The music is loud, bumping in my ears and Addison’s smile is bright as she looks at me. We dance and dance, our bodies moving to the rhythm of the music, dancing the rest of the world away. All the doubts and insecurities disappear if only for a little while.
I feel the couple shots we’d done pumping through my veins, fueling me. I let myself forget. Forgot my feelings. Not only about Weston, but about how my entire office hates me.
Maybe I just can’t believe that Weston Croix would want me. He’s so smooth and outgoing, while I’m a shy control freak.
That I could ever find happiness outside of an arranged marriage by my parents is a joke. I’d thought Frances was the love of my life until I realized he was only marrying me for the prominent position my father offered him in the firm. He never truly loved me, just the idea of me. It was my parent’s relationship all over again. One of power and control, the last thing I wanted.
I always thought my life was perfect. I had money, an excellent job, and I’d worked hard to be the best at what I did.So why does it feel like something is missing?
As much as the goal is to forget about the cause of my feelings tonight, he keeps creeping in. Sitting constantly in the back of my mind, asking me why, telling me I’m his. And maybe it’s the alcohol, but I feel it too.
His words seep into my bloodstream like cocaine, traveling up and down veins and arteries to the organ that can’t stop pumping harder every time we’re in the same room together. It’s why they call it a heart and not a brain. Because it’s not smart enough to know the difference between love and desire. And that’s why I’m here. To remind my heart that it’s not in charge. I am.
Muscular arms crowd me as hands touch my body, and I don’t turn to see who’s behind me, I let them touch me. Swaying my hips, I feel a toned body pressed up against my back. Hands drag up my sides, roaming over my skin. I care only about dancing the feelings away, pretending in my mind that I’m not falling for my coworker, that he won’t make me crash to the ground once I let myself believe it.
Adds makes her way toward me again, with more shots. I shoot back two more, never stopping my dancing. Hands still touch me from behind and I push away the thought they don’t feel right against me because they aren’t his.
His voice burns its way into my thoughts.Think of my hands when someone else is touching you.I can feel the sweat running down my back, but I refuse to stop. For once I feel free, so I dance, and it feels damn good. I’m free, out of control.
My body keeps swaying to the music, words starting to all sound the same. I can feel that I’m more drunk than sober.
I’ve had multiple shots and the effects are finally starting to hit me as I spin around to face the man who’s had his hands on me. I’m pleasantly surprised with the blonde hair, chiseled face, and dark brown eyes gazing back at me. He’s gorgeous, model perfect, but I have zero desire for him and the longer his hands stay on me the more wrong they feel. They aren’thisand that scares me. It scares the shit out of me. Reality is a bottle of ice water running through my veins, freezing me.
Someone tugs on my arm, and I turn to see my best friend. “Addison…” I whisper, slurring her name. A single tear slips down my face and I feel defeat. The fight I’d been having over my feelings is winning. I’m losing.
“Wynter, honey.” She pulls me away from the model man behind me and I’m thankful. I turn to smile at him, but he’s already in search of another warm body to touch, leaving behind coldness.
“I like him, Adds. Like,likehim.”
“I know, Wynter. Come on, let’s get you home. You’re drunk, sweets.”
“You had fair warning,” I slur, the words leaving my mouth sounding nothing like I mean them to, but I don’t care.
She takes out her phone, starting to text someone.
“Who are you texting?” I say, but it comes out more like who are yous testing.
“Reece. I will need help to get you home.”
“I don’t want to go to the hotel and spend the night alone. I don’t want to be alone, Adds. I can’t.” Tears are slowly falling down my cheeks, my emotions on a wild ride.
She drags me out into the chilly night and I breathe in the cool air like it has deprived me for too long. Holding me up, she flags down a cab and she helps me in. The door closes and I let my head rest against the cold of the window, my breath causing it to fog up. I feel her rubbing my back, but I can’t seem to care.
“Adds…”
“I know, Wyn…”
I don’t fall apart. I’m not that person. I have a pristine life. I’ve been walking a fine line and always sticking to it because it’s easier, safer. My heart was never on the line, but strangely that feels like a lie too.