2. Friend-zoned by Him

Valerie

I sat in my car with my hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles had gone white. The leather creaked under my grip as I stared straight ahead at nothing, trying to remember how to breathe around the rage and humiliation churning in my gut.

Stupid.

I’d actually thought tonight would be different. Had actually put on this goddamn dress and done my hair and makeup like some pathetic romantic comedy heroine who believed that the right outfit would finally make the oblivious guy see what was right in front of him. I had actually let myself hope that Chelsea getting married meant I finally had a chance.

What a fucking joke.

The club’s bass still thumped faintly through the closed windows of my car, a mocking rhythm that seemed to say you should have known better, you should have known better. I should have. After ten years, I definitely should have known better.

But hope was a persistent, cruel thing. It kept whispering that maybe this time would be different, that maybe Sebastian just needed the right…

A sharp knock on my window made me jump, my heart leaping into my throat. I turned to find Sebastian standing there, slightly disheveled, concern etched across his stupidly perfect face. He made a rolling motion with his hand, gesturing for me to lower the window.

I wanted to drive away, leaving him standing the way he’d left me standing in that club with a broken whiskey glass at my feet. But my traitorous hand was already reaching for the button, the window sliding down to let in the cool night air and Sebastian’s familiar scent.

“Val, what the hell?” he said, leaning down to look at me properly. “Why did you leave? I turned around and you were just gone.”

You turned around? I thought bitterly. That’s generous. Pretty sure you had your face buried in that girl’s neck for a solid ten minutes before you even remembered I existed.

But I didn’t say that. Instead, I heard myself saying, “I just wasn’t feeling it. The noise, the smoke, all those people… it was too much.”

The lie tasted like ash on my tongue, but it was easier than the truth. Easier than saying I left because watching you grope a stranger an hour after sobbing over Chelsea.

Sebastian’s expression shifted to something that might have been amusement if it wasn’t so condescending. “Seriously? You got all dressed up like that…” he gestured at my outfit, “…and now you’re hiding in your car because of a little noise?”

Heat flooded my cheeks. “I didn’t say I was hiding…”

“You’re literally hiding, Val.” He shook his head, but he was smiling now, that fond, slightly mocking smile he always gave me when he thought I was being ridiculous.

Before I could formulate a response that didn’t involve screaming, the words came tumbling out: “Speaking of which…” I couldn’t help myself now, the anger I’d been swallowing finally finding its voice, “…how are you already moving on to someone else so fast? You were crying in my arms about two hours ago!”

Sebastian’s smile faded slightly, but he didn’t look ashamed. If anything, he looked irritated that I was bringing it up. “She’s just a slut, Val. You don’t develop feelings for girls like that. They’re for entertainment purposes only.”

Entertainment purposes?

The casual cruelty of those words hit me like a physical blow. This was Sebastian at his most honest, women were either Chelsea, the one he’d actually loved, or they were entertainment.

And where did that leave me? Not entertainment, clearly. He’d had ten years to see me that way if he was going to. So what was I? The backup plan? The emotional support animal? The woman-shaped security blanket he could wrap himself in whenever things got hard?

“She’s helping me get over Chelsea,” Sebastian continued, completely oblivious to the way I was white-knuckling the steering wheel again. “That’s all just a distraction. Nothing serious.”

Why can’t I be the distraction? I wanted to scream. Why can’t I be the one helping you forget? Aren’t I attractive enough? I’ve won Face of the Pack three times! I’ve been Miss Wolf for three years! What the actual fuck do I need to do to get you to see me as a woman instead of just… whatever this is?

I opened my mouth to say something, and then, a movement behind him caught my eye.

The girl from the club was approaching, her hips swaying in a way that was clearly intentional, her lips curved in a knowing smile. She didn’t even acknowledge my presence. Just walked right up to Sebastian and ran her hands over him.

Like I wasn’t sitting two feet away watching the whole thing, Sebastian turned away from my window, giving her his full attention. His hands found her waist, and he pulled her close. She giggled and pressed herself against him in a way that left absolutely nothing to the imagination about what she wanted.

They were barely moving, just swaying together, his hands roaming over her body while she whispered something in his ear that made him grin.

Then he grabbed her ass with both hands possessively-rough again, followed by her delighted squeal. She bit her lip, looking up at him through her lashes in a practiced move that screamed experience with this kind of game.

“Go wait for me inside, baby,” Sebastian said, his voice low and rough in a way I’d never heard him use with me. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

She pouted but obeyed, trailing her fingers across his chest one more time before sauntering back toward the club, making sure to put extra sway in her hips. Sebastian watched her go, his eyes tracking her movement like a predator watching prey.

Sebastian turned back to me, “So, listen,” he said, leaning against my car door with the easy confidence of someone who’d never been denied anything in his life. “I’m going to head back in. Have some fun and try to forget about… everything.”

“You don’t need to wait for me,” he continued, and I realized with a jolt that he was dismissing me. Actually telling me I could leave. “I’ll just grab an Uber home later. There's no point in you sitting out here all night, okay?”

He reached through the window and pinched my cheek like I was a child or a pet and gave me that fond, patronizing smile again. “Thanks for trying to cheer me up, Val. You’re the best.”

Then he was gone, jogging back toward the club. I sat there in stunned silence, my cheek still tingling from where he’d touched me.

I slammed my palms against the steering wheel, the horn blaring briefly before I caught myself. A couple walking past my car jumped, startled, then hurried away when they saw my face.

You can’t unfriend-zone yourself once a man put you in that category, right?

God, I was pathetic.