Wilted (11 page)

“Whatever you say.” Tony chuckles in the phone. “Listen, I’ll catch you tomorrow, all right? Carlee and I are going to hang out for a bit, I think.” Which basically means he’s planning on fucking her for the rest of the day.

“Later,” I reply and hang up the phone.

I’m so numb, I don’t know how to feel right now. I know we’re over, but why did she have to go and move so damn far away from me? I gave up Los Angeles for her, or did she forget that? Christ! I can’t believe she could fall for a guy like him. He’s fucked as many women as I have and I’m sure he’s not settling on just her.

How can she be so fucking stupid?

Memories of holding her, of making sweet, beautiful love to her wash over me like a warm summer rain. Each thought of our time together cuts deeper into my aching soul.
I’ve lost her. I never mattered to her.
An unexpected rush of anger surges through me like a violent storm ripping through the plains. Spotting the picture of her smiling face beside me makes me lose all self-control. I send it crashing to the floor along with my heart that she’s broken.
How could you, Kylie? How?

Before I can stop myself, I break every last piece of glass in my office. Staggering back to rest against the wall, I come out of the blinding madness. When I gaze upon the damage around me, I can’t help but laugh. It is so fitting. Broken. Everything about my life is now officially broken. My family, my future, and now, my heart. I’m destined to be alone, to be unloved. I’m poison to anyone who comes close to me. She is the only person I ever truly let in, the only girl I’ve trusted with my heart. And now, look at what has happened.

What I did to her is unforgivable. I know that now. All of this is my fault. I can’t even look into a mirror anymore because I don’t want to see the hopeless fool staring back at me. I’m lost, and without her, I’m nothing. Collapsing back into my chair, I feel the unfamiliar wetness of my tears as they journey down my cheeks and land on my trembling lips. Defeated, I bury my face in my hands and, with no one around, give into the pain.

“Good fucking grief, Nik! Snap out of it, man! We’re in titty heaven for God’s sake, and you’re moping? Jesus! I brought you here to get your dick some action by some of the best professionals in the business, not for you to sulk,” Tony shouts over the loud music.

He’s right. As I look around at the half dressed women, I can’t help but miss the feel of a wet pussy on my dick. These women are both fucking hot and an easy lay. The thing is, none of them are Kylie.

“Here, sweetheart, show my boy here the back room, if you will.” Tony shoves a handful of bills into a hot blonde’s bra.

She takes my hand, and I allow her to lead me to the back of the noisy strip club. Moans and loud erotic screams fill the stale air as we make our way down the long, narrow hall. I follow her into an empty room and watch as she locks the door behind her. Her forceful hands shove me down onto the red velvet bench behind me. “Gorilla” by Bruno Mars plays through the speakers hidden around the room. I’ve been to tons of these clubs before, but I’m just not into this tonight.

Before I can stand to leave, she straddles me, grinding her tight ass hard against my dick. It’s been so damn long. Longer than I’ve ever gone before without fucking someone. Her moaning drives me insane. It reminds me of the way Kylie loved to give me lap dances. The room we’re in is so dark, I find myself doing the unthinkable. My grip on her waist tightens and I pretend I’m holding Kylie and go with the flow, matching her movements as she rocks against me. With a seductive move forward, she drops to her knees in front of me, yanking my belt loose with her hand. When her hand grasps my rock hard cock, I throw my head back to enjoy the pleasure. I think about all the times my beautiful girl has gone down on me and how fucking talented her mouth is. Just as I brush back the girl’s hair, I make the mistake of looking down. The moment I see blonde hair, I jump off the bench. Guilt rushes over me, causing my dick to fall completely limp.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do this.” Pushing her away, I quickly fasten my pants. Even in the dark room, I catch her brazen smile as I make my way to the door.
I don’t give a fuck what she thinks.
I push past the people crowding the hall as I head towards the back exit.

The warm night air hits me like a painful slap in the face.
What am I doing?
I need to turn right around and head back inside. I need to fuck Kylie’s memory out of my head. I need to, but I don’t. I can’t. Instead, I walk to where my car is and quickly get in. Her familiar perfume fills my nose, drawing my attention to the tiny bottle in my cup holder. Part of me wants to roll the damn window down and toss it across the parking lot, but the other part of me can’t bear the thought of losing any reminder of her. No matter how painful it is. I will allow her ghost to continue to haunt me. At least that way I can trick my mind into believing she’s still mine.

Just ahead, the bright, neon lights of a small, roadside bar catch my attention. Before I know it, I’m sitting inside and allowing the bartender to fill my glass.

“Here’s to Kylie Reynolds and my fucked up life!” I say, raising my hand and throwing back the amber liquid. Signaling the bartender for another round, I know it’s an impossible feat to drink her memory away, but I try.

KYLIE

I should love my life. Not only do I have my dream job, but I also live in a gorgeous two-bedroom condo in a posh area of Los Angeles. Everything at work is fantastic. Moving to LA is the best decision I’ve ever made. As I said, I should love my life, but I don’t. I hate every miserable second of it.

Some part of me thought if I put enough distance between me and my problems, things would be better. I left my shattered heart in Austin with plans of doing whatever it took to forget Nikolas Thorne. I’ve gone to clubs, flirted… even thrown myself at men. When it comes down to actually doing the deed, well… it never happens. So I’ve given up on men and have decided to focus on work. I’ve put in so much time in the office that they insisted I take a few days off.
Don’t they know I need to stay busy?
I don’t need time to myself. I can’t go home for a visit because I can’t risk bumping into him. I can’t just stay in because he’s all I think about as it is.

It’s true. I find myself stalking the entertainment news looking for any new updates on him. A supermodel here, an actress there. Nikolas Thorne gets around, it’s for damn sure.
How is it so easy for him? Why is it so hard for me?

I need Skylar so much right now. My best friend can calm me down and make sense of the crazy thoughts in my head. I guess you can say she gets my madness. When I talked to her before I moved, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her what had been going on with Nik and me. Talking about Nik would only bring back bad memories of Sebastian for her. There’s no way I want that, so I must keep it to myself. Surely, one day things will get easier for me.

My phone rings and provides a distraction to my thoughts. I begin the daunting task of digging it out of my huge purse. Most women will tell you that keys and phones always seem to find their way to a hiding point when you need them most.

“Hello?” I answer, not bothering to check the caller ID.

“Kylie?”

Evan’s voice surprises me. It’s been weeks since I’ve spoken to him.

“Oh, hi Evan. How are you?”

“Well, that depends on your answer to a question I have.”

“What question is that?”

“I fly in on Friday morning and have an event to attend that evening. I was hoping that maybe you’d consider coming with me?”

“For business?”

“No, this is for a friend’s anniversary.”

“So a date, then?” The word date makes me want to cringe.

“Yes, a date. Or we can just go as friends. I understand, whatever you choose.”

“I don’t know, Evan. I told you already I’m not interested in dating anyone.”

“Then we’ll go as friends. What do you say? Please? You’d be doing me a favor. If I go there alone, Sylvie will play matchmaker and it’ll be a nightmare.”

I hesitate to give him my answer. I don’t want to say yes. I don’t feel like being around a bunch of people. Anniversary parties are supposed to be happy. They’re meant for people who believe in them. I don’t anymore.

“Please, I’m not above begging. We’ll stop by, make an appearance, and then leave. I promise thirty minutes, tops.”

“All right, but just remember this is not a date.”

“Understood. Thanks, Kylie. I’ll pick you up Friday around seven. Just text
your address to me.”

“Sure, I’ll see you then.”

As I hang up my phone, I’m not exactly sure if accepting his invitation is a wise choice. Since I’ve been quite the hermit and workhorse, I haven’t made that many friends in LA. Evan’s really the only person I know out here. It comes down to two choices: go have a decent time with a friend or sit here and cry all weekend alone. I know if I sit here with my gallon of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream, I will be looking at more weight on my ass. That, I will most certainly
not
let happen.

At ten minutes to seven, my doorbell chimes the ridiculous melody that I fucking hate so much.
Note to self, disconnect the wires to that soon.
I grab up my new, strappy, silver Jimmy Choos that I’d bought yesterday. We won’t talk about how excited I’d been when I bought them. I seriously broke out into a happy dance at the cash register as I handed her my debit card. It’s so nice that I can now afford to splurge like that from time to time. And, with my shoe fetish, I have a feeling that time to time may be more frequent.

Hobbling on one foot, I manage to open the door for Evan. The minute I see him, I’m a bit taken back. Dressed in a dark grey Armani suit with a cream shirt, he looks downright hot, if I do say so myself. His sexy smile affects me differently this time and I’m not exactly sure why.
Can this be a sign of just how lonely I’ve become since Nik’s been out of my life?

Embarrassed that I’ve been staring too long, I smile and invite him in. Holding on to the door, I slide my other foot into its shoe, admiring them once more.

God, I love these.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the foyer mirror and freak out.

Oh fuck, maybe this dress is too short. Damn it!

Just as I glance up from smoothing down the hem of my red dress, I find him staring at me. The way he looks at me is much more intense than ever before. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I immediately regret wearing this. I should have known better.