Page 10 of You're To Blame 2

“You are Tate Forrester’s girlfriend. You have to look like it. You can’t show up everywhere in jeans and a long sleeve blouse.”

“He doesn’t mind.”

Connie’s head snapped in my direction. “Wear your crown proud bitch. Now you are wearing the cutest dress tonight.”

I threw my hands in the air. “Fine.”

If I was truly dressing up for Tate, I wouldn’t have complained. But because I knew the person who would benefit made my skin crawl, he’d purposely keep his hands plastered all over my body. The night at Stephenshit my memory bank. Tate and I were all over each other. I felt like the universe was playing a cruel joke on me.

Pretending to be the perfect girlfriend to a sociopath every day was draining. Earlier, I soaked in a hot bath, remembering how Tate ignited my body with a simple touch. Not to mention, when we made love, I wished he was there holding me in his arms reassuring me we’d share our life together. Now our future hung in the balance. My boyfriend had been missing for over a week. I darted into the bathroom and hurled my guts out. Luckily, the girls didn’t know I slipped away. My old wounds tickled. Begged to be slit with a razor. Months ago, I would have given in to the urge. This situation would’ve definitely afforded my body two new cut marks.

I brushed my teeth, staring in the oversized mirror.No more.

I wouldn’t cut myself every time I was dealt a bad hand. Making Mason pay for kidnapping my boyfriend and ruining my life was my priority.

“Hang on, Tate,” I whispered.

CHAPTER FOUR

Connie drove us to the party. Surprisingly, Mason was ok with meeting me at Matt’s.

The Brauner residence was over the top, it dripped luxury. A grand marble, off-white staircase with silver banisters greeted us in the gray and white plush atrium. Loud music thudded the walls around us as we sauntered toward the kitchen. I hadn’t been in Matt’s house in years. It was always grand. The color scheme changed from stark white to gray. I glimpsed at the long keg line.

“Megan, do you see Matt? Maybe he can score a bottle of vodka for us.”

She scanned the room then her smile dropped. “Found him.”

I glanced over my shoulder.

“What’s up, ladies?”

“We’d like drinks, Matt.” I yelled over the busy chatter in the kitchen. There were a few make out sessionshappening around us. Matt didn’t bother shutting them down. He had his own agenda.

A gray T-shirt hugged his pecs. His hands were stuffed in his jeans pockets.

“Cabinet left of the stove.” He never took his eyes off Megan.

He stepped forward, gripping her waist. Matt leaned down and devoured her lips. They kissed like we didn’t exist.

“Chelsea, is it just me or is their kiss damn hot?”

I fanned myself. “Damn hot. Do we leave her?”

I cleared my throat. “Megan, we’ll be in the game room.”

Matt came up for air. “Enjoy the party. Megan and I have a playdate that’s long overdue.”

Megan’s flush face fell upon Matt’s broad chest. She grinned. I’d go out on a limb and say she was aw struck by man whore Matt. He whisked her away.

He said Megan broke his heart. I didn’t know how true that statement was.

Connie and I found the vodka and filled our cups. I darted over to the fridge, swung the door open, and scanned the abundance of beverages for juice.

“Connie, we are in business. Would you like cranberry juice mixed with your vodka?”

“Why, Chelsea I’d love some.”

Her short one shoulder bodycon dress she designed fit perfectly on her slender frame.

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