Chapter Twenty-Four
Justin
“Follow You”- Bring Me The Horizon
“Fuck. Chris.” A moan echoes off the pool deck. Everyone at the table looks up to the balconies.
Some girl across from me plasters her hand over her mouth. Another one stares, wide-eyed at the hotel. “Oh, someone’s screwing Chris Talon. Lucky bitch.”
“Slut... ” another girl slurs before slamming back another shot.
Another loud moan ping-pongs around the concrete walls. I sink down into the seat because I know that moan.Fucking Marisa.I cast my eyes up toward the balconies, trying to pinpoint which one they’re on.
“So... ” the drunk girl across from me leans on the glass table, tipping one side of it up. “How long have you two been dating?” She sloppily points between me and Amy.
I glance at Amy and before I can say a word, she’s smiling. “Oh, about two weeks.”Fuck...All I can do is shrug.
“Oh, you have no idea how many girl’s hearts you’ve just broken.” Drunky’s eyes bounce between me and Amy, and I wonder if she can see my cheeks turning red in the dark. “So where did you meet?”
“Well, that’s a cute story. I had been unpacking all day and just, you know, needed a drink to unwind. I couldn’t find a liquor store and ended up going into this bar.”
I slam my head down on the table because someone put me out of my fucking misery. I feel Amy’s fingers sweep over my back. “Baby, you okay?”
“Yeah,” I huff, keeping my head on the table. “Just... ” I wave her off and she goes on and fucking on about how we met in that bar. About how Cobain was there and must have known we had a connection and that’s why he trotted over to her.How about you dropped your keys and he’s just a nosey motherfucker.I lift my head up and lightly pound it against the glass.
“You sure you okay, baby?”
“Yep.” I sit up, and the world spins a little. Three beers later, Amy and that girl are best friends and are planning a girl’s trip that Amy keeps telling me I’m not allowed on.Jesus. I’m not planning on talking to her after tonight.No problem keeping me off that damn trip.
The glass doors slide open and Marisa prances out. Her hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun and she’s wearing the shirt Chris had on at the signing. He walks out all broad shoulders and wide steps. A few of his douchebag friends are at the pool bar, and they all applaud and shout when he walks around the side of the pool.
“Fucking Talon, where were you at?” One yells.
The shorter one of the group stands up. He and Chris high-five. “Ah, they were up there fucking each other.”
My eyes dart back over to Marisa who’s turning away from the bar with a drink in her hand. She looks at me, smiles, and walks straight to my table, cocking that damn hip of hers to the side when she stops next to me. “Hey, babe,” she says with a slight giggle.
Amy immediately places her hand on my arm, and I crack my neck to the side, the sudden spike in my blood pressure evident by the pulsing in my temples. “Have a good time, huh?” I nod toward Talon.
Marisa sighs, stirring her straw in her drink. “Yep. Afuckinggreat time.” My grip on the armrest tightens and I swallow. “What about you, Amy,” she lilts, “did you enjoy yourself at the signing? Having a great time with Justin, hmmm?”
“It was fun. Interesting.”
“That’s a good word—” Marisa’s blue eyes dart to me, narrowing, “interesting. Justin is good at making thingsinteresting.” Her gaze falls back to Amy. “Well, good to see you again. I’ve got to get back to my fuckbuddy now. I’m sure you understand, right,dear friend?”
Oh—Now, I do grit my teeth—she is fucking something. After she walks off, all the women at the table stare at me. “Who is she?” one of them asks.
“Marisa Dawson. With one ‘s’,” I say as I push my chair back. “I’ll be back.”
“Justin—” Amy starts.
“I said, I’ll be back,” I snap.
My heart pounds in my ears as I storm across the patio. Some fucker jumps from the side of the pool and water splashes on the leg of my jeans. Marisa’s nearly back to Chris when I catch her by the arm. “Hey,” I say. “What the hell was that?”
She shrugs. “I was just saying hi.”
“Hi?” I lean down close to her face. I swear I can smell his cologne on her and it sets my skin on fire with a jealous rage. “That was not hi.” My nostrils flare. “Did you fuck him?”
