“Good. Let’s start right now, shall we? Have you slept with him?”
“Nope.” I pop thePextra loudly.
“A beej?”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Hm. What about a handie in that swanky bathroom of yours?”
I swing my head from left to right. “No. Nothing. Haven’t even kissed the guy.” The night of firsts didn’t include a kiss with Jackson, unfortunately. After the fireworks, Sammy got sleepy, and the mood shifted again, returning a bit to how it was when we first got there. We left shortly after.
“We did almost kiss,” I say. “But the first time, we got interrupted by his vomiting grandfather.”
Ollie scrunches up his face. “Okay. I definitely don’t want to know about that. You said first time?”
“Yeah. The second time, Sammy stormed in and ruined the moment.”
“Bummer.” He assesses me for a moment. “So what is it, then? What is it about this Jackson guy that’s got you all twisted up like this?”
I run my hands up and down my thighs a few times. “I wish I fucking knew. I’ve been asking myself the same question.”
“Anything come to mind?”
My hands settle in my lap, and I speak softly when I say, “He makes me feel something. For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel numb. You know this, but all my life, I feel like I’ve just been going through the motions. Doing what was expected of me without giving any thought to what I wanted to do. Even buying this place, it felt more like I was doing it for the sake of having something to do, ya know? But then Jackson comes along…”
A smile forms on my lips as I recall seeing him storming across the crowded bar to let that smug prick Ridge have it. “I can’t explain it, man, but there’s something about him that gets me in here,” I say, tapping my chest.
“Je-zus. I thought you’d say something about how hot his ass looks in those tight jeans he’s wearing today.” When a possessivegrowl rumbles out of me, Ollie tips his head back and laughs. “Don’t go all caveman on me. Mav. Wow. You’ve got it bad.”
“Tell me about it.” I rest my elbows on my knees and drop my head.
Ollie places his hand on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You have to be careful here. One, you’re his boss. That could have legal implications if you cross a line and things go wrong. And two, make sure you look after yourself. You’re too nice, and people take advantage of that. Your sobriety has to be your top priority.”
“I know. And it is. I promise you.”
Ollie gives my shoulder another firm press, an understanding passing between us in the silence that follows.
He was there for my absolute worst, lowest moment.
Luca Van den Broek blew into my world like a hurricane. And the aftermath was just as bad.
Half-Dutch, half-Swiss, he was a couple of years older, an underground installation artist with a cult following in Europe, wildly attractive, and the most charismatic person I’d ever met.
Everyone in my closest social circle—a group of equally bored and lost nepo babies—wanted him.
But he chose me.
Or so I thought.
For a few months, we partied, we drank, and we fucked. Unfortunately, he only did the first two with me. The fucking? He did that with half of my friendship circle. The other half knew about it but never bothered to tell me.
The shine had started to fade before I found that out. His outgoing exuberance was a mask to hide his bitter, cruel personality. When I discovered what was going on behind my back, I cut my friends out of my life but stupidly let Luca convince me to give him another chance.
In my heart, I knew it was the wrong decision. So, unhappy with the choice I made, we started drinking. Heavily. The relationship never recovered, and when I finally called it off, my alcohol consumption increased even more.
I was losing my shit, and my life was going downhill fast. I started skipping work. Drinking at home by myself every day. Distancing myself from my family. I hated who I was becoming, but the addiction took over. I felt powerless to fight back.
I was drowning in the pain Luca caused, mixed with years of feeling lost and like I was worthless and life was meaningless. It was made worse by losing the only friends I ever had at the same time. Even though I can now see they weren’t real friends, at the time, it wounded me. For better or for worse, I thought that I could trust them. When that trust shattered, it destroyed me. My whole world had been blown apart.
