Page 65 of Devious Love

“Sounds like he loves Valencia,” I say, though at this moment, I couldn’t care less about what my uncle is up to. “Why was Mia here?”

“She’s staying the night with her friends and needed to borrow a car. Monica said no, so I told her to stop in and get the keys to one of our loaners. I gave her a little cash too, but don’t tell Monica. She’s worried Mia is saving money to spend next summer in Italy.” Dad pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know why she always picks on the kid. I’ve tried to talk to her about it so many times, but she doesn’t want to listen to me.”

Anger simmers in my veins. Monica is a brat, always has been, so it doesn’t surprise me that she can’t deal with her daughter being better off without her.

“That sucks.” I take a step back, keeping my thoughts to myself. Voicing them won’t get me anywhere. “I better go. We’re going out tonight, and if I don’t get home soon, Matt will give me shit.”

“Looks like Monica and I will have the house to ourselves.” He grins at me. “Have fun.”

Nodding, I head to the exit, dreading the night ahead.

The EDM is loud,the beat reverberating through my body. The dance floor is packed, just like the bar. The whole place is pink. I’m the lone dark spot. I don’t have a single pink piece of clothing in my closet, but luckily, Ray is working tonight. He didn’t even blink when I walked in wearing a black hoodie with pink writing.

“Wanna grab a beer?” Miles has to shout to be heard, even though he’s sitting beside me.

He’s got a curvaceous brunette perched on his lap. Her friend, a blonde with a pink-streaked pixie cut, sits beside Matt, engrossed in conversation with him. The third girl came over thinking she’d get to know me better, but I made it clear right away that wasn’t going to happen. So, for the last thirty minutes, she’s had her nose buried in her phone. She’s pretty, and she has a nice ass, but between the Mia bullshit and trying to dodge Remi’s calls and texts, I can’t even look at other girls.

“Yeah. Stay here. I’ll grab one for you too,” I say.

He nods. “Thanks, man.”

I stand and push up the sleeves of my hoodie. “Anybody else want a drink?”

The girl on Miles’ lap shakes her head, and Matt and the blonde barely look at me.

With a shrug, I make my way to the bar, pushing through the throng of people. Aaron, a bartender and a guy I went to high school with, notices me and lifts his chin. While I wait, I turn, prop my hip against the bar, and scan the place.

The music vibrates through me, making it impossible not to nod along. Despite my initial refusal to come out tonight, I’m having a decent time—probably because Remi is out of town. I can relax knowing she won’t show up and ruin my night. I’vealready had to carry her drunk ass out of this place once this week. She was so wasted, I didn’t feel comfortable dropping her off at home alone, so after she spent an hour throwing up in the bathroom, I tucked her into my bed and then crashed on the floor.

“Sorry, not interested.”

The familiar voice makes me snap up straight. Without turning, I eavesdrop on the conversation, certain I’m wrong.

She can’t be here, right? Dad said she’s staying with friends. Besides, she’s eighteen. She’s not even allowed in here.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Just one drink.”

“She said no,” says another familiar voice, confirming I’m wrong. Sheishere. So is Chiara.

Carefully, I turn around.Fuck me.So much for a chill night. Mia and Chiara stand a couple of feet down the bar with two guys who are crowding in too close. I clench my jaw, my hackles rising when one of them leans into Mia.

I move slowly, my steps controlled, willing myself not to lash out.

“Or she’s just playing hard to get,” the asshole closest to Mia says. “Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

Fucker.

I stop behind him and tap his shoulder. When he turns, I take a step back. The guy has to be in his mid-thirties. Short black hair, neat mustache, buttoned-up pink shirt. Typical white-collar dude, cocky but also drunk.

“What do you want?” he slurs.

“She said no.” I step closer, making sure to pull my shoulders back.

“And who the hell are you?” He gets in my face, trying to intimidate me, but he’s several inches shorter and too wobbly to be even a tiny bit formidable.

“Someone who’s telling you you’re done here. The girls aren’t interested.”

He snickers. “She accepted the drink I bought her. Sheisinterested.”