Page 76 of Detention with Daddies

“Let me make this as clear as possible. Pay attention, Britney.”

She blinks those crystalline blue eyes at me.

“You are not entitled to me. You have no claims, and the petty shit you keep pulling will not change that. It makes youlook like a spoiled brat. And I want nothing to do with you as a person. So,please, stop pursuing me. It’s a no, and it will always be a no. Hear me?”

Shock and hurt quickly transform into self-righteous anger. “You, Nick Salazar, are going to regret that.”

If her spinning in place and stomping off didn’t garner most of the room’s attention, her screech accomplished it.

I lean back against the bar to finish my drink. Not acknowledging a single curious look sent my way. I merely watch her walk back to her friends and wait for them to plot my demise.

There’s not much they can do to me. But how long will it take for them to figure that out?

OLIVIA

My first stop is the bathroom because, let’s face it, I’ve had way too much bubbly, and I have to pee. Besides, it’s a safe place to order a ride and wait it out.

The car is pretty quick, and I only have to stand outside on the curb for a minute before I slide in and get whisked off to Shawna’s place. The driver must make some serious assumptions when he sees my dress and how the tears smear all of Shawna’s careful work across my face.

I’m crying, sure, but I’m not sobbing. How did I think that sleeping with three men—three men that work together mind you—wouldn’t get out? That they wouldn’t discover the truth?

Well, I did know, but I thought I had more control over it all than I did. Obviously.

But I’m also not wrong in my stance. Not a single one of them has asked me to be exclusive. Has asked me if I’m single. Has asked me if I’m sleeping with anyone else.

Fuck, for all I know, they could have a lineup of honies warming their beds. How am I supposed to know? We haven’t talked about it.

Yet, by the way they responded in that room, I have a feeling that I’m the only one for each of them. That makes me feel a little more like a slut than I’m comfortable with at the moment.

It’s not like I’m ashamed of my body or my sexuality or who I share myself with.

But I can’t put the blame wholly on them. Can I?

God, this is all too much. Overwhelming.

Hence the tears and smeared makeup and early night of running back to my best friend to help me with my soap opera life.

The moment I’m standing in front of Shawna’s, her door opens before I can knock and she tugs me into her apartment. Her arms around me, rocking me side to side in a familiar way. It’s accompanied all of my heartbreaks over the years.

I sink into her embrace and allow myself to wallow for only a few minutes before I extract myself from her comforting hug.

Shawna frowns and wipes away the mascara I’m sure is staining my cheeks now. “What happened? Dr. Wright’s ex didn’t show up and cause a scene, did she?”

That yanks a howling laugh out of me. It’s borderline hysterical, but I’m shaking my head. “No. No, nothingthatdramatic.”

Although what actually happened was dramatic enough to be sure. At least, for me. I’m sure it could have blown up way worse.

God, the hurt on Matteo’s face when he finally released me. He hasn’t done anything to deserve my dishonesty with him. Even if I’m right, and he did have that chance when we were still in his bed to give me the answers I needed.

How can I blame him though? It’s not like admitting your feelings is easy. And maybe it’s too soon with each of them to have that discussion.

But now? Now, we don’t have a choice. Or I have to make a choice, and that thought makes my chest hurt something fierce.

Shawna pulls me to her couch, and we fall into a familiar setup, bottle of wine open on the coffee table, a glass in each of our hands.

“Alright. Start from the beginning and tell me where it all went wrong.”

So, I do, and the moment we get to that private room, I can tell she knows why I’m in such tattered ruins.

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