Chapter Twenty-Three #2
Pulling my sweater off, I walk to my luggage and open the case.
Then I yank out that ‘special dress’ I bought just for Colt.
The little black, one-shoulder, shorter-than-should-be-legal, sparkly dress.
If Jessi wants my man, then I’m going to fight damn hard to keep him.
I slip off my Converse and jeans, shimmying the dress on.
It hugs me in all the right places and shows off my legs.
I walk into the ensuite to do something with my hair and face, and when I’m done, I step back, admiring the final look.
I’m smoking hot.
Colt’s going to flip when he sees me.
A new sense of determination washes over me.
My fight instinct has kicked in well and truly, and thirty minutes later, I’m strutting my stuff in the lobby.
The click-clack of my killer heels on the marble floor echoes sharply throughout the giant space.
I ask the concierge for a cab, and luckily, there is one waiting outside, so I slide in.
When my cell rings a few times while I’m on my way, I don’t check to see who it is.
I have one goal in mind.
Reminding Colter Slade that I won’t be easily ignored.
The paparazzi are lined up when I arrive at the club, waiting to get their shots of 12GAUGE-Slayed, who is more than likely already inside. I walk past them, and they don’t recognize me out of my regular jeans and Converse.
Mental note—bonus right there!
I walk straight up to the bouncer, who lets me in with a wink.
That’s the confidence booster I need.
I strut into the club and over to the VIP section, where I know they’ll be seated.
Again, I’m let in with a wink and an, “Oh yeah, kitty cat,” from the security at the door. I smile and walk straight in.
Not looking at anyone in particular, I feel all eyes are on me, and for once in my life, that makes me happy. I strut over to the bar and order a vodka on the rocks.
When I feel a hand on my back, I know it’s not Colt. I turn to Jared, who’s looking me up and down. “Holy shit, Dee, you look smoking.”
I smile, but my attention drifts across the room, drawn to where Jessi is deep in conversation with Colt. He hasn’t even noticed me yet. A flicker of disappointment tightens my chest, and I scoff under my breath. Jared follows my gaze, his expression shifting as he picks up on my reaction.
“Oh yeah, she’s been all over him since the concert finished,” he states, his hand still resting on my lower back.
My crazy anger is back when I see her laugh, and Colt smiles at her.
The moment the bartender hands me my drink, I take a measured sip, resisting the urge to down it in one go. With a huff, I turn and grab Jared’s hand, pulling him onto the dance floor. He doesn’t resist—his gaze drops to my cleavage, dark with desire.
A lump forms in my throat. I try to swallow, but it stays lodged there, thick and unmoving. I hate the way Jared ogles me, but if it gets under Colt’s skin, then it’s damn well worth it. Positioning myself just right, I keep Colt in my line of sight while feigning interest in Jared.
I know it’s childish.
I know it’s stupid.
But common sense left me hours ago.
“You wanna dance or stand here looking stupid?” Jared asks, leaning into me.
Inwardly, I cringe as, finally, Colt’s eyes catch mine.
He looks me up and down, and he shakes his head slightly.
I start laughing and pretending that Jared has said something incredibly funny.
He looks at me like I might be possessed, but I don’t care because the look on Colt’s face right now is exactly what I’m after.
Jared takes my free hand and pulls me closer, spilling my drink. “I always wanted to know what it felt like,” Jared says, making me look at him with a raised eyebrow.
“What?”
“Your body against mine.” Jared pulls me flush against him.
Colt’s gaze is locked onto me, intense and unwavering, while Jessi chatters beside him, oblivious. I take a slow sip of my vodka, letting the burn ground me as I sway against Jared to the truly terrible music.
The rational part of me knows this is reckless—leading Jared on is wrong, ridiculous, and more than a little messed up. But logic? Restraint? They left the building with my sanity.
My brain-to-body filter is officially out of commission.
Before I even realize it, I’m practically being dry-humped by Jared, my body moving on autopilot. Across the room, Colt’s glare sharpens, his brows furrowed in a storm of frustration. Even from here, I see the rise and fall of his chest, the telltale signs of a man barely holding it together.
Jessi says something, and for the first time, Colt’s gaze breaks from mine.
In that instant, a sharp pang of regret pierces through me.
Have I pushed him too far? My breath catches, my heart stutters, and I freeze in place, helpless, as I watch him take Jessi’s hand and lead her onto the dance floor.
He turns to face me, positioning Jessi with her back to me. My scowl deepens as his eyes lock onto mine, but it’s nothing compared to the way his cocky smirk sends my blood boiling. I grip my glass tighter, the urge to slam it into her back flashing through my mind.
Maybe if I push hard enough, it’ll slice through and pierce that frozen black heart of hers. I shake off the violent thought, inhaling deeply as I force myself to watch. Jessi moves against him, pressing her body into his, but Colt’s focus never wavers. It stays on me, just as mine stays on him.
A slow burn of anger simmers beneath my skin as Jessi drapes her hands all over him like she has every right to. My pulse spikes. My grip tightens around my glass. Then, as if to pour fuel on the fire, Colt smirks.
The bastard is enjoying this.
He wants to see me unravel.
Oh, I’ll show you, you arrogant prick!
I lace my fingers through Jared’s and let him pull me close, his free hand sliding down my side before landing firmly on my ass.
My breath hitches, my body tenses. Okay, maybe that’s a bit much.
But when I flick my gaze back to Colt, the fury on his face is unmistakable—he’s about one second away from snapping.
Challenge accepted.
With a sharp tug, Colt yanks Jessi against him, grinding into her like he’s trying to prove a point.
She loops her arms around his neck, moving sensually with him, oblivious to the silent war waging between us.
My stomach turns, bile creeping up my throat.
I take a long sip of my drink, forcing it down, but the bitter taste lingers.
This game we’re playing? It’s dangerous.
And I have no idea who’s going to break first.
Jared leans in, whispering, “I wanna fuck you against the bar.”
I burst out laughing.
That’s the single most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard him say.
Taking my hand from his, I rest it on his chest, gently pushing him away, but he grabs hold of my wrist and pulls me back so close I feel his erection on my hip. Ew! I curl my lip in disgust as I glance at Colt, whose eyes are focused on Jared’s hand around my wrist.
I realize how that must look to Colt and try to pull away.
This is getting out of hand.
It’s evident that Jared will push this farther than it was ever intended to go.
This time, when I steal a glance at Colt, it’s just in time to see Jessi’s hand curl around the back of his head before she yanks him down and crashes her lips against his.
My heart constricts.
I stop breathing.
I don’t even register the glass slipping from my hand until it crashes to the floor, shattering around me. The sound barely reaches my ears as I sway on the spot, unsteady, the world tilting beneath me.
He’s kissing her?
He is kissing her!
I see them break apart, but that’s it!
I have to get out of here.
“I’m not finished dancing with you,” Jared yells, trying to stop me.
I spin to face him, my glare sharp enough to cut. “Let. Me. The fuck. Go,” I say to him, slow and succinct, while tears run down my face. He raises his brow and lets my arm go. I look over to Colt, who’s pulled away from Jessi, our eyes meeting briefly before I turn and run.
“Tease,” Jared yells before I exit the VIP room.
I shove my way through the crowd, my body practically vibrating with heat. Fury and self-loathing churn inside me, an inferno raging so wildly it feels like I might combust. My heart pounds, my skin burns, and no amount of fresh air will put out this fire.
Bursting through the club doors, I exhale sharply, relieved to see the paparazzi have vanished. Thank God. But the cool night air does nothing to soothe me.
How dare he kiss her in front of me?
That was one step too far.
My breaths come hard and fast as I scan for a cab—nothing. Frustration coils tighter in my chest, so I walk. No, storm. My heels strike the pavement with sharp, angry clicks, each step a warning to anyone within earshot.
I’m angry—so damn angry.
I’m confused—so damn confused.
But most of all, I am hurt.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I bow my head, seeking whatever comfort I can find. The weight of my own choices presses down on me, twisting my stomach with regret.
Behind me, quick footsteps echo against the pavement.
I don’t turn.
I don’t care.
It’s probably Jared, coming to collect on the mess I started. And that thought makes me hate myself just a little more.
“Dee! Dee, wait.”
Colt! That’s Colt’s voice.
Goddammit! I wince at the sound but keep walking.
He runs up to my side, and I side-eye him through tear-soaked eyes.
“Baby, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t know what I was thinking. You look amazing tonight, and that fucker, Jared, had his hands all over you. I couldn’t take it. I just couldn’t take it,” he says breathlessly.
Instead of stopping, I pick up the pace, needing to be away from him.
“Dee, will you stop and talk to me?” he pleads.
I don’t trust myself, so I focus on the pavement, forcing myself to take each step.
“Stop walking away from me!”