“I’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about.”
“I’m fine. I’ll ask Chloe or Mrs. Carter if they can check in on you later.”
“Oh, hush now.” She waved me off. “Go. Just promise me you’ll make it home in one piece.”
“Always.” I dropped a kiss on her head and got the hell out of there.
* * *
“Maybe you’ve had enough,” Kye said, eyeing the bottle of vodka in my hands.
“Nah. I can still see that asshole touching her.”
“Why don’t you just call her. I’m sure—”
“Not going to happen. She made her bed, she can fucking lie in it.”
“I don’t want to be the one to point this out, but weren’t you the one who broke things off?”
“We didn’t have a thing,” I spat, taking another long pull of vodka, letting the bitter taste dull all the other emotions coursing through me. “We had… nothing. We had nothing.”
Because I was nothing.
“Jesus, you’re a mess.” Footsteps crunched somewhere in the distance and Kye sat up. “Hello?”
“I come in peace.” Nate stepped into the sliver of moonlight.
“Miller, get your ass over here.”
“You invited him?” I asked Kye.
“Figured he deserved it after saving your ass.”
“Yeah, I guess you have a point. Take a seat, Miller. We’re drinking away our shitty existences.”
“That’s something I can always get on board with. But I thought since D’Angelo is off your back, things would—”
“Celeste has a new guy.”
“She does?” His brows went up. “That doesn’t sound like Celeste.”
“What do you know of it?” I growled.
“Easy. I’m just saying, I think you’ve got your wires crossed.”
“I saw it with my own eyes. The fucker was all over her.”
Anger welled inside me again, but it was chased by something else. Something I still didn’t want to acknowledge, even now.
“Apparently he’s taking her to Winter Formal,” Kye added.
“You’re sure?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I murmured, sinking further into my chair. The vodka had taken the edge off, but it wasn’t enough.
Only one thing could quiet the roaring in my head, and I’d lost her.
I’d ruined her, pushing her straight into the arms of some rich, pretentious douchebag.