Page 39 of Boarded Hearts

I peek over my shoulder and spot a group of girls on the dancefloor, the vast majority being tall, blonde, with legs for days. Stunning.

“Ah, shit.”

“W-what is it?” I ask Jon, slightly concerned.

“Amie,” he drawls but doesn’t add anything else.

“Who’s Amie?” Kate interjects, looking as confused as I feel.

“My ex.” Zach’s tone is harsh, bordering on angry. His eyes are still boring into the group of girls dancing and gyrating against each other.

“I’m gonna head to the bathroom,” I say to Jon. I need a reprieve from the tension that’s building around the table.

“Want me to come?” Kate asks.

“No, it’s fine, babe, but thanks.” I grab my bag, feeling a little squeeze from Jon’s hand around my waist as he lets me go, and I make my way to the bathroom.

Pushing through the door, the cooler air from the partially open window hits me. It feels nice and refreshing, a stark contrast to the sweltering heat radiating from the main bar area. I don’t need to use the bathroom; instead, I use it as an excuse to take a breather from the intensity. I decide to use the time productively though and reapply my lip gloss and blush.

I’m halfway through my refresh when the bathroom door flies open. A tall scantily clad blonde I half recognize from the dancefloor stands before me, a snide smirk pulling at her red pouty mouth.

“So, you’re flavor of the month then.”

I place the cap back on my lip gloss and turn to look at her properly, checking she’s definitely talking to me. I’ve never seen this woman before tonight, and she finds it necessary to speak to me like this.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh my god, you’re British too.” The last part she attempts to say in her best posh British accent, sounding more ridiculous than anything else.

“Yes, I’m British, and?” Seriously, who does this woman think she is?

“Well,” she scoffs, “you must be some sort of princess to nail down Jon Morgan.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, thanks,” I respond, my tone sounding unimpressed. “But I’m not nailing down anyone. I’m here with my friends.”

The girl’s eyes grow wider with frustration. “Oh, come on. We’ve all seen footage from tonight’s game. What did you do, get knocked up so he had to take you on? You’re hardly his type.” Her eyes trace over my body, a look of disdain on her face. “Jon goes for more…” she waves her hand in front of her, “glamorous women.”

I draw in a sharp breath, shaking my head in a pitiful manner at her pathetic display. “Look, whoever you?—”

“Amie,” she interjects curtly.

“Amie,” ah Amie, Zach’s ex—it's all making sense now. “Look, Amie, I’m way past my days of catty exchanges in dingy bar bathrooms, and I’m certainly way past caring what you or any of your friends might think of me. I’m here to enjoy a nice evening celebrating a Scorpions win. So please, if you wouldn’t mind.” I point to the door, indicating my wish to leave. She doesn’t move though, instead remaining in front of the bathroom door.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Amie throws out as she finally steps aside, letting me make my leave.

I turn back to her, halfway out the door. “Warn me of what?” I’m exasperated now, fed up with her games, and ready to get back to Jon and the group.

“Of Jon. He has a different woman in his bed every night, always has and always will.” She struts over to the mirrors, pulling out her scarlet lipstick and applying another coat.“No one ever keeps him for long.” She huffs out a laugh. “Just ask half the girls in this bar or Sarah and Bryony. They’re out with me tonight; I’m sure they can vouch for his ways.” She pauses, catching my eye in the reflection. “Sure, he’s a good time, but you don’t actually think he wants you for more than that, do you?” she mocks in a patronizing tone. “Aww, you did. Cute.”

I shake my head at her before turning to leave, letting the door slam behind me. Fucking bitch. Yeah, Zach is better off for being shot of her.

But as I make my way back to the private booth area, I can’t help but feel the weight of her words sink into my skin, taking residence in my consciousness. They can vouch for his ways.

Amie’s friends are still dancing when I take a seat, some guys having joined their gyrating session. I wonder who Sarah and Bryony are and whether they’ve slept with Jon or if it’s just mind games from Amie. Either way, my thirty-nine years tell me she screams trouble.

Today has been a long and trying day. I just want to go home and get away from the hordes of people. I need peace and quiet and the safety of my apartment.

“All okay?” Jon asks as the back of his hand brushes the top of my arm, setting off another wave of goosebumps across my skin.

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