Page 91 of Bargain with the Bachelor
She and Harry McAllen and the rest of their elite society crowd were welcome to stay and party all night if they wanted.
It was no longer my business, and in two days this would no longer be my home.
I’d be on my own—just like I wanted it.
Just like my father.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cold Turkey
Hunter
Staggering downstairs the next morning, I went directly to the kitchen and searched for the ingredients of the hangover cure recipe I’d just looked up on my phone.
“Hey, Doc. Want me to get you something? Make you some toast and coffee?” Aidan’s sympathetic voice offered.
“I don’t need any help,” I grunted.
Iwas the caretaker of the house. I didn’t need anyone to take care of me. I didn’t need anything from anyone.
“Okay, boss. Those bloodshot eyeballs beg to differ though.” At my baleful glare, Aidan raised both hands to the sides, yielding. “I’ll get out of your way.”
Once I’d made the drink—nasty tasting stuff—I left the kitchen as well, encountering a few stray members of the film crew packing up their equipment cases and chatting over pastries.
“Hey, Hunter,” one of the cameramen, Pete, said. “Didn’t see you around last night. I would’ve gotten a sound bite for the entertainment shows.”
I shook my head then groaned at the resulting pain, shuffling past the guy toward the stairs. “Let Hap do all the talking. It’s his show.”
Hap had certainly done a lot of talking last night. And I should probably have been a little nicer about it.
From my friend’s perspective, it probablydidlook like I was determined to disappear into a bottle. But Hap was wrong if he thought I was an alcoholic.
And he was wrong about me and Kristal being made for each other.
I hadn’t heard from her, but I assumed she was happy in her new life.
She was certainly better off there than she would be with me. I wasn’t worthy of her.
What my father had said to me that night at the jail was right—I was needy, always had been.
Kristal could have anyone, and she didn’t need someone like me dragging her down. I’d never be able to love her in a normal way.
I already needed her so much it was physically painful to be without her, and that was after only a few weeks of having her in my life.
What kind of voracious attention vacuum would I become after a few years with her? A few decades? I was probably better off without her too.
At least now I wouldn’t turn into a walking, talking black hole of need. I’d be self-sufficient and strong and—
“Hoo boy, get a load of these two.Somebodyenjoyed the party a littletoomuch.”
I turned at the audio technician’s raucous laughter. The tech stood in front of a tabletop monitor, wearing headphones and watching the screen with a couple of grips.
Gesturing to Aidan and me, he said, “Come here, come here. You guys have gotta see this.”
When I waved one hand in a dismissive way, Aidan pulled me along until both of us stood facing the screen. It showed a scene from last night’s party.
A man and woman, who most likely didn’t realize they were being filmed, were entangled with each other, enthusiastically making out in the meager shelter of a tall houseplant.
