Chapter 2

SABRINA

I threw my head back and closed my eyes, drowning the burning liquid in one gulp. I let out a cough as I dropped the glass on the counter, clearing my throat to ease the bitterness on my tongue.

I knew vodka was strong, but I never thought it would be this strong.

I guess it's because I've never been much of a drinker, and the sinking feeling of watching other people drink around me still remains. But given what happened, I feel like I'm entitled to it.

"Another shot, I'm guessing." I look up as Liam throws a rag on his shoulder, looking down at me.

I nodded, knowing very well that he wasn't going to hear me over the raging lyrics of Kiss Me More by the Doja Cat that were already threatening to destroy my eardrums. He rested his arms on his waist, eyeing me with a look of concern, or what I thought it would be; I could barely see him through the flashing of neon lights.

"I'm not so sure about that..."

I raise my hand, cutting him off. "Listen, Liam, I had a really fucking rough week, and the last thing I need right now is a lecture about how bad I'm ruining my lungs or whatever the fucking shit you're going to say."

I tap on my empty glass. "Just get me another fucking drink," I snap.

He raised one of his eyebrows at me, his lips going down in a disapproving frown.

Realizing that I was too harsh, I let out a sign, casting my eyes down on the counter.

"I'm sorry, I'm just going through a lot right now, and I need a drink."

To forget the image of my best friend in between my boyfriend's legs.

Liam's eyes softened in understanding, and he turned around to make my drink.

It felt like it was carved into my brain with a scraper, refusing to leave no matter what I did or how much I drank.

It won't just fucking go away.

I've never felt like such a big idiot as I felt at the moment, like a clown that was forced onto a stage, stripped bare, and made fun of in front of millions of people. I felt so stupid to believe that the past three years were real and that the man I loved and was ready to finally build my life with loved me.

And the fact that he couldn't give me the dignity to cheat on anyone else, of the 8 billion people in the world, than my fucking best friend.

Of course, this would happen to me.

It always happens to me.

My breathing grew shallow, and I could stop the tears that stunned the corner of my eyes.

For the past few days, I have been in bed. All I could think about was them together, all the times they fuck on the same fucking bed that we shared sometimes. In the same house, I share the deepest secret of my life that I have never shared with anyone, not even Emily.

How long has it been going on? How many times did he kiss and hold me after touching Emily?

My skin crawled at the thought of it, and I almost had the urge to throw up the martinis and vodka. Staying under hot water and scrubbing my skin red had not helped me get rid of the disgust I felt for myself for letting him touch me all this while either.

How could he do this to me? Did all the promises he made after knowing what I went through mean nothing to him?

God, why does this keep happening to me?

I've never felt so- used.

All I want is to forget about it, to wipe my memory of that evening from my brain and that of him too.

"Here's your drink, darling." Liam dropped the glass of mai tai in front of me, giving me a soft smile that screamed pity.

It made my skin boil—the fact that Mike put me in this position to be pitied. I quickly wiped the lone tear that ran down my cheeks and gave him an appreciative smile as I took the glass, taking a large sip. Trying my best to forget about the mistake that is my ex.

Who hasn't even bothered to call or text me since I caught him with his pants down.

Maybe my mother was right; maybe true love doesn't exist.

Or maybe it's just me who's not deserving of love.

I turned around to face the dance floor, watching the roomful of people who barely breathed in without smelling someone's armpit or sweat grind and squeeze each other, yelling and hopping along to the music, the flashing neon lights, the smell of weeds, and the smoke overcrowding my senses.

But it was comforting, even though it shouldn't be.

At the very least, it's easing the pain where my heart is supposed to be.

I bobbed my head along to the music as I closed my eyes, taking another sip. And when my eyes opened again, they landed on the gray eyes watching me from the VIP section above the dance floor.

I couldn't see any other feature, but his eyes—

It felt like his eyes held me in place, glowing in the surrounding darkness of the club. Even though I caught him staring, he didn't look away, instead leaning closer to the railing and crossing his hand on it. I knew I should look away, but I just can't bring myself to.

And I didn't want to.

I took another sip of my drink, our eyes still interlocking with each other as I leaned forward in my seat, winking at the mystery man who couldn't seem to keep his eyes off me.

"Do you need another one, love?"

startled from staring at the mystery man, I turned my head to Liam and shook my head. He nodded and left.

I turned back to the mystery man, but he was gone.

I scanned the VIP section for the gray eyes that caught my attention, but I couldn't find any sight of him. It was almost like he disappeared into thin air.

Why am I even interested in him? I'm swearing off men right now.

I drown down the last of my drink and push the glass close to Liam's corner before pushing my chair backward and getting up.

It was a bad idea to come here; I should be at home stuffing my face with ice cream and watching the re-run of the nanny while bailing my eyes out with a high pile of tissues around me. But that's when I have a bad day, and I don't want to bother anyone with my rants.

But this, this runs deeper than that.

It feels like my heart is being sliced piece by piece inside my chest and being ripped apart just to be sewn back together again and forced to go through it again.

All I wanted was something to numb the pain, and even if the alcohol is relieving some of the pain, it's not getting rid of it like I prayed it would.

I should go.

"Li, I'm leaving," I slurred, searching for my purse for my card.

"You're not going to drive, are you?"

"Of course I'm not. I may be feeling suicidal, but I'm not that suicidal," I joked.

"I hope not; it would be a shame to lose a stunning beauty like you."

Before I could react, a hand reached across the side of my face and dropped a black card on the table. "I'll pay for her tab."

Surprised, I turned to thank the man for paying for my drinks, but my voice died in my throat when my eyes set on what I guarantee is the hottest man I've ever seen in my life.

His gray eyes looked down on me, and his soft-looking lips smiled, revealing his perfect set of parley white teeth, and then I realized that he was the man that was watching me from the VIP earlier.

The same man who's very close to me.

As the drunk fool that I am, I keep on studying his godlike features, like his smooth tan skin, his black curly hair, and the stubbles that are planted on his chiseled jaw. My eyes cast downward to his suit, which I was sure could buy my apartment, and his ripping abs made his button fight for their lives.

Fuck, why is he so hot?

"You okay?" The mysterious hottie asked, his voice deep with an accent that sounded familiar, but I couldn't place my hand on it.

And he has an accent—holy shit.

"Urm, yes, yes." I shook my head to remove the sinful thoughts swimming in my mind, my cheeks heating up at the sinfulness. What's wrong with me? I'm fanning over him like a teenage girl who has never seen muscles before.

"Thank you," I said.

He didn't say anything; his attention turned to Liam as he collected his card back from him.

"What are you doing here, Sabrina?"

My eyes snapped up at him, and my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

I think I would remember a work of art if I had seen him before.

"No, but I know you," he answered, staring into my eyes.

"Should I be worried?" I blurted out, too drawn by the thought of running my hand through his soft-looking, slick hair to think about the possible danger I'm in.

He chuckled. "Only a fool would hurt a girl like you," he said, his eyes never leaving mine.

I swallowed.

"Now answer my question: What are you doing here alone?" He moved closer to me, the smell of his black coffee cologne invading my nose, and I sucked in a deep breath.

"Can't a girl come to the club to have a little fun?" I cross my arms and shift away from him.

There's something about his aura that screams power, and a normal day made me nervous, but for some reason it didn't.

Today, I like it.

I know I shouldn't; this guy gave me the dangerous factor; one look could send it to anyone in the depths of hell, but in the back of my mind, I wanted him to take me there.

Jesus, what the hell has gotten into me?

I'm drunk, that's what.

He smiled at me, a glint in his eyes. "Isn't your little boyfriend going to be mad that you're all alone without him?"

My heart jumped a beat at the mention of him, and I couldn't stop the frown from settling on my face. Of course, that son of a bitch always finds his way into my life when I'm trying to move on from him.