Page 41 of Due Process
My eyes narrowed as Cannon skirted behind her to whisper in her ear. Daisy’s cheeks immediately flushed as she nodded in agreement.
His eyes sparked with lust, then he caught her hand to lead her away.
Daisy winked as she passed, slotting my phone back in my pocket. “Won’t be long.”
I rolled my eyes. “Use protection.”
“Yes, Mum.”
She disappeared down the back corridor with the man she’d been teasing all night. It wasn’t a surprise; their end was inevitable, purely based on the obnoxious flirting and outrageous sex talk.
Although it made me want to puke, I was happy for my friend. She was hurting from her douchebag of a husband—who I never liked—and if she wanted to get her rocks off with a stranger, then all power to her.
If only I could do the same—jump in bed with a sexy man and let go of my inhibitions. Alas, Felix hadn’t just obliterated my trust in men. He had also swung an axe straight through my self-esteem.
The adrenalin high I’d been riding the past couple of months had abruptly worn off, leaving toxic waste behind. It was hard to pinpoint, a slow pollutant of my confidence, making me feel undesirable and entirely unwanted… How could I not? My husband, who I thought would never waver, didn’t just step out on me, butobliteratedmy soul.
How do I get myself out of this drought?I was near dying of thirst—desperate for affection, for attention, for the warmth of a body that solely wanted mine in return. But if my own husband couldn’t give me that, who would?
Suddenly, soft brown eyes flashed in my mind, accompanied by a familiar, charming smile. That facial expression had remained the same since our childhood, particularly when Curtis was being mischievous or teasing. Except now his lips were surrounded by crinkled smiling lines I wanted to trace.
I was brought out of my drunken musings by my buzzing phone. I tried to concentrate on the device as the room spun around me, the home screen flashing a text from Curtis, as if I’d conjured him into existence.
“You okay, baby?”
Electricity ignited my nerve endings from the innocent title.Why did he start calling me that? And why do I like it so much?
Another text came through.
“Bikers? When are you coming home?”
Huh?It seemed like he was responding to a previous conversation. Except I hadn’t talked to him since I had left Dad’s earlier, the boys consumed by their pizza and action movie.
That was when my idled brain caught up…Daisy.
As I swiped open the message thread, dread—and dare I sayexcitement—took over.
My so-called girl best friend had sent a series of texts from “me” each one worse than the last.
“I miss you when you’re not with me.”
“I dream about you.”
“These bikers might be hot. But they have nothing on you.”
Sure, all those statements were true. But I had told her that in confidence, not so she could use it against me.
Daisy is so dead!
My phone started ringing. Shit.Shit. He’s calling. Act cool, act sober.
“Ahem. Hello?”
All I could hear was muffled gibberish due to the heavy base resonating from the sound system.
“Hold on,” I said before I turned the corner and pressed myself into a secluded alcove, the sheltered walls giving some reprieve from the noise.
“Hello? Can you hear me?”
