I make a sound of amusement. “I respect everyone else here.”
“Pretty sure you weren’t always such a bitch.”
“Like you said, we are different than who we used to be. You have no idea who I am now either. And I’m pretty sure you weren’t always such an asshole,” I fire back, then turn to leave, but he grips my upper arm in a firm hold.
“All you better do here tonight is dance and look pretty. You go near a man, I will end him, do you understand me?”
So he can flaunt his women around, but he expects me to stay away from men? Not that I’m on the prowl or anything. I’m legitimately here to dance and have a good time with my friends, but who does he think he is to decide that for me?
“Like I said, you don’t own me. If I want to hook up with a guy, I will. But don’t worry, I’m not as easy as the women you’re used to.”
Green eyes turn murky, and he stares at me like he wants to kill me. “Well, you set the standard, didn’t you? Apparently I just have shit taste in women.”
That line hits like a blow, and I can’t hide the wince that appears on my face.
“I hate you,” I say quietly. He flinches, but I don’t give a shit. “I don’t want to talk about anything to do with us. Ever. And you need to stop bringing it up.”
“The past is all there is between us,” he replies, looking away from me. “Every time I see you, all I see is what was, so how can you ask me to do that?”
“There is nothing there for us in the past!” I yell, turning away from him. “Nothing.”
“There’s nothing for us in the future too,” he adds simply.
I need to leave, to get away from him right now.
Because I am going to lose it.
My nose is tingling, a sure indication that I am going to cry. And I can’t let him see me break.
He makes me weak, and I hate it.
“Why don’t you just leave me alone? Flaunt whoever you want in front of me—I don’t give a shit. All I want is to try to have a good night without all the shit you bring to my life.”
“You probably should have thought about that before you broke my fuckin’ heart,” he snarls. “Fuckin’ hell, Bailey. It still hurts to see you. I can’t fuckin’ see you, don’t you get it? Yet at the same time, I can’t stay away. Knowing you’re here, it brings me here. It’s like I’m a sadist or something, asking for the pain of our fucked-up memories. I can’t help it.”
It hurts me too, and I know it’s my fault for not being honest with him about it. If I’m being honest with myself, half of me wants to protect him from what happened.
Okay, maybe more than half.
The rest of me doesn’t think he deserves to know the truth. Why should I bare my soul to him? He didn’t bother to talk to me, to even hear what I had to say after that night. He just cut me out and moved on. How am I supposed to tell him what happened? How is he going to look at me after? If I say it out loud, it becomes real.
I don’t want it to be real.
I pull my arm out of his hold and walk to the bathroom, needing to gather myself. When the girls come after me, I put a smile on my face and pretend everything will be all right.
It has to be.
* * *
When midnight hits, like Cinderella, I figure it’s time to go home, since I have to be up at eight. After Adam disappeared into the VIP room, this time with two women, I didn’t see him again. He made a big show of it, making sure I saw, which made my blood boil. I wanted to go home then and there, but I stuck it out, not wanting him to win, and I tried to enjoy my night with the girls, to forget he was even here, even though all I could do was replay his words over and over in my head and picture what exactly he was doing to the two women in there with him. He’s definitely right about one thing—he’s changed, and I need to realize that so I can let everything in our past go. He’s not