Total pages in book: 209
Estimated words: 198235 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 991(@200wpm)___ 793(@250wpm)___ 661(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 198235 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 991(@200wpm)___ 793(@250wpm)___ 661(@300wpm)
‘Love the dress!’ Tom croons, stroking my midriff.
I look down at the tight, black jersey dress that I borrowed from Kate. ‘Thanks,’ I take the glass being handed over Kate’s shoulder. ‘You okay?’ I ask Victoria.
She fluffs her hair and sweeps it over her shoulder. ‘Amazing.’
Oh? Not good or great, but amazing? ‘That good?’ I ask, wishing she could transfer some of that amazing over to me.
‘Yes, that good.’ She giggles.
‘She’s in love again.’ Tom nudges Victoria in the side, spiking a heavy scowl from the pretty blonde.
‘I’m not, and that’s rich, coming from the man-whore here!’
Tom looks genuinely shocked, and for the first time in days, I laugh. It feels good. Kate joins us, and with a lack of free tables, we just stand near the bar, chatting. He’s still floating around in my mind, of course, but my cunning best friend is doing a great job of distracting me for a while.
That is until I look up and see him.
My heart doesn’t speed up… it stops. I’ve not seen him since Monday, and if it’s even possible, he looks more devastating than ever. I know immediately that Jay has called him, and I also know I’m probably going to be dragged from the bar, but that doesn’t stop my eyes from slowly dragging up his jean clad legs, onto his white shirt, up his neck and finally onto his face—the one that sends my eyes delirious with pleasure, even when I’m mad with him. He doesn’t look mad and he doesn’t look like he’s been drinking. He looks fresh, healthy and as spectacular as ever. And every other woman in the bar thinks so, too. They have noticed this breath-taking male, who’s striding across the bar, some even following him. His sparkling greens land on me briefly and my heart resumes beating… very very fast. His face is expressionless as he stares at me for a few seconds before he slowly pulling his gaze away without so much as an acknowledgment to my presence. Then he continues to the bar with a flurry of women in tow.
I’m crushed, my racing mind thinking up all sorts of explanations for his quiet absence over the last four days—where he’s been, what he’s been doing. He’s clearly not mourning his loss. He looks arrogant, confident and sickeningly handsome—just like he did on the day I met him. They are all familiar traits to me, but right now, they are all enhanced. He knows the effect he’s having on me and all of the other women dribbling at his heels.
Uncertainty and raging jealously are strangling me, and I’m still staring at him, watching as he assaults the women surrounding him with that fucking face, making them disintegrate on the spot.
Oh yes, there he is, my husband, looking like he’s just landed from planet fucking perfect. My eyes narrow as I watch a black haired, red dress woman stroke his arm, and I literally hold myself back from physically removing her. But I left him, although he’s clearly not that bothered. I laugh to myself. He needs me? It certainly doesn’t look like it.
I’m aware of the silence in our group, so I drag my eyes away from my bastard of a husband and see Kate watching me closely, Tom dribbling along with the other hussies and Victoria scuffing her ridiculous heels on the bar floor in an awkward silence. I shake my head on a little laugh and take a massive swig of the wine I’ve been carefully sipping, flicking my eyes briefly over in his direction. He knows I’m watching. If he wants to play games, then I’m willing, and I don’t plan of settling for anything less than gold.
‘Let’s dance.’ I down the rest of my wine and slam the glass on the bar before pushing my way through the small crowds until I find myself on the dance floor. When I turn around, I find my three loyal friends have all joined me.
Kate looks nervous. I make a snatch for her wine, but she swipes it away. ‘Don’t be stupid, Ava.’ she warns seriously. ‘I know you’re still pregnant.’
I’m trying to piece together something to strike back with, but nothing is coming to me, so in an act of complete stupidity, I turn and stomp over to the bar. I know he’s watching me, and I know Kate is, too, but it doesn’t stop me from ordering and then downing a fresh glass in one foul swoop before returning to the floor.
‘What are you trying to prove?’ Kate yells at me. ‘Because if it’s that you’re a fucking twat, then you’re succeeding.’ Her words would probably hit a nerve if the alcohol wasn’t getting in the way. I don’t care.
I’m distracted from my pissed off friend by Tom’s squeal, his eyes lighting up when the DJ launches Rob D Clubbed to death. He pounces on me. ‘Get me a whistle, shove me in some hot pants and put me on that podium! Ibiza!’