A Love So Tragic (22 page)

“You are a pervert, Jen. Don’t worry.”

A few hours later and we’re all at the bar. Every few minutes my gaze drifts over Isaac's shoulder to the door. Some random girl has come up, flirting with Isaac right in front of my face, of course, I don't care. If he fucked her, we'd be even. Actually, I
want
him to fuck her.

Isaac's blue eyes skip over to me, and I smile. She leans in close to his face, batting her eyelashes, and I sip my vodka tonic. If he'd just take her in the bathroom and bend her over the sink....

“Shit, can she be any more on his dick?” Jen asks before chugging her martini. She glances at the door and her lips curl into a slutty smirk. “Huh, well, I’ll be fucking damned. He really came. He’s got the biggest balls of anyone I know.”

I look at the door and see Nic in a pair of ripped jeans and a white V-neck that hugs his chest.

“And let the games begin...” Jen bows her head, whipping her glass out to the side, spilling some of it onto the floor.

I want to smack her, but I'm too nervous because Nic is walking this way, and it suddenly got really hot. I glance at Isaac, then back at Nic, then back at Isaac.

Jen chokes on her drink and her eyes lock on the floor. “Holy-fucking-shit,” she whispers. “Has he always been
that
hot?” Her gaze directs up at Nic for a split-second before darting over to me. “And he's totally pulling out the seat next to Isaac. Fucking
balls
, I tell you...”

I stare at her, telling myself I should make eye contact with Isaac first, then look surprised and annoyed when I
notice
Nic is here. Swallowing, I feel sweat bead on my brow. I glance up, directly at Isaac. He doesn't even notice me because Ms. Fuck-Me-In-The-Bathroom is still engaging him in conversation.

“Would you mind if we took a picture?” she asks Isaac. “You're my little brother's favorite baseball player.”

“Sure,” Isaac agrees and stands to take the photo.

I can feel Nic's stare boring into me. Jen clears her throat. “Well,
Nic
. What a pleasant surprise to see you here.”

I elbow Jen and my gaze quickly swings over to Nic. He smirks and heat washes over me. I swallow. I fidget. I stare at Isaac because what the hell am I doing? 

“Nic, Fireball. Come on down here, man.” Aiden shouts from the end of the table. Isaac's head whips around.

The wooden legs of Nic's chair scratch against the floor as he stands. I want to look up at him, but I keep my eyes trained on the rim of my glass, pretending to wipe away a smudge.

“Whoa at the tension,” she whispers before grabbing onto my arm. “I gotta go to the bathroom, come on.” She drags me out of my chair.

“Hey,” Isaac raises his beer bottle and shakes it. “Get me another Blue Ribbon, would you, Peyton?” 

I nod as Jen yanks me away from the table.

“For the love of God,” she whispers. “Could you be any more awkward? Shit, Peyton.” We snake through the crowded bar area, past the hipsters with the thick beards and Buddy-Holly designer glasses, stopping behind the line of women waiting on the restroom. “You need to stop blushing, sweating, and,” she swats my hand away from my face, “and stop chewing on your nails.” She sighs before she glances over my shoulder at the table. “I mean, really? Remind me again why he is
here
because I know it’s not to see Aiden. That was an excuse. I mean, who the fuck comes down from New York for a birthday party at a shitty bar in Atlanta. He came here to fuck you and you can't go with him. What's the point? You want to get caught?”

I bite my lip. I think I do want to get caught. It would make it so much easier. I never thought it would be so hard to divorce someone you weren't actually in love with, but every time I've attempted to bring it up, I freeze. I panic. I'll tell Isaac we need to talk, he says okay then looks at me and I think about all he's done for me. He married me when he didn't have to. Anything I've wanted, he's given me...It's hard to abandon someone you don't hate. I feel like a coward.

“He really did want to hang out with Aiden...”

“Ah, okay. And you both thought it was a good idea to be in the same place as Isaac because the sexual tension isn't pouring off you in waves, huh?”

“Jen, just...”

I look over at the line for the men's room, and there stands Nic, leaned against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other, staring at his phone. His head remains bowed as his gaze lifts from the phone. My phone dings in my purse and a smirk falls over his face. I dig it out and read over the text:

I love the way your pussy tastes.

My cheeks warm. Jen leans over my shoulder. “Fuck my life. Really? Delete that shit.”

I press delete.

“You two are like horny teenagers.”

The line for the men's room moves quickly. When Nic comes out, our gazes lock. I watch each step he takes toward me, and when he stops in front of me, his eyes narrow. “You going to ignore me all night, mi amor?” 

The door to the lady’s room swings open. A drunk train-wreck of a girl stumbles out and right into Nic. He catches her and she giggles. “You're pretty,” she slurs, sweeping her hand over his cheek.

I roll my eyes and step into the bathroom. When I lock the door, I hear the handle jiggle, followed by Jen groaning. 

“Nic,” she says with a lilt. “What are you doing?”

“I mean...trying to get in the women's restroom.” The handle shakes again. “Obviously.”

“You can't do that, dumbass. Stop thinking with your dick. Isaac would slaughter you both.”

I strain to hear their conversation.

“I'm bigger than him,” Nic laughs.

“God, you are such a guy.”

I wash my hands, dry them, and then Jen bangs on the door. “Come on, Peyton.”

As soon as I open the door, she pushes me back inside, closes the door, and locks it. Shaking her head, she yanks her jeans down and hovers over the toilet seat. “I am not getting in the middle of this shit. You two are being idiots. He was going to come in here with you!”

“No...”

Her eyebrows arch as she snatches toilet paper from the wall. “Uh, yeah, he was.”

We finish in the bathroom, and on the way back to the table, I see Isaac standing at the bar.

“Shit. His beer,” I mumble, turning to the bar.

The second I walk up next to Isaac, he wraps his arm around my waist, pulls me in, and kisses my forehead like I'm a child. 

“Did I tell you how pretty you look tonight?” he asks.

“Thanks.” I smile.

“You want another drink?”

“No, I'm fine.”

The bartender sets a beer down and Isaac grabs it. His gaze drifts back over to the table as he leans against the edge of the bar.

“Hmm.” He places the bottle to his lips and stares. Following his gaze, I see Nic. “He's suddenly decided to start coming around more,” Isaac says with an edge of disdain.

What do I say here? Do I act like I've noticed? Do I act oblivious? Because I can already feel that uncomfortable heat creeping over my chest. What can I do that won’t give me away?

“Who?” My heart thumps in my temples.

“Nic.”

“Oh...”

“Hadn't noticed?”

I tell myself not to swallow. “No.”

Isaac shrugs, smiling as he traces his finger over my cheek. “Good,” he says as he cups my jaw, pressing his lips over mine.

My heart pounds, and not because Isaac is kissing me, but because he doesn't do affection in public. I know
exactly
what he's doing. When he pulls away, I see Nic staring at us. Isaac grabs my hand and leads me back to the table, his grip tightening when we pass by Nic.

An hour later, me and Jen are outside at a patio table watching a random drunk guy pee in the bushes. Jen claps her hands, applauding him for his disregard for public behavior. “Ah, now you’ve broken the seal,” she snickers.

“Hey!” A bouncer shouts. “Hey! You can’t do that out here!” The guy glances over his shoulder, shakes the last bit of urine out, and then takes off running to the back entrance.

Jen covers her mouth to keep from spitting her drink everywhere, and then someone places an eight-ball glass on the table in front of me.

“You look gorgeous, Peyton,” Nic says before dragging out the chair next to me.

“Thanks.” I know I just blushed, and that makes me feel childish.

“Dear God…” Jen groans. “Let’s not be discreet or anything.” 

“So,” Nic leans back in the chair and looks at Jen, “how you been, Jen?”

“Good.” Her gaze bounces back and forth between us before she points at the glass. “And... where's my drink, Nic. That's fucking rude seeing as how I'm going to hell for helping Peyton get away with this shit.”

He laughs. “What do you want?”

“Top shelf vodka.” She smiles. “On the rocks.”

Sighing, he stands and turns around. I watch him walk through the doorway, and I find Isaac standing in the middle of a group, completely distracted.

“Hey!” Jen gets my attention by whacking me on the back of the head. “You two need to cool it. Like stay away from each other.”

“Jen...”

“Nah-uh. The way you two look at each other is a dead giveaway. I've never seen two people fuck each other with their eyes more than the two of you do.”

My gaze strays to the door. “I'll be right back,” I tell Jen as I push the chair back.

“For the love of God! Don't listen to me or anything.” Her gaze swings over to Isaac. “I'll be sure to scream 'run' when I see him heading inside. Damn it, you really are sending me straight to fucking hell, P,” she says with a groan.

I snake through the crowded patio, shoving pass drunk after drunk as I make my way up the stairs. Glancing over my shoulder, I check to make sure Isaac is still preoccupied before I step inside.

The bar is jam-packed with frat guys and giggling girls, none of whom move as I attempt to force my way across the room. “Excuse me,” I say as shoulder through the tight group of people.

From here, I can see Nic at the bar. He folds his arms over the counter and orders a drink from the stumpy bartender. The girl standing next to him keeps staring at him, grinning.

I have this sudden fear that Isaac knows I’m following Nic. Standing on my tiptoes, I peer over the swarm of people, my gaze honing in on the doorway, but Isaac’s nowhere to be seen. It would take him a good ten minutes to get through this crowd, not to mention it would be nearly impossible for him to see me. I check the door one last time before I squeeze between Nic and the young girl still ogling him.

My pulse immediately accelerates, a dash of excitement buzzing through my veins. I hate to admit it, but there is a small thrill in all this. Then again, isn’t there always a thrill when there’s the chance of getting caught?

The muscles in Nic’s arm pop as he pushes away from the bar top. He doesn't look at me, but I feel his hand creep around my waist. His warm, long fingers slowly brush beneath the edge of my shirt, grazing my skin and causing chill bumps.

“I don't like him kissing you,” he whispers, his eyes still locked on the wall of illuminated liquor bottles in front of us.

His touch ventures farther under my shirt, sweeping across my side, and now
I’m
nervously staring straight ahead at the wall. I feel his hot breath touch the side of my neck. He’s so close to me. We shouldn’t be this close to one another.

“I like to forget you aren't really mine,” he says in my ear, and I pull away.

“Nic,” I start, turning to face him as I push his hand out from underneath my shirt.

“Do you know how damn hard it is to keep my hands off of you?” His gaze narrows, his eyes veering down to my lips. “Tan jodidamente hermosa.”

“Belvedere on the rocks,” the bartender says as he places a drink on the bar.

Nic grabs the glass. “I'm gonna take this to Jen. There's a VIP room upstairs. An
empty
room...and I really want to fucking touch you.”

And then, he walks off.

I watch him push through the crowd. I tell myself I am above fucking him in a bar, but even as I recite that over and over in my head, I find myself hurrying toward the stairs at the side of the room. My heart hammers harder with each step I climb in the dimly lit stairwell. The top is roped off with a small sign that reads: closed. Ignoring it, I hop over the chain and wait.

The noise from downstairs floats up to the small room. I hear people laughing. Bottles clinking. Guys shouting. And I panic. This is insane. My husband is downstairs in the middle of that ruckus, and here I am waiting in the dark for another man.
It’s not another man, it’s Nic.
Shaking my head, I grab onto the wall, then turn to go back downstairs. As soon as I set foot on the first step, Nic is right there. I can barely make out a flicker of a smile in the faint lights.

“Where you going, pretty girl?” he asks as he grabs me and pushes me through the dark room to the far corner. His mouth works down my neck and over my shoulder. “Fuck, I want you.”

“Nic, we're gonna get caught.”

“No, we won't.”

“We...” I trail off because he's already got my jeans unzipped. His fingers slip under the thin material of my thong, rubbing over my sensitive skin. “We're gonna get caught,” I repeat in a breathy whisper.