Page 38 of Heart Sick Hate

Lifting her glass, she holds it up between us and waves her finger in my face. “Like some sad puppy without a home. It’s not becoming, and it’s not you, girl. You’re Echo fucking Slater. Badass tattoo artist who doesn’t take shit from anyone. Especially stupid ass boyfriends. So start drinking and stop thinking.”

The devious smirk that climbs her cheeks draws one on my own. Her vision of me is contagious when I could use a little confidence.

“Fine.” I lift the shot glass. “To badass bitches.”

“Cheers.” Maren taps her glass with mine, and we both down our shots.

It’s something sweet with an edge that goes straight to my head.

Setting the glass on the bar top, I let myself soak in everything Maren said. She’s right. I’ve been letting the Kingsley brothers get in my head, and they aren’t worth the time or trouble.

Rhett’s doing what he wants, so I’m allowed to do the same. He encouraged it even. Guilt is for people doing something wrong, but I’m not sure that’s even possible in our arrangement. And Crew might be trying to tease me with the fact that I came to him, but he’s right. I did. And he can suffer knowing I’m not going to go there again.

The bartender slides us two more shots, and I down the next one. Smooth as water as my tongue is already soaking in vodka from the first one.

“There she is.” Maren smiles as she pushes all the empty glasses in the bartender’s direction.

“I’m done wallowing.” I nod sharply. “Let’s fucking dance.”

“Finally.” She hops off her barstool and tugs me to the dance floor.

By my fifth drink, I’m no longer thinking about anything. The shop, my commitments, my relationship. Nothing matters except how my body floats with the beat of the music. The hum of the bass vibrating inside me.

It’s still early in the day, so the dance floor is nearly empty except for me and Maren, but I don’t mind it. I don’t mind anything as I get lost in the strobing lights flashing.

“What’s that buzzing?” Maren sways to the music.

Like watercolor paint spilling across canvas as her body swishes and puddles with my vision.

“Buzzing?”

Everything is buzzing. Or shaking. Or humming. The room curls around me like a warm blanket as the alcohol takes hold.

Or maybe it’s the weed I smoked in the bathroom a half hour ago. Doesn’t matter. Nothing does anymore.

“Yeah, buzzing.” Maren’s eyes skim my body. “Is it your phone?”

The vibrations in my back pocket intensify with her question, and I realize it is my phone. Pulling it out, I roll my eyes at the name on the screen.

I can count on one hand the number of times Crew Kingsley has called me in the eight years I’ve known him, and it’s only ever been when Rhett can’t get a hold of me.

“What?” I have to yell because the music is too loud, and I can barely hear myself think.

“Where are you?”

At least, I’m pretty sure that’s what he asks.

“Fusion.” I laugh, not sure why he’s asking when Rhett knows where I am.

The music kicks up with a change in the song, and his response is drowned out.

“What?”

I look down at my phone and see he ended the call.

Asshole.

But just before I tuck my phone back in my pocket, his name flashes on the screen with a text message.

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