Chapter 5
Anthony
The cold water rushing from the showerhead speared my shoulders, sizzling as it evaporated against the raging, volatile fire that rampaged unchecked just under my skin. 48 hours had passed since the episode at the club, and my fingernails scraped against the tile as I curled my hands into fists.
Hailey held out longer than I thought she would, and my deep admiration for her sheer force of will battled with my vehement hatred of it. She dominated every thought in my head—her drop dead gorgeous body flashed behind my eyelids each time I blinked—and the sound of her moan kept me awake at night.
Yet, this obsession I developed was the culmination of only about six total hours spent together. I’d gone back to the bar last night, but Hailey wasn’t there; the rejection that pierced my chest had given me a heavy dose of reality. Aside from that one conversation at the club, we hadn’t said more than twelve words to each other. She avoided eye contact, kept her window down despite the increasingly bitter cold of Autumn’s onset, and the amount of fucking effort she put into ignoring me was awe-inspiring.
Even my father and his irritating attempts to run the companies he’d dumped on me couldn’t distract me from her.
And that was saying something.
It didn’t help that I had nothing to do today but stew on this shitty situation. Twisting the shower knob off with a jerk, I ground my teeth as I stepped out of the polarized glass box and stretched my arms above my head. Every part of me was tense, but there was no promise for release, and I reached stiffly for a towel to wrap around my waist.
This hotel room wasn’t too bad in terms of luxury and price, and I swiped my cell phone off the end of the bed to find two new text messages.
Ophelia: I miss you. How’s your trip?
Rolling my eyes at her interest, I swiped away her text notification as a scowl twisted my expression.
Stu: don’t forget that you promised to get me those donuts before you get on the plane. I’ll honestly break up with you if you don’t.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Stu’s ugly ass mug flashed in my mind’s eye as I tapped on the tab, and I typed a swift response. Tossing my phone back onto the foot of the bed, I reached to rake my hands through my hair and rock back on my heels.
This trip—I felt like I was in an entirely different world where nothing mattered but shoving my cock down Hailey’s throat. She was beautiful, work-orientated, and successful; she was exactly my type of woman. And, once again, I’m thinking about her.
“Better her than fucking Ophelia, though.” The woman that clung to my side to the point of irritation still sent disgust slithering down my spine. Ophelia’s aspirations for life only went to the next, richer man she could bag. Over the years, she’d dropped hints that she wanted me to propose with no fucking basis at all.
I hadn’t even fucked her—not a single damn time. We’d dated for two months before one of her ex-boyfriends found out and warned me the fuck out of the impending disaster.
The only problem was that Ophelia’s grandfather was a business partner of my father’s.
Climbing easily into my clothes, I rolled my neck and shoulders roughly as my thoughts zigzagged all over the place. Tonight was my last night here; I’d be on a plane back to California tomorrow afternoon. Rolling my cuffs up to my elbows, I smoothed down the front of my button-down before grabbing my phone, wallet, and keys off the fairly comfortable mattress.
Tonight was my last night in this city, which meant that this was my last chance to do something about Hailey.
That glaring realization only caused doubt to clog my throat, and I left my hotel room on stiff legs to slam the door behind me.
What if she didn’t want to get fucked into oblivion?
The stain on my dress pants told me Hailey wanted me, but the rational side of my brain simply discarded it. She could’ve been turned on for any number of reasons; the atmosphere of that club was certainly sexually charged enough.
I could understand not wanting to risk her job by sleeping with a client, though. That was always rule number one on the ‘don’t fucking do these things’ list.
If she doesn’t show tonight again, I’ll just let it go.
My walk to the club was a blur, and I strode easily past all of the people waiting in line. Pushing beyond the door that led to the club, I automatically glanced around in search of Hailey’s familiar, strawberry blonde waves.
The Friday night crowd milled around, and I took a seat at the bar as my narrowed gaze flickered from person to person. Too many of the people around me weren’t even into the darker aspects of this club; they just liked the novelty of getting slapped, of using cuffs or having a reason to be a dick to their significant others.
“A beer for Batman—” High-pitched and still laced with annoyance, the bartender’s voice sent a twitch through my cheek even though I didn’t turn around. The hairs on my arms stood up before I tore my eyes off the scantily clad forms prowling the floor, and I sucked in a hard breath as I twisted to reach for my beer.
“She’s not down here, you know.” Glancing at the tall, string-bean body that sidled up into the bar stool next to me, I frowned with my bottle to my lips. “You scared the shit out of her—you know that, too, right?”
The guy didn’t even have to say a name, and I grunted in acknowledgment as I gulped down my cold brew. My mind worked slowly to decipher what he’d said, and he watched me through narrowed, dark brown eyes that sparkled in the low light reflecting off the glass wall behind the bar.
“Where is she, then?” I wasn’t a fucking idiot; this was quite li