Page 135 of When We Fall: Part One

“It’s not whatever. What are you saying?” I demanded.

“I just…” She sighed. “Listen, have a good time tonight, OK? Be safe. You’re a De Santis heir, doing heir things. It’s dangerous out there.”

I ground my teeth at her words.

“I’m not your enemy,” I whispered, knowing what she was thinking. She thought I’d gone to the dark side. That I was siding with Matteo on shit. That couldn’t be further from the truth.

“You’re not really my friend anymore either. Good night, Ani.” The line went dead, and I stared down at it, frustrated out of my fucking mind.

Angry, I stormed out of the bathroom, needing to get the fuck out of there.

“Trouble in paradise?” Ryder asked as I came back into the room.

“She’s going to try for a baby with Cole. The wedding is still on. She’s not been practicing like she should be. S-she’s giving up.”

Trent nodded. “Makes sense. Does she even need her music career if she marries De Luca? The guy is loaded. He could take care of all of them without batting a lash.”

“We need to go. I gotta get out of here.” I raked my fingers through my hair, ignoring his words.

“Fuse?” Ryder asked.

I nodded. “Fuck it. Sure.”

“Good. We can get your dick sucked while we’re out. That’ll give you some clarity.” Ryder clapped me on the back and tossed my leather jacket to me. “Let’s ride.”

Trent grinned and followed Ryder to the door.

Fuck it. Maybe they were right.

I slammedinto the pussy I had bent over in a stall in the bathroom of Fuse. Her name was Miranda. Or Melissa. Orsomething with an M. I was wasted out of my goddamn head and just needed to feel something.

The condom on my dick was preventing that, though.

I hated fucking with a condom on.

I knew if Rosalie were here, I’d take her raw and hot, filling her pussy with my come. It would be me making babies, not fucking Cole Scott, that asshole prick.

Melissa or Miranda moaned, clutching her tits with one hand as they bounced. She came with a cry, her pussy clenching around my cock. This wasn’t working for me. I pulled free from her and spun her to face me. She giggled and tried to kiss me, but I turned my head and pushed her down after tearing off the condom.

“Suck,” I grunted, hoping this would help soothe my wounded soul. It always worked before.

She eagerly sucked my dick into her mouth and bobbed on it. I stared down at her, noting her red hair. I’d picked her specifically because, apparently, I liked to torture myself. Her hair wasn’t curly or nearly as vibrant as Rosalie’s, but if I squeezed my eyes closed, I could try to imagine she was her.

Which is exactly what I did as she gobbled on my dick, my piercing clanging against her teeth every now and then.

She wasn’t bad. Of course, I hadn’t had my dick sucked in forever, so anything probably felt good.

I envisioned Melissa or Miranda as Rosalie pleasuring me. It made the feelings intensify, making my heart flutter. I groaned, my fingers tangled in her hair. I let my head fall back and rest against the stall wall. Typically, getting laid or blown in a bathroom wasn’t for me, but I was going insane. I needed something. I’d stupidly listened to Ryder and Trent.

The best way to get over a dead fish was to get a new fish.

Stupid words, but they made enough sense.

In my mind, it was Rosalie’s moan, her hands clawing at my thighs as I fucked into her mouth. Her green eyes stared up at me like I was the love of her fucking life and she couldn’t live without me.

I let out a deep groan, filling her mouth with my release, my body trembling through the euphoria.

I was so fucking wasted that I was surprised I could even get my dick up.