I thought, for sure, that he hated me. After our whole fiasco, I thought we were over. And yet, when he held me just now, it almost felt like old times.
But none of this makes any sense.
Did I leave Club Echo to go home with him? Did he show up at the club unexpectedly? What was Bruce doing at Club Echo anyway? If I remember correctly, he’s not much of a partier. He prefers to stay at home and enjoy the comforts of his own home with a stiff drink and a pretty woman on his arm. None of this is adding up.
And what about Tom Benning? Oh no.
“Here you are, Miss,” the driver announces, pulling up to my home.
“Thanks.” I tip him through the Uber app before heading inside.
There, I immediately head toward the bathroom. I need a shower. Desperately. I strip down, toss my dress into the hamper, and turn on the hot water. As I wait for it to warm up, I glance out the small window. It’s still dark yet. What time is it, anyway? I check my phone, squinting through the brightness. Five in the morning. Lovely. I really should be in bed right now.
An inkling of morning light creeps on the horizon. It’s pretty, but I can’t admire its true beauty in my current state. My mind is still full of cobwebs, and my body feels sluggish. It must be the alcohol.
The bathroom starts to fog up, so I step into the shower, eager to get rid of Tom’s cigarette smoke from my hair.
As I clean up, I replay my lousy date with the movie star. More and more details are coming into focus – from his sexist comment about my car to his utter neglect of me once he started talking to a pair of busty redheaded twins. It’s almost like a sick joke, come to think of it. Or a parody of a sick joke, if that makes sense.
“What a scumbag,” I mutter to myself. You know, I’d expected so much more. Tom was my Hollywood crush. I thought that going on a date with him would be a dream come true, but it was just an epic flop.
Tom is kind of an arrogant ass.
No. He’s definitely an asshole.
No wonder I didn’t go home with him.
But that still doesn’t answer the question that’s been nagging at me all this time. How in the world did I wind up in Bruce’s bed?
I shampoo my hair, being very thorough. I don’t want any trace of cigarette smoke to linger because I really do hate the smell. It’s a nasty habit. Realistically, Tom and I would never have worked, but I was a girl following a dream and ignoring logic.
Eventually, I turn off the water, wrap a towel around my body, and head into the bedroom. There, I go through my drawers, pull out my comfiest pair of pajamas, and toss them on. Finally, I slip into bed, settling underneath the covers.
I stare at the wall, my mind too abuzz to let me sleep. What really happened last night? I run my hands over my waist, reminding myself how good it had felt when I woke up with Bruce’s arm around me.
God, why did I leave?
When I found out I was in his house, why didn’t I just turn around and get back into bed with him? I could be safely in his arms right now, sound asleep. Everything would be back to the way it used to be before he lost it and banished me from his life.
I miss him. I miss him like hell.
Feeling lonely, I grab a pillow and hug it tightly against my body, hoping to fill the emptiness in my mind and body.
It doesn’t help.
Because what I really want is Bruce.
20
Bruce
I groan as the morning light hits my bed. Without thinking, I turn around, about to doze off again when it hits me. Katie’s not in my bed anymore.
Quickly, I sit up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Then, once I glance around the room, I realize that all of her things are gone, too.
“Fuck,” I groan loudly, getting out of bed. “The sheets smell like fucking cigarette smoke.” I shake my head, running my fingers through my hair. “Damn nightclubs.”
I head for the shower, taking my time. My body feels sluggish after only a few hours of sleep. My mind takes its time to get back into working order. This whole thing is one big mess. Was it even worth my time to get involved?
As I step under the torrent of warm water, I picture Katie, slumped over at the club. Of course, I couldn’t just leave her there. That prick, Tom Benning, was just going to abandon her like some worthless piece of female flesh. God knows what would have happened to her if I hadn’t shown up.
