Page 39 of The CEO I Hate
I grimaced. “Not boy troubles. Men troubles…Man troubles? Anyway, men suck!”
Craig nodded along in full understanding and agreement. “Damn right they do, honey. Why do you think I get up there and shake my ass every night to breakup ballads?” He winked at me, the black makeup painted around his eyes glittering like the night sky.
“Have you seen Sophie?” I asked. I needed a dose of best-friend moral support stat.
“She was last seen in the back dealing with a costume crisis. Do you want some company until we open?”
“Nah,” I sighed. I knew the performers were always busy right before opening, running through their set list, making sure all the props were in place.
“Okay, well, save me a drink for after my performance,” Craig said. “I want to hear all about,” he gestured in a vague circular motion, “whatever this is.”
“I’ll do my best.” The way I was feeling, I might be several drinks in by the time Craig wrapped up. I headed straight for the bar where Ollie, a woman with rainbow-dyed hair wearing a deep crimson corset, was cutting up limes.
She took one look at me and wrinkled her nose. “You look rough.”
“I feel rough,” I muttered, climbing onto a stool. If rough was what you felt like after a guy reached straight into your chest to strangle your heart a bit.
“Well, in that case, what can I get you?”
“A vodka cran, please.”
She nodded, making the drink and sliding it across the counter. I sipped at it, twisting on my black leather stool to take in the stage. A group of performers was running through a high-energy can-can-type dance. They were so good and so pretty, and if I could get my leg that high, I’d use it to kick Liam’s annoyingly perfect face to the moon. That image entertained me for a few minutes during which I downed my drink.
I frowned at the empty glass, rattling the ice cubes around. I glanced over at Ollie, placing my glass down. “Another when you have a sec?”
“Sure.”
My phone buzzed with a text as I waited for my drink, but I didn’t even bother to look at it. Instead, I waited for the sweet,sweetliquor that would help me forget all my troubles.
At least until I woke up with a pounding headache tomorrow morning. But that was a tomorrow me problem. Tonight’s me wanted to forget Liam Lockhart even existed. Because who the hell was he to kiss me and then immediately ditch me? Again!
Images of that New Year’s Eve party two years ago came flooding back in horribly detailed flashes. I blinked hard, trying to banish the memories, but judging by the mildly concerned way Craig was watching me from across the room, I probably just looked like I was having a stroke. I picked up the drink Ollie put near me and took a swig. How many times was I going to let Liam do this to me?
No more!the reasonable part of my brain shouted.
But the unreasonable part—the silly part, the one prone to wishful thinking—kept reminding the rest of me about the way his lips moved against mine this afternoon. The heat of his breath as his tongue pressed for entrance. The way he’d cradled my face in his hands. Iwanted that again. I wantedhimin all his grumpy, obnoxious, annoying glory! I wanted a man who didn’t want me.
Well,somepart of him certainly wanted me. That much was clear after today. He just wouldn’tlethimself want me. And that was even more frustrating than a flat-out rejection!
The stool beside me scuffed against the floor as Sophie appeared. She was wearing a costume I’d never seen before. I reached out and touched the silky, emerald-green shorts that hugged her thighs.
“Craig said you were looking quite murderous when you walked in.”
“I’ve simmered now. I’m only slightly murderous,” I quipped.
“‘Boy troubles,’ he said.” Sophie arched her brow. “And unless one of your exes popped out of the woodwork, there’s only one boy I know who gives you troubles.”
I ran my thumb across the condensation on my glass, huffed, then turned to her. “Liam kissed me. Again! At work, of all places.”
“What?” she said, half shocked, half amused. “When? How?”
“Today?”
“How?”
“What do you meanhow?” I reached out and took her by the face, reenacting the whole situation. “Like this. He just grabbed my face in his hands and puckered up.”
“Yas, girl!” Craig called from across the room. “Rebound! You don’t need him.”
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