How could you do this?
What were you thinking?
Somehow, I let myself into the house, but my composure deserted me after locking up, and I leaned back against the door, sliding down until my legs were sprawled in front of me. With a clatter, my keys fell to the floor, and I stared into the distance as Dina’s recriminations played in my head.
My stomach twisted with shame and nausea.
My head pounded.
The memory of Dina’s expression cut into me like tiny daggers.
She was right.
I hadn’t thought about her.
I hadn’t thought about anybody but myself.
Pulling my knees to my chest, I pressed my face to my legs and dragged in a breath, blew it out. “Get it together, Tina.”
My embarrassment felt permanently imprinted on me, but I forced myself to think past it because, as Dina pointed out, this was not about me.
I’d been stupid, selfish, and thoughtless.
Cringing at what I might find, I pulled my phone from my pocket and opened the messages I’d been ignoring.
Casual acquaintances had contacted me, ranging from the concerned to the crude. I made myself read every message before following the link to the website.
Seeing the headline, then the many pictures of Maximus and me dancing, was like a punch to the chest, but I absorbed it and forced myself to keep going.
I died a little inside when I saw the links to my profiles. Now it would forever link this to anything with my business.
“It’s my fault,” I said quietly, absorbing the blow and accepting it.
What had I expected to happen? I’d walked into The Black Star knowing what went on there. What made me think I could indulge in such a way and walk away unscathed?
“Only if you believe in fairy tales,” I mumbled.
One thing noticeably absent from my phone was a message from Maximus.
Had he seen?
Did he know?
How could he not?
The blog post had tagged him too. Both his personal and business accounts looped into the tawdry mess.
I spent the next half hour locking all my social media accounts, putting everything on private until I could figure out what to do.
I deleted over two dozen lewd private messages—including dick pics—from total strangers.
And still, there was no message from Maximus.
“Fine,” I muttered.
Not giving myself a chance to think, I wrote Maximus a text.
Have you seen the news online? About us at the club?