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“Got everything?” Rook asks me.

“I... shoot, left my phone.” I go fetch it from the room.

I come face-to-face with Riot on my way back. He’s coming out of Sonatina’s “love nest” with his phone in his hand and some deep lines around his eyes. They smooth out when his pewter gaze lands on me. His breath catches. He takes a step into my space.

“Don’t,” I warn him.

His face falls.

It’s fucking hard not to reach out and console him. I don’t want him to hurt any more than I do. But he did this to us. And like Dizzy said, he needs to realize that I should be his whole damn world.

“You look...” he blows out a tortured breath. “Stunning.”

“Thank you.” I slide my phone into the top of my boot. Gesture at the way I’m going. “I should...”

“Please.” He grabs my wrist.

I shake my head as all the hurt, sadness, and longing bubble up inside me. “Riot, I—”

He pulls me to him, and I can’t make myself stop him. Even though I want to. Even though I know I should.

He wraps his arms around me, buries his face in the crook of my neck. His chest shudders under my hands.

“I’m sorry.” His lips murmur on my skin. “I’m so fucking sorry, Kelsey.”

I fight to hold it together. Will I ever stop caring about him... loving him? All I know is I have too much self-respect to let him back in while the world thinks he’s engaged to her. “Don’t ruin my night for me, Riot. Don’t come with your apologies and nothing to back it up with. You want me to believe in you... give me a reason to.”

He lets me go.

And though my heart hurts like it’s being shattered all over again each time we talk, I paste on a smile as I join the others. “Let’s go.”

12

Kelsey

The club is busy. It’s loud. Strobe and black lights glide over the crowd, casting everyone in different colors.

My grin is bigger than my cocktail as we make our way from the bar to the dance floor. I was hyping myself the whole way here, but now that we’ve arrived and the music is pumping through me... girls’ night is exactly what I needed.

Dizzy has something sherbet pink that she hasn’t stopped sucking through the straw since the bartender handed it to her. We might not even make it onto the dance floor before she wants to go back to the bar.

Willa is more sedated in her drink and her dress choice. Tiny little black dress, short tumbler with the top shelf scotch.

Ahead, the dance floor undulates with sweaty bodies. Some of which are dancing so close together it’s hard to tell where one person stops and the other begins.

Stale beer, fruity sweet drinks, and a bazillion different colognes and perfumes linger in the air. And there is something else... something gritty, dark, and wicked.

Fuck. I missed this life. Concerts and parties and wicked moments in dark, yet public places. Dancing and having fun.

But I would never think of it again if Harlowe were still here with me. For one agonizing second it feels like my heart stops. Will remembering her ever stop hurting so much?

Dizzy squeezes my hand. “Can I kill Sonatina yet?”

She brings me out of my spiraling thoughts, and I couldn’t be more grateful. I fake a smile. “Not yet.”

“Let’s dance.” In her hurry to get me on the dance floor, she almost pulls me out of the glossy, thigh high heels I wore with my short, fitted cherry red romper. I hoped the boots would hide a few of the bruises Marco left that aren’t on my face.

I thought Willa might have seen them when I was getting ready, but she hasn’t said anything to me. And I’m assuming not to Dizzy either because there’s no way she wouldn’t have come out and asked me about them. So maybe she didn’t see them.