Mag-log inZoella
The tequila was either working or plotting my death. Three shots in and i was 93% sure i could feel the lining of my stomach peeling, but i didn’t care. Everything was blurry in the best possible way. I was swaying on the dance floor like a malfunctioning roomba,my mascara already halfway down my cheeks. Somewhere in the back of my mind,a rational voice whispered, “Zo,maybe slow down a bit.” But that voice sounded a lot like Liam,so I flipped it off and ordered another drink,downing it in one go. To hell with him and to hell with Madison too. May their genitals fall off and spontaneously combust. I stumbled my way into the women’s restroom like a heroic drunk pirate,gripping the wall for balance. The lighting was unreasonably bright. Like surgical-table bright. My reflection in the mirror looked like a deranged raccoon who’d been through hell and then walked straight into Sephora. “Mirror mirror on the wall,” I muttered to myself,squinting at my reflection. “Who’s the dumbest bitch of them all?” It had to be me,for not seeing through Madison’s two faced front all these years and Liam’s selfish nature. I bent over the sink dramatically,bracing myself like i was about to confess to murder. “Jesus take the wheel,” I muttered. “Girl,you good?” A soft voice floated from one of the stalls. Then the door creaked open and out stepped a gorgeous girl in a skintight purple dress. Immediately raising a brow as she caught sight of my appearance. I laughed hysterically, gesturing vaguely to my mascara disaster,my tequila breath, and the emotional earthquake happening in my soul. “Do I look good?” She tilted her head studying me. “Honestly? You look like you caught your man cheating and drank two shots to numb the pain.” My jaw dropped. “How the hell did you know that?” She shrugged like it was the most casual psychic read ever. “You’re the third crying girl I’ve seen tonight. It’s always either a cheating man,a cancelled bachelorette trip or someone realizing their ex got hot. I just picked the first option.” “Well,” I hiccuped dramatically . Mine’s the deluxe combo. Cheating fiancé. Best friend. My house. And get this—he didn’t even use a condom.” “Ouch,” she winced. “That’s not heartbreak. That’s a disaster.” “Right?” I clutched the edge of the sink like it was about to whisper advice to me. “I walked in holding takeout. Thai noodles,his favorite. You know how long the wait is for those?” “Criminal,” she said with a nod of solidarity. “And the worst part?” I sniffled. “He said she was better than me. Like, in the middle of the act. Just—ramming into her like a damn hyena and giving five star ratings.” “Noooo,” she gasped. “Girl, no. Men don’t deserve anything good. I’m so sorry honey.” “I KNOW.” I wiped my eyes with a paper towel. “And she was my best friend, We’ve been inseparable Since middle school. We’ve braided each other’s hair,got into trouble together. I helped her hide her chin filler. I took her to Planned Parenthood in my mom’s car, for Christ’s sake!” “Okay, she’s trash,” the girl said, walking over and wrapping an arm around my shoulder like we’d known each other since birth. “What’s your name?” “Zoella.” “I’m Lani. And Zoella, you are hot, heartbroken, and entirely too pretty to be crying over a man who probably uses 3-in-1 shampoo.” I burst out laughing again, tears streaming but amused ones this time. “He does. It’s the worst-smelling bottle. It says shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. All in one!” Lani made a choking noise. “Oh honey, not the Holy Trinity of poor hygiene.” “I wasted six years on that man.” She handed me lip gloss like a ritual offering. “You know what we’re gonna do?” “What?” “You’re going to walk out of this bathroom with your boobs perked, your eyeliner fixed, and your ego fully reinstalled. Then you’re going to dance like you don’t even remember what his name was. And you’re going to flirt with the first hottie that says hi.” I blinked at her. “You think I can still pull?” She leaned in, reapplying the lipgloss like a seasoned war general prepping her soldier after which she started dabbing at my smudged mascara. “You’re gorgeous. Heartbreak just gave you main character energy.” And for the first time all night, I smiled without it hurting. ~~ Hours later Lani and I were wasted beyond repair. I had learnt that she was a hairstylist and a single mom who owned a salon around the bronx. We were currently on the dance floor,wedged between sweaty bodies,swaying our hips to the bass of the music when I suddenly felt the need for another shot. “I’ll be right back!. Need to get some more shots!!” I screamed at Lani over the loud thumping music. She gave me a thumbs up and a wide grin before turning back to the tall dark guy that was currently slow rocking her to the lyrics of Harry styles “Cinema”. I laughed softly as I made my way to the bar. I leaned against the bar like it had personally offended me,squinting at the cocktail menu. “Three tequila shots,please. Wait no. Two. I mean—three. I don’t want to seem weak. Or maybe. Oh I know. Do you have whiskey?” I paused, narrowing my eyes on the list again. “I feel like Whiskey girls don’t get cheated on.” The bartender gave me a look that said you good,sweetheart? but before he could say anything,a deep voice slid in beside me,smooth,rich and dangerous.” “Whiskey girls definitely get cheated on,” the stranger said. I turned so fast and nearly knocked over my drink. And my eyes were blessed with the most gorgeous sight ever. He was tall,broad shoulders shoved into a fitted charcoal button up with the sleeves rolled to the elbows revealing a flame tattoo that snaked up his arm. His jawline looked like it could cut diamonds. His dark hair was slightly curled,a stray strand falling across his forehead. And his eyes? The most sinful shade of green I had ever seen and the way he looked at me? Please no woman deserved to be looked at like that. Like he could consume you with one look. He looked older ,probably late thirties almost forty? “Well damn,” I said, blinking hard. “If whiskey comes with this kind of conversation,pour me a double.” His mouth quirked slightly. “Do you always flirt this shamelessly with strangers?” God he was hot. I want to lick him up. “Only on nights when I catch my fiancé playing scream my name with my best friend,” I tipped back the shot,wincing as it scorched a trail down my throat. “Cheers to betrayal.” He blinked as he gave me an assessing look. “I see. Rough night.” “You could say that.” I reached for another shot. “Do you believe in karma?” “No.” he said, holding my gaze. “I prefer Calculated revenge.” That earned him a lopsided grin from me. “Are you single? Because you’re hot.” He chuckled under his breath. A low rough and warm sound that instantly sent a jolt of electricity straight to my core. “You’re drunk,” he said. “I’m having fun,” I countered. He didn’t respond right away. Just looked at me like I was a weird little riddle someone dared him to solve. And then because apparently I had no self preservation left, I reached out and placed my hand on his solid,firm and sinful chest. “If I kiss you right now,” I asked,”is that rebounding or reclaiming my worth?” I saw the moment something flared in his eyes. Almost like lust? But just as soon as it appeared it vanished as his fingers gently curled around my wrist,lifting my hand away. Not harsh but firm. “Get some water, whiskey girl.” And then he turned and vanished into the crowd like some emotionally well adjusted Greek god with perfect timing and zero interest in my spiraling life and flirtations. “Buzzkill,” I muttered,even though my heart was still thudding from the sheer force of his proximity. ~~~ Thirty minutes later Lani and I stumbled outside, our hands looped together,giggling like school girls. “Did you call a rideshare?” I looked down at my phone,which was upside down. “Uh..yes. No.Wait. Yes.” I squinted at the screen. A black SUV. License plate something-something-7-9-4. I glanced up and spotted a black SUV with…blurry numbers. That had to be it,right? “Bingo!” I chirped,pointing triumphantly. Lani narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure you’ll get home safe?” “Yup. I’ll be crashing in a hotel tonight.” She sighed as I stumbled towards the car. “Call me when you’re safe in bed.” “I will. Good night,queen!” I threw her a dramatic salute and yanked open the door,climbing into the backseat with a groan. “Jesus can we go? I need a hot shower and a fluffy bed like…now” And then like some sick joke I heard that voice. Cool. Dry and annoyingly amused. “Are you following me?” My eyes flew open. Oh no. Am I dreaming? “Whiskey guy?!” I shrieked.ZOE’S POV You know that feeling of being watched? The one that makes your skin prickle and your pulse race at the same time? The one that tells you you’re taking a risk… and dares you to take it anyway. That was exactly how i felt as Julian’s words floated into my ears. “Eyes on me, baby. Don't fret about them down there. Let them watch if they want.” His voice was a command, deep and intoxicating, and it made my pussy throb with need. The dominance in his tone, the way he took control—it was exactly what I craved, that thrill of being exposed, of being his to command in front of the whole damn city. He bit my earlobe and continued whispering. “They won’t see your face.But honey,with the way i intend to fuck you,anyone watching would sure wish it was them.” My eyelids fluttered close as the images came alive in my head. I couldn’t help the moan that slipped past my lips. I turned back to him, nodding, my breath coming in short pants. He didn't waste time shoving m
ZOE’S POV The elevator hummed softly as it began its slow ascent. The walls were mirrored on three sides, polished to a shine that reflected us from every angle. The ride was charged with unspoken words. I stood next to him with my overnight bag at my feet, trying very hard not to stare. Being with him in the elevator reminded me of the first night we had met. That reckless shameless version of me who had leaned casually against mirrored walls and flirted with him as we went up to the hotel room. Back then, I hadn’t known who he was. Or what he was capable of. Back then, I’d been playing with fire without realizing the flames were real. Now? Now I knew exactly what he could do to me with just a touch. Julian’s phone vibrated softly in his hand. “Wolfe,” he answered, his voice shifting into something smooth and commanding. “Yes, Senator.” He paced once across the narrow space, his reflection multiplying in the mirrors. He looked calm,contro
ZOE’S POV I wriggled out of Julian’s arms and jumped to the floor, my heart still pounding as I scrambled into my shorts. I then heard the familiar voice of Old Mrs O’neil floating through the door, followed by another faint knock. “Zoe? Zoe dear, are you in there?” I glanced at Julian, startled by how fast he’d already pulled himself together. He was in his briefs and pants, calmly buttoning his shirt like we hadn’t just been wrapped around each other seconds ago. “Are you expecting someone?” he asked as his eyes met mine. I could see the look of displeasure on his face and hear the irritation in his voice. “That's my neighbor,” I said, fumbling with the button on my shorts. My fingers were still trembling. “I’m sorry. Let me see what she wants.” Mrs. O’Neil stood there clutching her cardigan—and beside her was Patrick. My stomach dropped. “Oh, my dear girl,” she rushed out, grabbing my arm. “Are you alright? I came over to speak with you and then this scary man
JULIAN’S POV Without hesitation, she stood on her tiptoes and reached for me. When her lips met mine, it was like a light switch flipped, and everything in the room became hot…. She didn’t stop for breath, her hands kept fisting the front of my shirt and yanking me closer, like she’d been holding back the same hunger I’d been choking down for days. I groaned into her mouth, inhaling the faint smell of lavender perfume she had all over her. My hands found her waist, and my thumbs began digging into the soft dip above her hips, pulling her tight against me so she could feel exactly what she was doing to me. “Julian,” she whispered, her voice wrecked already, “don’t stop.” “Wasn’t planning to,” I muttered. I walked her backward until her spine hit the wall beside the staircase, the plaster making her arch into me. I slid one hand up under her shirt, my palm was flat against the warmth of her stomach, feeling the quick rise and fall of her ribs. She shivered when my fingers
JULIAN’S POV The moment I exited the jet, I strode to my waiting car as Patrick held the back door open. “Welcome back to New York Sir.” he greeted. “Thank you Patrick,” I responded as I slipped into the car, took off my jacket, and settled into the seat. “Where to Sir?” he asked, his eyes locking with mine through the rearview mirror. “Upper West Side. Miss Monroe's house.” He nodded as he put the car in drive. My trip to Scotland had been a success, having closed more deals and put more plans in motion than I had set out to do. The only downside was that phone call that had left me antsy. I hadn't heard that voice or seen that face in years and the moment I heard it,my jaw had locked. Years of buried violence shifted under my skin, restless. Men like him didn’t resurface for small reasons. I needed to see Zoe. I told myself I was just checking on her, making sure she was okay. But it was more than that. She was mine, and I didn’t like not knowing what state
JULIAN’S POV I couldn’t remember the last time I’d apologized to anyone. It was a humbling realization that settled on me as I drove away from Zoe’s house, the city sliding past my windshield in streaks of gray and gold. It wasn’t that I thought I was always right. It was that I’d learned early on that apologies didn’t fix anything. They didn’t undo the damage. They didn’t rewrite outcomes. In my world, you corrected your mistakes with action, not words. And yet, I had stood in front of her, watched her fists clench at her sides, seen the disappointment shining behind her eyes— And I had said I’m sorry. Not strategically or as a means to sweep the issue aside as soon as I could. I’d meant it. That was what unsettled me. These last couple of weeks with Zoe have shown me a different side of myself. A side I never let out. I exhaled slowly, tightening my grip on the steering wheel. Most women learnt to move around my silences. They adapt themselves to my moods, t







