Unwrapping the Best Man

My punishment is this.

To miss her like crazy. To miss talking to her, to miss her presence in the club, her teasing smiles, her sultry looks, all humour and light and so much fun.

I. Miss. Her.

Four months and it feels like a year.

I thought when Eliza and I split my life was over. I was humiliated, broken, and filled with an anger so acute it took years to learn to control it, to trust anyone again.

It felt nothing like this. With Cait. The only anger I feel is at myself for ruining her, for ruining what we had. And I ache inside. I’m hollow, empty; nothing can fill the void she’s left.

After Eliza, I filled my life with work and sex. I burned her out of my system. The very idea of doing the same after one night with Cait...

Bates places a glass in front of me just when I need it most. ‘Cheers.’

He nods, goes to leave and then turns back. ‘You want the bottle?’

‘Do I look that bad?’

He gives me a lopsided grin. ‘Hate to say it, boss, but you look like shit.’

I rake my hands through my hair and lean back in my stool. ‘Glad you can tell me how it is, Bates.’

‘You did ask.’

I blow out a breath and lean forward to take up the drink. ‘True.’

I throw back a gulp, appreciating the burn.

‘You want to talk about it?’

I almost laugh but I know Bates means it. My staff are selected to care about the club’s members, to be an ear if that’s what they need, or serve up their order and discreetly walk away. And I lead by example.

It’s how I treat everyone under this roof, my staff and my clientele. Bates is only offering me the same, but I can hardly make sense of this hold Cait continues to have over me, let alone put words to it.

Or I can, but I don’t want to, because that means admitting the one thing I swore I would never do again. Fall in love.

I shake my head at him. ‘Nah, it’s nothing that won’t go away eventually.’

Hell, who am I trying to convince?

Him or me?

‘No worries.’ He leaves the bottle and gets back to work while my head goes back to Cait.

I remember the last time I saw her, stretched out on the four-poster bed, the deep red sheets tangled in her limbs, the moonlight streaking across her bare breasts, the soft smile on her sleeping face, her hair a tangled mass from my hands... My body tightens in an instant, the whip of heat firing through my limbs.

She’s not even here and I’m hot for her.

I throw back another gulp, scan the bar and the couples—threesomes and all-out orgies taking place—and nothing appeals. No one has. Not since her.

Fuck. I throw back another gulp. Four months and not a single lay. And I’ve tried. I’ve tried everything, but nothing works.

My fear was that I would ruin her; I warned her, made that clear. What I didn’t expect was to be ruined in return.

Liar. You pushed your club rules in her face from day one because you knew—you knew she was different: a tiny bundle of carefree fun which you envied on some level and adored on every other.

I acknowledge the truth of it by draining my glass and pouring another.