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I shake my head, my hair falling around my face, hopefully shielding the shine to my eyes. “Whatever his game is, it’s not about me. It’s all about him because that’s all he cares about.”

“Kate, just talk to him.”

I drop my head and then look back at Luna. “For what purpose? So he can tell me how good the redhead was? Because that’s all he does—sleep around and have parties.”

And get under my skin.

And live rent-free in my head.

And make me feel vulnerable.

“Let me and Zach take you home.”

I shake my head and grab my purse from the side. “No. I just need to be alone. I’ve already said too much.”

“But you can always talk to me. You know I would never say a thing to anyone.”

I take a step back toward her and lean down, kissing her on the cheek. “I know, and I love you for that. But some people just can’t be in the same room.”

“It’s not great for our group.”

I draw in a deep breath. She’s right. “I know. I need to work on that. With the wedding coming up and us being together for several days, we need to at least be civilized. Right now, though, I just need space to get my shit together.”

She nods and throws me a soft Felicity-like smile. “It’s okay to admit you have feelings for him.”

Oh, I have feelings, alright. That I’d like to kick ass into next week.

I tuck my hair behind my ears and smile back at her. “I’m just disappointed in the way he behaved that night and then again tonight. He hauled us down here for his own needs and didn’t consider anyone else’s.” My voice shakes as I fight to keep my tone even.

“Let us take you home.”

“Stay. Zach is here to celebrate with the boys, and I’m a spare part anyway,” I Iaugh.

Luna opens her mouth, no doubt to protest, but I get there first. “Stay. I’ll grab an Uber.”

Turning on my high heels, I blow her a kiss, a well-practiced faux grin, and high tail it out of there.

That’s the final time Jensen fucking Jones humiliates me.

CHAPTER SIX

JENSEN

“Iswear on all that is holy, if you puke one more time on my bathroom floor, I’ll banish you from this apartment forever.”

“Let me die, then,” I reply, rolling over onto my side. I have no idea where I am, but I’m pretty sure that’s Felicity’s voice. You can’t miss the British accent.

“Trust me. With the way you behaved last night, I’m tempted. But Jon likes you, so apparently, I have to keep you alive.”

I groan in pain. “Where am I?”

“On my bathroom floor. Where you’ve been the entire night.”

I try to sit up but crack my forehead on the underside of the toilet. “Fuck!”

“I’ll reserve my sympathy if that’s alright.”

Prying an eye open, a very pissed off British woman slowly comes into view. In her sleepwear and bunny slippers, she stands there with her hands propped on her hips.