He’s ridiculous, but I can’t stop smiling, knowing he willingly climbed on a table just to tell everyone I’m his.
But because the universe can’t let me enjoy anything for more than three minutes, I hear two girls near the hallway, talking too loudly to be subtle.
“Didn’t you hook up with Austin Rhodes last year?”
“Mmhmm,” the other says, sipping from her drink. “Twice. He was wild.”
I go still, my ears perking up.
The first girl laughs. “God, you’re so lucky. He’s so hot.”
“He used to throw me around like a ragdoll.”
The other one snorts. “Think he’s like that with her?”
She laughs in response. My stomach sinks. “Are you kidding? She looks like she doesn’t even open her legs for him.”
Aurora freezes when she finally hears them.
“I mean,” one continues, “she’s got a pretty face, but come on. He’s Austin Rhodes. He’ll get bored. What does he even see in her?”
“That’s probably why he’s shouting it from the coffee table,” the other adds. “Trying to convince himself.”
Something sharp lodges in my throat. I grip my cup tight in my hand. My face burns for a whole new reason.
Aurora turns and steps toward them. “You done listing your sex résumé? Congrats, you got laid. No one fucking cares.”
They whip around, startled.
“It’s a party,” one of the girls replies. “We’re just talking.”
“No,” Aurora says flatly. “You’re running your mouth about someone’s girlfriend.”
The girl rolls her eyes and they stalk off, muttering under their breath.
Isabella’s hand finds my arm. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I lie.
Aurora glances at me, her brows knitted, and Isabella wears a similar expression. They don’t really look like they believe it, but they don’t push either.
I move toward the drinks, dump what’s left of my cup, and refill it with whatever’s closest. My hands shake as I lift the cup to my mouth. The burn of vodka hits hard, but it’s not enough to drown out the words still playing on loop.
What does he even see in her?
He used to throw me around.
He used to want girls like them.
And now he’s with me.
My chest tightens. I thought I was over this. Over the body image stuff. Over the voice in my head telling me I’m not enough.
But it’s back. Yelling, filling every single one of my thoughts.
I tell myself not to let it in.
Not to let their words carve into me.
