Page 52 of Give You Up

“How so? Is it the number of girls I’ve been with? Or my temper?”

“Both.”

“What you see is what you get, Syn.”

“Are you sorry that you slept with all those girls? Sorry that you broke that guy’s arms and legs for hitting on your PA?”

Damn, she is going in for the kill.

“Do you want me to say I am? The thing is, I’m not. Being with them taught me a valuable lesson. Where there are no feelings, there’s no intimacy. I’m tired of waking up next to a girl I cannot for the life of me remember her name. Or going through my day feeling like shit for treating a girl so carelessly. Or feeling empty inside for having another meaningless fuck. Is that what you wanted to hear, Syn? To know that what I did eats me up inside day in and day out?”

I move off the bed and extend my hand to her.

“Let’s go make progress together, babe. Let’s go catch us a mother-effing douchebag.”

19

Syn

We take separate cars to the nightclub.

On the short drive over, I think through what Taron said. He’s not sorry for sleeping with all those women, but he does regret treating them the way he did, and that gives me hope. There doesn’t need to be a big-time reforming of the bad boy. He’s already doing so on his own, starting with acknowledging his feelings.

Taron feels empty after his hookups. Wants intimacy with the next girl he sleeps with. Is tired of going from one sex partner to the next.

We are similar after all. He is not a god. He’s mortal. Is craving a deeper connection with another person. Is done with casual sex and is looking for something more meaningful.

Whether this “more” lasts or not, I couldn’t give a care. What would matter most is that Taron and I give “us” a try again. That we are progressing from exes to friends to something more than we have ever been—lovers.

The Uber driver drives past the nightclub, and I tell him to park in the alley in the back.

When we drove by the front of Crimson Nightclub, I saw Taron in the middle of a swarm of women our age with a shit-eating grin on his face. If I were a man, I would have the same expression. The women are beautiful, long-legged, have glorious long hair and big breasts. The coeds are wearing itty bitty dresses that leave little to the imagination.

I’m not a fan of plunging necklines, a dress that will leave my ass bare should I bend over, or going out in public not wearing a bra or panties, but to catch a guy’s attention surrounded by throngs of beautiful women, I have to go to extremes.

The only part I am not showing is the snake and butterfly tattoo on my right arm. We’re at the back entrance, and after paying the driver, I get out of the car. At the door, I push the buzzer. Dom is expecting me, Midnight having called ahead.

The door swings open. The bald, tatted, and muscular bouncer on the other side gestures for me to follow him inside and up the steps that leads to Dom’s office. I’ve been here before with Midnight and Dare. Riley opted to stay in Dumas. One of the old people she likes spending time with was sick that weekend, and Riley stayed with him to make sure he didn’t get worse.

At the top of the stairs, the bouncer raps his knuckles on the door.

“Bring her in,” a man says from the other side of the door.

Dom’s voice is deep and authoritative. The bouncer turns the doorknob and waves me through. I walk across the carpeted floor and lower into the chair across from Dom. Dominic Costello is handsome. He reminds me of a younger Antonio Banderas. No wonder the women are crazy for him.

“How are you, Syn?”

“Good.”

“You look good, sweetheart.”

Said with a sexy accent. I smile. This man is too sexy for his own good.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Sir?” He laughs. “I’m not that much older than you, beautiful.”

“You are such a liar. Midnight said you’re closer to your forties.”

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