Page 57 of The Wrong Game

“Whoa, whoa,” she said, catching me by the arms and holding me upright.

Her eyes turned to slits when Andy tried to steal me from her grasp.

“I’ve got her,” she said to him.

“We were just leaving.”

“And now,we’releaving,” Belle said, pointing between the two of us. “As in, me and her, and not you.”

Andy scoffed, looking to me for back up.

“She’s right,” I slurred, shaking my head. “I don’t want to leave with you.”

“That’s not what you said literally five minutes ago,” he breathed like a dragon.

“She changed her mind.” Belle puffed up her chest, shielding me behind her. “Now, scram.”

Andy rolled his eyes, and I swore I heard him mutter something about me being a cock tease as he ripped open the door to the bar and flew back inside. I closed my eyes, but they shot open again once I remembered what mission I’d been on.

“I have to go talk to Zach,” I slurred.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Belle said, catching me by the waist and spinning me away from the door again. “Look, I ordered us an Uber, we’re going home, you’re going to bed, and then you can figure the rest out in the morning. Okay?”

“But—”

“You’re drunk, Gemma,” Belle said. “And, you had a shit night. Sleep it off, and you can call him in the morning with whatever it is you need to say. Deal?”

I could barely register her words, so I just nodded, and she pulled me into her on a long breath. She held me until the moment the car came, and then we piled in, and the ride home was just as blurry as the night had been.

Belle got me inside and tucked into my bed, but as soon as she was gone, I stumbled to my bathroom and fell to my knees on the tile in front of my toilet. The entire room spun as I stared at that porcelain, the water just waiting to catch whatever I needed to throw at it, but nothing came.

I closed my eyes, twisting until my back was against the toilet as I let out a sigh. My feet flopped out in front of me, and I sank down, running my hands back through my hair that had fallen out of my ponytail.

I was a mess.

The tequila swam in my bloodstream as I sat there, and I didn’t know how much time passed before I crawled out of the bathroom, locking my front door before I swiped my phone off the kitchen counter. The screen blurred as I typed, fingers moving in slow motion like they were under water as I texted Zach.

- Ha, guess I win, huh? Told you you were wrong about me being at the bar to see you. -

I sent the text with an emoji, one winking and sticking its tongue out. But when nothing came through from Zach in response, I sighed, typing out another.

- I’m sorry. -

I let eleven minutes pass, staring at my screen like I could will him to text me if I held my eyes open long enough. I shouldn’t have texted him. If Belle was there, she wouldn’t have let me. She was right. I needed to sober up, to apologize to him the way he deserved.

But the tequila was swirling in my stomach and my head, making me want to text him again, and I threw my phone across the room onto my couch before I gave in to temptation.

I needed sleep.

I couldn’t solve anything tonight, and truthfully, I didn’t know how to make sense of anything, anyway. When I left the bar, I was gloating, satisfied with proving my point. I was angry at Zach. I wanted him to leave me the hell alone.

But when the car had driven me and Belle across town, I couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said.

I don’t know what happened, I don’t know who hurt you. But I can see it. I can see you hurting and I promise you, from experience, running from it won’t make it go away.

It seemed the more I tried to push him away, the more Zach tried to get me to let him in. I just couldn’t figure out why.

What’s more, I couldn’t figure out why part of me wanted to give in.