I walk slowly toward Carly. She doesn’t run off, so that’s a good sign. My fingers are still wet from her pussy, but I’m well aware that the fun’s over. “Hey. You okay?”
She nods, trying to look everywhere but at me. “Fine. I’m getting out of here.”
“Okay. I’ll take you home.”
She shakes her head. “No. Lexie’s the designated driver. She’ll take me.”
“She’s still outside,” I explain.
Carly inhales a deep breath. “I just wish…”
“What? What do you wish, Carly?”
“That things were different.” She chews on her lower lip. “I should have never come back to Bayfield. It made sense at the time, but I should have gone somewhere new, where I could reinvent myself. Where no one knows…”
My fingers itch. They itch to reach toward her, stroke her soft cheek. To wipe away the remnants of her tears. To caress her swollen lips, the fine curves of her neck. To continue where we were interrupted and see her let go.
To give her what she clearly wants.
But I force them to stay still.
“Where no one knows what?” I ask.
She drops her jaw. “They didn’t tell you?” She lets out a soft huff. “I guess I should have known. Otherwise you’d be running in the other direction.”
I frown. How bad could it be? “I wouldn’t do that.”
“Oh, you will. But you know what, Austin?” She glances around the bar. “I’ve already managed to clear out this place, and on ladies’ night too. They aren’t going to want me coming back here anytime soon. I don’t really feel like talking about it. Especially to you.” She whisks past me and out the door.
I move to follow her, but someone grabs my shoulder.
I turn.
Miles stands behind me.
“Where the hell have you been?” I ask.
“I was trying to have a quickie with a hot little redhead, but it got cut short when your girlfriend there—”
“Not my girlfriend.” Damn. Why does it feel so wrong to say that?
He shrugs. “Whatever. She came into the bathroom crying, and it kind of spoiled the mood. So Robin and I left as discreetly as we could.”
“A quickie in the ladies’ room? Really?” I shouldn’t be too bitter since I was just fingering Carly and getting her to come.
“All in fun. She was game. I think she’s got a bit of an exhibitionist streak.”
The corner of his mouth tips up and I can’t help but wonder if he does too. Not that I give a shit.
“Sorry you got interrupted.”
“Not a problem. She talked too much anyway.” Miles sighs. “And speaking of talking, she told me a few things, brother. A few things you should know.”
Miles doesn’t have the same issue as Lexie does with gossip and gives me a fucking earful.
Two years ago, news broke that Manhattan billionaire Derek Wolfe had been murdered, and soon after, dozens of presumed dead young women were rescued from a private island in the South Pacific.
I paid little attention to the story at the time. Not because it wasn’t totally fucked up, but because Mom had just been diagnosed with MS and our health insurer was giving us grief. It was a heartbreaking tale, but I didn’t stop to think about it. Instead, I started working twice the hours since Mom could no longer fly with multiple sclerosis. I had more important things on my mind than a billionaire’s murder and a bunch of young women I didn’t know.