Page 39 of The Toy Maker (The Pink Cherrie #1)

I squeezed my eyes shut, finally tearing myself away from Jason’s act of revenge.

I didn’t know how much time had passed before Jade snapped me out of it, “Dude, are you okay?”

I opened my eyes to see her curiously staring back at me. I looked past her and saw Wendy gathering herself off the floor, but Jason was nowhere to be found. Coward.

“Earth to Tara?” Jade prodded.

I forced my voice to remain neutral. “Yes.”

She raised an eyebrow, and I knew she didn’t buy it. Lucky for me, she had something else on her mind.

“Can you believe all that?” No, I couldn’t.

“Anyone else need to go change?” Sarah chimed in as the other Cherries gossiped.

“There was just too much chemistry there for them not to be doing it,” the Cherry beside me stated.

Her friend agreed, “I’ve heard that he always chooses one of us to fuck. It’s tradition.”

I tortured myself as the girls proclaimed how lucky Wendy was to be chosen and how they would give anything to be with him. Finally, the truth was clear.

Jason never wanted to be with me, he just wanted to use me.

And when he got bored, he’d move on to the next girl, if he hadn’t already.

I turned to leave, ready to escape before my heart collapsed— and then I locked eyes with Kitty. She wasn’t fawning over Jason. She wasn’t laughing like the other girls.

She was just watching me.

And for the first time all night, her face softened. She weaved through the crowd and pulled me into her embrace. I stiffened. But then, slowly, I let myself lean into her.

I fought back the urge to cry while she wrapped her arms around me; was I that obvious? She let go and stared at me for a moment before giving me a light smile and squeezing my hand.

“You should go home early today,” she said softly.

“What’s wrong?” Sarah must have noticed Kitty’s sudden affection. I opened my mouth to answer, but Kitty cut me off.

“She isn’t feeling well, and I think it’s best if she rests.”

The girls seemed to be satisfied with that excuse and sent me on my way with a few pats on the back.

--

I dragged my feet over the asphalt, every step feeling heavier than the last. The night air was frigid, pressing against my skin, but I barely felt it.

My mind was stuck—replaying the moment before I walked out the door with Ethan by my side, before Jason had completely shattered whatever delusions I had left.

I should’ve known better.

I did know better.

And yet, there I was, feeling like someone had reached inside my chest and twisted.

A sharp blare of a car horn snapped me out of my daze, and my body jerked to attention.

The driver threw up a hand in frustration before speeding off, and I forced myself to move again, quickening my pace until I reached my apartment.

I expected to walk into an interrogation, with my mother waiting with her usual arsenal of relentlessly nosy questions. I had been dreading the inevitable conversation leading to her sighs of disappointment and passive-aggressive remarks about my questionable career choices.

She thought being an accounting assistant was bad.

Just wait.

I expected a fight, but I was greeted with silence.

I flicked on the light switch to find everything how I had left it. Cereal crumbs were scattered on the floor from breakfast, and my dress from the night was tossed over the lampshade.

“Mom?” There was no answer, so I made my way to the guest room and peered inside. The bed was untouched. Not even a wrinkle in the covers. A sticky note sat in the center of the comforter, her neat handwriting staring back at me.

“ I’m sorry I interrupted your life. -Mom ”

I stared at the words for a long moment.

Then I scoffed, crumpling the note in my fist before tossing it onto the bed. I slumped down onto the floor, my back pressed against the nightstand.

Figures. The moment I could actually use some motherly advice, she was gone, leaving me with no distractions, only misery.

My fingers idly peeled at the label of the bottle Jade had slipped me earlier. She meant well. But I knew exactly what I was about to do, and I knew it wouldn’t help.

Still…

Now you see the alcohol. I twisted off the cap. Now you don’t.

As soon as my lips touched the glass, there was a knock at the door.

I froze. A small, stupid part of me wanted to believe it was Jason coming to beg for forgiveness, coming to tell me that it wasn’t what it looked like.

But deep down, I knew that was highly unlikely.

So I pushed myself off the ground and put on my best poker face for whoever had decided to stop by. And sure enough, when I pulled open the door?—

It was Ethan .

His dimples were visible as he grinned, like he wasn’t catching me in the middle of a downward spiral.

“How do you know where I live?” I sighed, too drained to pretend I was happy to see him.

“Kitty told me.” Great. Just when I had started to like her again. “She also told me what happened today,” he added, his expression softening.

I sighed, trying to push down the ridiculous lump forming in my throat. The last thing I needed was pity from the one person in the perfect position to scream, ‘ I told you so’ .

“Yeah, it was, um…” I struggled to find the right word.

“Shitty?” Ethan offered.

I exhaled. “Yeah.” He nodded like he understood exactly how deep the hurt ran. But he didn’t. Because the worst part of tonight wasn’t Jason hooking up with someone else.

It was that he wanted me to see it. He had set out to hurt me, and that was what stung the most.

“So, what do you want?” My voice came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t apologize. I was in no mood for polite chit-chat.

He hesitated for a moment. “Can I come in?”

I frowned before taking a swig of the whiskey, letting the burn settle in my chest. “No. I’m drinking, and I make bad decisions when I’m drunk.”

Ethan chuckled and glanced at the dingy floor. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to keep you company here then.” He shrugged.

Then, to my surprise, he sat down right outside my apartment like he had nowhere better to be. I fought back a smile.

“Care to join me?” he asked, patting the spot next to him.

I weighed my options:

A) Get smashed alone and sob myself to sleep.

B) Drink with a freakishly hot man who actually cares if I self-destruct.

It wasn’t really much of a choice.

I sank down beside him, stretching my legs out. The air was cool against my skin, but the whiskey was already doing its job, warming me from the inside out.

Ethan reached for the bottle, and I reluctantly handed it over. He took a slow sip before tilting his head. “Wanna play a game?” he asked.

I lifted a shoulder. “Sure.”

“It’s called never have I ever,” he explained. “What you do is say?—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know how it works.” I smirked. “You start.”

Ethan hummed, eyes narrowing in thought before his lips curled up into a grin.

“Never have I ever orgasmed in front of a crowd.”

“That’s targeting,” I complained.

He shoved the whiskey back into my hands. “Drink up.”

Muttering a curse under my breath, I took a big sip. The stairs creaked above him, but I assumed it was just one of my nosy neighbors listening in to my suddenly eventful life.

“My turn,” I said, giving him a sidelong look. “Never have I ever been a millionaire before thirty.” I figured that if he could target, then so could I.

Ethan huffed, “Worth a million or have a million in the bank?”

The fact he had to ask that told me all I needed to know. “Drink.”

He did and the game went on, back and forth, the whiskey disappearing faster than I realized.

By the time we were down to half a bottle, my head was propped up against the door frame as I waited for Ethan to complete his latest turn.

“I got it,” he slurred slightly. “Never have I ever fallen in love with my boss.”

I scoffed at his cheap shot and raised the bottle to my lips. “Fuck you for making me admit that.”

“Hey, at least you got to drink for it.” He took the liquor and held it up. “Cheers.”

“You fell in love with your boss?” I raised an eyebrow.

“What can I say? Authority revs my engine.” He was definitely drunk.

I laughed. “Don’t ever say that again.”

“Well, it made you laugh, didn’t it?” Ethan smiled as I stared at him for a long moment.

Ethan was good. He was kind, thoughtful, and honest in a way Jason never was.

But he wasn’t Jason.

“Never have I ever fell in love with the wrong man.” I reached for the bottle and accidentally brushed my fingers against his.

I could feel my heartbeat in the most obscure places as he leaned in. My body, numb from a cocktail of pain and poor alcohol tolerance, didn’t move away.

Then his lips were against mine, tasting like warm caramel and wanting.

But then reality snapped back into place. I pulled away, searching for words that didn’t exist. “I?—”

Ethan held his hand up for me to stop. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure?” I asked as he helped me to my feet.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I know how much you, well, you know.” He turned and started walking toward the stairs.

He was gone before I could say another word. Not that I would know what to say. I leaned against the door and groaned at my poor judgement.

A knock startled me out of my pity party. “Ethan, I’m so?—”

But when I opened the door, it was dark green eyes staring back at me.

“Ethan?” Jason asked. His voice was rough, but the expression on his face was soft.

“Yeah,” I croaked. “He was just here.”

“Did he come in?” He leaned forward, his eyes sweeping through my apartment behind me. He seemed… jealous , and after the day I had, I didn’t feel bad about that.

I crossed my arms. “Yes, actually.” I shot him a sharp glare. “I put on some sexy Latin tunes, and we did the tango.” I paused, before the alcohol got the best of me. “Butt-naked.”

Jason exhaled, rubbing his chin as he stared off into the hallway like he was actually picturing it. “I suppose I deserve that.” I didn’t disagree.

“What do you want?” I demanded, my patience hanging on by a thread.