Page 58 of Daddy's Princess

22

Sugar

The night goessomething like this. Taco. Tequila. Taco. Taco. Tequila. Giggle-snort at Candace and Jen arguing over which Hemsworth is the cutest. Taco. More tequila. I’m on my fourth margarita and feeling zero pain. My filter is broken. My last fuck given.

“Everyone knows that Chris is the superior Hemsworth,” I say with a bit of a slur. “Him and his big hammer.”

Jen sighs, “I bet he has a pretty hammer.”

We dissolve into a fit of giggles at that. Candace was right to drag me out of the apartment. I needed this. Alcohol and laughter. Oh, and tacos. Tacos make everything better. My phone finally stopped ringing a couple hours ago. No more text messages, either. I don’t know if I’m happy about that or not. I mean, on the one hand it means that I don’t have to actively ignore Oliver anymore. On the other hand, it means he’s given up. I’m not sure I want him to give up.

In fact, I know I don’t want him to give up. Some stupid part of me wants this whole thing to be a misunderstanding. I don’t want to believe what I saw. Even though the image of Britney’s big fake boobs pressed against Oliver while her garish red lips were all over the same lips that kissed me so tenderly and sweetly just a few hours before is burned into my retinas. I still want it to not be true.

As if my thoughts conjured him, my phone rings from the tabletop. Before I can hit ignore, the phone is swiped up, and Candace is answering.

“Mister Cheater Cheater Pumpkin Eater, this number is no longer accepting calls from yoooouuuu.”

I make a grab for the phone but nearly fall out of my chair in a tequila and taco flavored lump. Candace gives me a hard look, and I give up the fight.

“Ooo… he’s pulling out his big bad dom voice,” she says.

I giggle at that because I can only imagine how frustrated he is with being denied. Definitely a dom voice moment. He says something that I can’t hear but makes Candace make a horrifyingly loud buzzer noise, drawing the attention of basically everyone in the restaurant.

“Wrong answer. This is Gandalf, and cheaters shall not pass!” We all giggle at her horrible impression of the best wizard to ever wiz. “Assumed? Ha! She saw you kissing that bitch, you big jerk.”

Candace is quiet for a moment while she listens to something Oliver says. Her eyes grow wide, and her jaw drops open. “Love?”

I make another grab for the phone. Ready to give Oliver a piece of my mind. “You’re not allowed to kiss other women and then throw around the ‘L’ word like its confetti.”

Of course, then his voice melts over my senses, and before I know it, I’m telling him where I am and chewing my nails in nervous anticipation for him to come for me.

“So, what did he say?” Jen asks.

“He wants to talk in person.” It takes a few seconds for that to sink through the tequila to my working brain cells. I pick up the napkin dispenser and look at my wonky reflection in the shiny surface. “Oh God, I look like a hot mess.”

“Come on, girl, we will get you fixed right up.” Candace and Jen drag me off to the bathroom and apparently an emergency public restroom makeover.

When they are done with me, I look halfway presentable. It’s amazing what a little makeup and a hairbrush can do for a girl. I mean, I’m still wearing leggings and one of my brother’s old sweatshirts from college that is about three sizes too big, but at least now I look like a semi-put together hot mess.

I’m sipping on a glass of water when Candace nudges me and tilts her head toward the entrance. I thought I did a good job preparing myself for seeing Oliver, but I did not. The second I lay eyes on him, my heart starts racing, and it feels like every cell in my body is being pulled toward him by a magnetic force.

His eyes unerringly find me in the crowd. His gaze doesn’t leave me for a moment. With every step, he takes me in. There is both hunger and worry in those green eyes of his that makes my heart ache and my body heat. The juxtaposition of emotions swirling inside me is a confusing mix of sadness, happiness, lust, fear, and everything in between.

As soon as he’s within reach, he pulls me off the chair and straight into his arms. I melt into his embrace, soaking in his strength for a brief moment before I remind myself, I’m angry at him. He feels the shift in my thoughts and releases me, though I can feel his reluctance to do so.

“You’ve been drinking.” Oliver’s disapproval is clear.

If I had hackles, they would be standing straight up right about now. “Yes, I have been. Not that it’s any of your business.”

Oliver holds his hands out in a peace-making gesture. “I didn’t mean that in a judgmental way, ba—Sugar. I just want you to be safe. Can we go somewhere and talk?”

My heart aches when he stops himself from calling me babygirl. The stupid organ wants to be his babygirl so badly. Right now, I need a good session over daddy’s knee and a snuggle. What’s a girl to do when the person she would normally go to to make things better is the one who caused the hurt in the first place?

How is it possible that in such a short time, I’ve grown so attached to Oliver? Is it just because my little side has been without satisfaction for so long? Or is it Oliver? Either way, my little side needs to get on board the mad-at-Oliver train. Even if I do forgive him, we can’t be together.

I just can’t go through this kind of thing again. It hurts too much to have someone I trust break my heart. If I let myself fall even deeper with Oliver, I’ll never survive it. It’s better to put an end to it now before it’s too late.

“You can drive me home, and we can talk on the way.”

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