Girl Crush(49)

I now repulsed men. I couldn’t seal the deal with women. And I felt like a fool. There wasn’t enough alcohol in the world to drown out this night.

He said something in my ear, but I’d missed it. My brain had gone into fight or flight mode and screamed at me to take off. I didn’t want to. No, I couldn’t stand here and wait to hear whatever pitiful sentiments fell from his mouth. I needed to be as far away from this man as I could get to stop the barrage of humiliation, but he wouldn’t let go of my elbow.

“I need to go.” I turned to meet his eyes, and all I saw was confusion.

“Giselle? Talk to me.” He bent his knees slightly, putting himself at eye-level with me, and his hand cupped my jaw while his thumb stroked my cheekbone.

My brain was on the verge of a total meltdown, and I could not be in Collier’s presence when it happened. “No. I just—I just need to…go. I have to find Ronnie.”

“If you want to go home, I’ll take you. Ronnie can stay and hang out.”

He might have seen the terror in my eyes, or maybe he just saw fear, but he knew something was wrong, and I fought against the tears that burned, threatening to make a spectacle of me. I needed an escape route quickly, preferably one that wouldn’t ask questions. I jerked my arm away and practically ran across the dance floor, bumping into people and pissing them off as I made my way through the crowd, trying to get back to our table

Collier stopped me at the edge of the dance floor. “Giselle, what the fuck? You can’t just kiss me and take off like a bat out of hell. What’s going on?” The backs of his fingers met my cheek, and he tried to calm me with his touch.

This was pointless. Nothing would come of my explanation, and I wasn’t sober enough to offer him a coherent one, even if I’d wanted to. I just shook my head and pulled away, leaving him alone on the outside edge of the group of people.

When I reached my crew, Ronnie knew something was amiss, but after seeing my eyes brimming with tears, she didn’t ask questions. I grabbed my purse, and she nodded her understanding.

Less than a minute later, a panicked Ronnie escorted me out, hand in hand. She’d asked Roxie to take Trish home and tell her where she’d gone. My friend didn’t wait for her lover’s approval, she just met my unspoken need.

The moment we stepped out the door and onto the sidewalk, we ran straight into Collier. He stood firm with his arms across his chest, a look akin to anger marking his features. I appreciated his need for an explanation, but I needed my best friend, not my…hell, I didn’t know what he was to me anymore other than a source of humiliation. I couldn’t meet his eyes and pulled on Ronnie’s hand to force her toward the parking lot.

But Ronnie stopped, refusing to budge. She wanted information and believed Collier had the answer. “What happened, West? She looks scared shitless. What the hell did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything, Veronica.” His tone was curt, but even when he answered her, I felt his stare drilling into the top of my head.

My cheeks puffed out with air, my brows raised, and my eyes bugged—all in V’s direction. If she didn’t get me out of here in the next two seconds, I would explode. The mess would be horrendous, and her designer boots would be ruined, along with her makeup.

I felt like a child. I had created this mess, and now I needed my best friend to help me escape instead of staying to clean it up. But I just wasn’t in the right headspace to hear Collier tell me he wasn’t interested. I doubted I ever would be, but certainly not after a bottle of wine and two vodka tonics. If she didn’t help make my getaway happen and get me out of Collier’s path, I would start walking. The longer this showdown went on, the worse my anxiety got.

I wished I could take him home. Sit down on my couch with cartons of Chinese food and red wine and just tell him the truth. If I thought there was any possibility that wouldn’t go horribly wrong—I didn’t even need great odds—I’d do it in a heartbeat. But I’d sealed my fate with Collier before I ever knew I had one. And his rejection had just proven that.

“Giselle, we need to talk. Sooner rather than later. Yeah?”

I nodded as though I agreed with him, which couldn’t be further from the truth. Add that to my list of tall tales. It was a good thing my nose didn’t grow as long as that list was getting.

He nodded and stepped aside.

The second we moved past him, the tears fell.

My best friend knew. I didn’t have to tell her. She quickly put her arm around my shoulders and ushered me in the direction of her car. Once we were in the vehicle, she turned in the seat to face me, and with a smartass grimace on her lips, she proclaimed, “You have to tell him.”

“Tell him what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Giselle. I may not have witnessed what happened on the dance floor, but we’re close enough that I know your mind is starting to fuck with you. You’ve got feelings for him that you don’t have a clue what to do with. Ever since your douchebag husband left, you’ve floated from one male mistake to another without a care in the world. Then this shit about switching teams and the trail of women who have crossed your path happened. In the process, you found a friend in the least likely person, and now—you’ve fallen for him.”

“Pfft. You’re so off base.” And the nose would have grown a little longer.