Dirty Rumor: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance(43)

“Fuck that,” I say to my reflection. “Fuck that.” I can move on. I have no other choice. If Carolyn is gone, I’m going to have to fill the void with something.

And I’m going to have to start right now.





Chapter 39

Carolyn





Jess takes me to the Bystander, a dive bar she used to frequent back in her college days. The instant we walk in, I know why she chose the place.

Nobody from our crowd would ever go here.

The booths are covered in ratty upholstery and the clientele seems to run the gamut from collegiate hipsters to a few rougher types in their thirties. I’m way overdressed.

I don’t care at all.

The music is so loud it hurts my ears, but I throw my arms above my head and give a whoop that makes Jessica laugh.

“We don’t have to stay if you don’t like it,” she shouts over the music.

“Bar!” I say, pointing emphatically toward the bar. She follows me as I shove through the crowd and right up to the pitted bar top, leaning my elbows against it, making room to either side. There are two bartenders working tonight. It’s a Tuesday, but the place is jam-packed. I shout an order at the bartender for two Long Island iced teas and then grin back at Carolyn, feeling the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

She frowns.

“This place is insane,” I shout over the music.

“What’s wrong?” She has to shout back, but the bartender taps my arm. The drinks are ready. I shove a twenty across the bar at him, take the drinks, and make my way back into the crowd.

We find a tiny table that’s just large enough for two people to stand at and sip the drinks, Jess swaying a little to the music.

She looks across the table at me and narrows her eyes, and I give her a big, cheesy smile that does absolutely nothing to mask the fact that my heart is tattered in pieces, splattered all over my apartment.

“What’s wrong?” she says again.

I can tell her. I know I can tell her. I just don’t want to start now, here in this crowded dive bar. I was the first to find out about Alec and her new life in Saintland. She can be the first to find out that, yet again, I’ve been dumped, only this time it really is all my fault.

“Ace broke up with me.” It seems to go silent in the bar as I shout the words at top volume, and I feel my face go red, but then the sound comes crashing in again and I realize that nobody is looking at me.

Only Jess, who’s biting her lip with a frown that nearly undoes me.

I choke on the lump in my throat and look down at the surface of the table, which is sticky with spilled drinks and littered with peanut husks. Then Jess’s arm is around my shoulder, pulling me in for a hug. She doesn’t give a shit that we’re in public. She doesn’t give a shit that she’s the Queen of Saintland. She’s still a good friend.

I gulp back a sob, but I can’t force out any more words. There’s no way I can explain to her what happened—not here.

I just want to have a good time.

I just want….

“Let’s dance,” Jess says into my ear, rubbing her hand up and down my arm. “Come on.”

She releases me and goes back around the table to gulp down a good half of her drink, then winks at me. I can’t help but smile back and follow suit, and we abandon the half-empty drinks and head for the dance floor.

They had more alcohol than I thought because I already feel tipsy, and suddenly the music seems warm and fun, like everything’s going to be okay.

In the crowd I catch a glimpse of a man with blond hair and a cut jaw, wearing a red shirt. My stomach turns over and plummets straight to the floor. I spin around, running into Jess in my panic to get out.

“Oh, my God!”

“What—” She peers over my shoulder. “What are you doing? Who did you see?”

“Ace!” I cry, whipping my head back around.

“Where?” Jess’s forehead wrinkles while she searches the people on the dance floor for his face. “I don’t see him, Care.”

The guy in the red shirt reappears, and I see in a jarring instant that it’s not him. It doesn’t look like him at all.

I shake my head a little, covering my eyes with my hand.

“Maybe I should just go home.”

“No,” Jess says firmly, hooking her arm through mine. “We’re out. I’m leaving for Saintland in a few days, and I want to have a good time with my best friend.”

She hauls me out onto the dance floor again, and when I stand there, stock-still, she takes my hands in hers and tugs them until I’m swaying with the music.

My heart is a gaping wound in my chest, and every breath is agony, but it’s not long before I lose myself in the beat, following Jess’s lead.

“More drinks!” she cries after a few minutes and disappears to the bar, leaving me in the swirling mass of bodies on the dance floor.

I don’t care.

What’s to care about?

The most important thing in my life is over, so I might as well dance.

I throw myself into it, happily accepting the shot she brings and throwing it back. She’s gone for another moment, putting the shot glasses somewhere, I assume, and then we’re drunk and dancing.

The men start to circle not long after, and I find myself with my hands on their shoulders, my hands sliding down abs that don’t hold a candle to Ace’s. The hours melt away in a blur of music and dancing and drinks presented to me by handsome stranger after handsome stranger. At one point I find myself with my mouth pressed against another man’s and laughing, laughing while I do it.