Page 63 of Her Ruin

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “It’s not what you think.”

“Then what is it?” she challenged. “Because all I’m hearing is that you asked to get us into the most exclusive club in town.”

I sighed, already knowing this was a battle I wasn’t going to win. I could fight Sienna on a lot of things. But what was I going to say? He was messing with her just to get to me? That sounded conceited, and even if I laid it all out for her, there would be no changing her mind.

And the worst part? She was right. Elixir was the place to be. Exclusive, high-profile, and impossible to get into unless you knew someone.

And I? I knew someone. I hated that fact, resented it, but ignoring it didn’t change the reality.

Weighing my options, I ran my tongue over my teeth.

On one hand, walking into Elixir willingly was exactly what Zayn wanted—and the last thing I wanted to do was give him the satisfaction.

On the other… If I didn’t go? I’d be letting him win. I clenched my jaw. Screw that.

If Zayn wanted to play games, fine.

I’d play.

But I’d play onmyterms.

I turned my attention back to Sienna. “Fine. But we’re only going for a few drinks. That’s it.”

Sienna laughed. “Oh, we’re going for way more than one. I love you so much for this. I know how hard it must have been for you to pull this off. I’ll speak to you later. I need to find something slutty to wear.”

“You’re engaged!” I yelled, but she’d already hung up on me.

With a groan, I put the phone in my pocket. I had spent all week trying to put that place and that man out of my mind. And now?

Now I was willingly walking straight back into his territory, back into his game.

And somehow, I knew…Zayn was already waiting for me.

CHAPTER17

ISLA

Getting dressed should not bethis difficult.

The whole scene of my bedroom should be photographed with the tagline “The Art of Not Looking Like I Tried Too Hard.” Glaring at the three different pairs of heels I had strewn across the floor, I contemplated wearing sneakers. That would show him I hadn’t tried.

Knowing the pretentious jerk like I did, he’d probably take it as a compliment that I purposefully dressed down for him.

“Ugh!” I screamed out my frustration into the emptiness of my bedroom. “I amnotdressing for him!”

And I wasn’t.

Catching sight of myself in the mirror, I glared at myself. “I amnotdressing for him!”

This was a night out with Sienna and her friends, who she could get hold of on such short notice because this was an overdue girls’ night, a fun distraction. It had nothing to do with Zayn. Or his club. Or Zayn…

Nothing at all. I told myself that at four o’clock. I reminded myself of that at five thirty when I came out of my shower. At six ten, I ate my chicken salad happily, not one thought about the dastardly demon that owned the hottest club in town. At six forty-five, I was talking to myself in the mirror about why every item of clothing I owned was shockingly inadequate.

As I stood in front of my closest, arms crossed, I was already annoyed with myself. What the hell was I even doing? Was I really overthinking a damn outfit like some lovesick teenager?

Absolutely not.

The only “sick” I got near Zayn was physically sick. I squinted as I considered it. Was that a good insult? I took another gulp of wine—not for Dutch courage, no, it was the drink of a sophisticated single woman enjoying a fine wine before she met with friends.

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