Page 21 of Dirty Martini
The night suddenly comes rushing back to me. The club with Elton, taking Molly, getting into that huge fight with Rhys.
Rhys.
With another groan, I drop my face into my hands. Holy fuck, I’ve made everything worse. So much worse. When he had called me Ev, helping me and making sure I was okay, I thought that maybe he was warming up to me and actually concerned aboutmy wellbeing. He wouldn’t have pushed my sweaty hair away or rubbed my back if he didn’t at least care a little bit, would he?
But then something triggered him. No,Itriggered him. Me, high as fuck, caused him to lose his shit. I think in a way he’s been wanting to do this since last week, but he’d held himself back. Well, not last night. Not only do I now have confirmation that he hates me as much as I thought, but I also stoked the flame of that rage by egging him on. Instead of submitting, I fought back.
I’m such an idiot.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Knox says. Following me as I sit up, he wraps his arms around my waist. “Breathe.”
“This isn’t good,” I mumble as I wiggle out of his hold. “The shit I said to Rhys…”
“You were high as hell, babe,” he soothes, trying to comfort me, to no avail. “Nobody should’ve taken any shit you said seriously when you were like that.”
Nausea pools in my stomach as I shake my head. “You weren’t there.”
“Well, what happened?”
My mind snaps back to the moment last night, but I push it away, not wanting to relive even a second of it. “Fuck. Nothing.”
He hums thoughtfully, not believing me, before he sighs. “What are your plans for today? Want to grab some breakfast.”
“No, we’re taking Elton to the airport—” Then it hits me, and my eyes widen. “Shit. We need to get you out of here without them seeing.”
Something passes over his face, a glint in his eyes that disappears a second later as he nods and gets up. He reaches for his discarded pants on the floor, pulling them over his underwear. “I’m good at sneaking out undetected. Don’t worry about it.”
The tone of his voice is harsh in a way I haven’t heard in a long time. I open my mouth to apologize. “Shit, Knox. I didn’t mean it like that?—”
“It’s fine,” he snaps, pulling on his T-shirt. Rounding the bed, he grasps my elbow and leans in to press a kiss to my cheek. “Just text me, alright? Let me know how shit goes down and if you need a place to lay low for a couple of days.”
“Thanks,” I mutter. Heart beating rapidly, I watch him leave, praying that Rhys and Elton aren’t awake yet.
I give Knox a few minutes, pacing in my room like an anxious teenager, finally unable to hold out any longer after five minutes. Pulling on a pair of sweats, I leave my room, heading straight to the kitchen where Rhys and Elton are already dressed and drinking coffee. I look around and don’t spot Knox, completely impressed while also creeped out at how he managed to leave without being seen.
“Hey, bro,” Elton greets, eyes bright for someone who drank as well last night. He grabs a cup and starts pouring coffee. “Want a cup?”
“Sure…” I mumble distractedly, eyes still pinging on the walls to see if maybe Knox is pulling some movie shit and hiding behind the curtains. “Um, yeah.”
“You have a good night?” he asks, handing me the cup as he cocks his head to the side. “You okay?”
“Me? Oh, yeah. Totally fine.” I try my best to smile reassuringly, and I think he buys it.
“A really good night?” Rhys presses, acting like a complete asshole as he raises an eyebrow. “Tell us, Everest. Whatdidyou get up to last night?”
“Nothing,” I bite out, but then it hits me that he hasn’t told Elton what went down. He couldn’t have. Elton would be freaking the fuck out if he knew how high I got, and he’d be extra furious at knowing that Knox was with me. I calm down a littlebit, wondering what kind of game Rhys is playing, and turn to Elton. “You ready to go soon?”
He nods. “Definitely. Suitcases are already in the car. Just have to get my bag out of my room.”
As he walks past me, he squeezes my shoulder and disappears into the first-floor hallway where the master bedroom is, leaving just me, Rhys, and a fuck ton of awkward tension in the air. We stare at each other, eyes unbreaking as I take a sip from my coffee, trying to figure out what to say. “So, you didn’t say anything.”
He jerks his chin. “Nope.”
“Why?”
“It didn’t seem like any of my business.”
My breath hitches at that. After last night, I thought he might not be able to wait to tell my brother all about the shit I’m into. To paint me as the villain he believes I am. The fact that he hasn’t said anything… It could be for some ulterior motive, but I doubt that. Maybe?—
