Page 31 of Without Regret

“But if you’re trying to find another way of telling me we’re only friends, I get it. Loud and clear.”

He didn’t look irritated, simply resigned.

“And if what Tom says is true, I have to say I’m not sure I’d want to be your type.”

It would be an arsehole remark if he hadn’t said it in the obvious hope I’d provide an explanation. It was written all over his face that he was waiting for one.

But I wouldn’t give it to him. “Believe me when I say you’re better off.”

With that, I stood up and made my way towards the bar where I ordered and took a shot, giving a flirtatious wink to the cute bartender who served. Then I was off to the main floor. I loved to dance and get lost in the music. It took mere minutes before I was surrounded by hot and sweaty bodies. Whenever I searched the room for Trevor, a habit I told myself was only out of courtesy to ensure he was okay, his gaze would be on me. His lips curved up in a smile that conveyed he knew exactly what I was up to. But he couldn’t be aware how far I’d take things to make sure I was safe from a nice guy like him.

Finally, I spotted my target. He was heavily tattooed on his forearms, and I hoped the rest of his lean, yet muscular build looked similar. He also had a barbell through his eyebrow which I found attractive. I always found piercings sexy. But tattoos were my absolute trigger. Nothing was better than seeing ink on a well-muscled body.

All it took was a look, the one I imagined said if you play your cards right, I’ll go home with you,for the tattooed stranger to be up on me. Bumping and grinding and grabbing my hips with a possession I normally enjoyed. But tonight, I was uneasy. When my eyes found Trevor’s, and I saw the way he was gripping his beer with a hint of anger in his expression, self-loathing washed over me. Too bad self-preservation told it to shut the fuck up and took over. Because preservation was my protector from the greatest threat: rejection. She was the one ensuring I would never set myself up for it again. And tattoo guy? He couldn’t hurt me.

“You wanna get out of here?” he shouted across the noise.

“Yes, but it’ll have to be your place.”

There was no way I could take him back to my hotel and chance us seeing Trevor there. I was aware of the risks of going back to a stranger’s place, but tonight I couldn’t care. I was too far down the rabbit hole, desperate to get back to normal and give Trevor the message loud and clear.

“No problem. Let’s go.”

He pulled me through the dance floor. I was careful not to make eye contact with Trevor else I have second thoughts.

But Trevor had other ideas and must’ve moved quickly. He intercepted us before we got to the front door.

“Hey, Emma. You okay?” There was a heavy dose of concern in his tone as his gaze flicked over to my would-be one-night stand.

“Fine. We’re getting out of here. Have a good night.”

I didn’t miss the way his jaw tightened or the disappointment in his eyes. “Be safe.” Once again, his gaze focused on the man beside me with the implied threat he’d better make sure I was. And then he walked off.

I’d never felt worse.

“Emma, huh? Are you Australian?” the guy asked. I didn’t bother to ask his name.

“Yeah. From Sydney,” I auto-responded, sadly realizing I didn’t care to correct him. Easier to perpetuate a lie. After all, the last thing I wanted was for him to learn anything about me. Wasn’t that the point of this exercise?

“My hotel is a few blocks away. You want a taxi or walk it?”

“Cab.” I answered, letting him take my hand and lead me outside. Once we climbed into the backseat of the cab, he wasted no time shoving his tongue down my throat, tasting like booze and cigarettes. I let him. I’d successfully pushed Trevor away, and my body would get the release it so desperately needed while I protected my heart at all costs. This was what I wanted.

But the only thing was: I didn’t.

So when the cab stopped in front of his hotel, and my companion slid out, I didn’t follow. “I’m sorry. I changed my mind.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Are you a cock tease? Do you get off making me pay for a taxi and leave the club to—?”

In my mind, I deserved everything he was hurling at me. But none of it was as horrible as the way I was feeling about myself. “I’ll pay for the cab. And I’m sorry.”

I shut the door and instructed the cab driver to proceed five more blocks to my hotel. I paid him in cash and added a generous tip. As if extra money would wash away my self-hatred about pushing away a decent guy like Trevor and taking such drastic measures to do so. While I took the lift up to my floor, I imagined him leaving with the blonde or any of a bevy of beauties who had been eye-fucking him all night.

The first thing I did when I entered my room was go and brush my teeth. Although I didn’t normally care if a man was a smoker, tonight I was completely repulsed by it. Or maybe the revulsion was simply a manifestation of how I felt about myself. I’d just rinsed my mouth when the knock came at the door.

When I peeked out the peephole and saw Trevor, my heart started beating double time. Before I could overthink it, I opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

“That’s my question for you. Your date—what was his name?”

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