It was hot, no doubt about that, but fuck. Now I’m literally walking around with his name on me like I do actually belong to him.
One thing’s for sure, though. He’s fucking deranged.
I reach down to pull my panties up before realizing my mistake. The jerk has fucking stolen them—and my knife.
I guess that’s only fair, seeing as I have his.
Rolling my eyes at his caveman tendencies, I walk over to the sink to wash my hands, my thigh stinging as I move, reminding me of what he’s done to me with every step I take.
I find my purse abandoned on the floor and pull out my lip gloss, attempting to fix myself so I look less like I just got fucked over by a baby member of the fucking mafia.
I soon give it up as a bad job. My lips might not be swollen from his kisses like I wanted, but my neck is littered with hickies and I’ve got red, angry scratch marks down my chest from my own knife.
Sucking in a breath, I prepare to walk back out there. Everyone will know exactly what went on in here only moments ago. Okay, probably not everything. I’d like to think the little brand on my thigh is between the two of us.
Just before I move from the sink, the door swings open and none other than fucking Teagan comes stumbling inside.
“Ew,” she says, turning her nose up the second she finds me standing in her way. “I didn’t realize this bathroom was full of trash.”
“Whatever,” I mutter, swiping my purse from the counter and throwing it over my shoulder. I don’t have the energy for another sparring match with this bitch. I’ve got someone else I want to piss off more. “Excuse me.” I storm past her, ensuring my shoulder collides with hers.
She yelps like a little bitch before I swing the door closed behind me, leaving her in the room that smells like the sex I just had with the guy she’s so desperate for.
I don’t see him immediately, but I sure as fuck feel his hate-filled stare from across the room.
Marching up to the counter where he stood not so long ago and forced himself into my mouth, I reach out for one of the bottles of vodka sitting there.
Interested stares from the rest of the room burn into my back as I line up a row of shot glasses and slosh vodka into each one.
“Okay,” a familiar soft voice says to my left, “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“No offence, Calli, but you can’t possibly understand why it’s completely necessary.”
Picking up the first glass, I throw it back, wincing as the alcohol hits my throat.
“Um…” Calli hesitates, not knowing what to do.
“Here.” I offer her one of my shots. She takes it, but she makes no move to drink it. “Gotta be honest, I’m surprised Nico hasn’t carried you out of here yet.”
She shrugs, tilting her head toward the corner of the room. “He got distracted.”
Glancing over, I find him dry humping a girl. A completely different one from the one who was blowing him when we first arrived. I guess it is his birthday, after all.
“Nice.”
“He’s a pig.”
“I hate to burst your bubble, Cal. Every guy down here is exactly the same.”
“I wouldn’t know,” she mutters sadly. “Most won’t even talk to me, let alone come anywhere near.”
“Well, after Nico punched that guy, I can hardly say I’m surprised.”
“He even scared that guy off from upstairs.” She sighs, looking emotional and exhausted.
“Maybe you should call it a night,” I suggest.
“Maybe. You wanna head up?”