Page 84 of Love Undiscovered
But this woman, she needs nothing.
She's beautiful and she's his wife.
He's fucking married.
How could I be so stupid?
How did this not come up before? I swear Kat told me he was single. Maybe he's separated? Or divorced? Either way, he’s never mentioned it.
Not that it matters, because this is a bet. And right now, I love my pride more than I love my Louboutins. So, fuck this. I slap my hand on the bar for emphasis.
I feel Chance’s arm slide around me from behind and stiffen. “Shots without me, beautiful?” He nuzzles my neck, something that not five minutes ago would have made my knees buckle.
“Anything to drown out the ruckus of you singing,” I say.
He straightens and pulls away from me, laughing slightly. “Wow, was I that bad?”
He spins my stool around so I’m facing him. But I refuse to look him in the eye. He tries to tilt my chin up, so I avert my eyes, but he keeps moving his head around and crouching down until his gaze catches mine.
“Hey, what happened? Are you okay?”
“Fine.”
“Okay,” he says, drawing the word out slightly.
“Hello, darling.” My head shoots up when I hear her voice and the top of my head clips Chance in the chin.
“Ow, fuck,” he says. “What the hell Remi, that…”
I can tell the minute it sinks in that someone was talking to him, and when he realizes who was talking.
He looks slowly in her direction.
“Your hair is different,” Chance says after a minute.
“Aw, you noticed,” the wife says.
“Wait, what the fuck are you doing here?” He shakes his head slightly.
“Free country.” The wife shrugs her shoulders, looking nonchalant.
“Well, leave,” he says. “This is my thing, not yours.”
“Clearly this is many peoples’ thing, not just yours.” She gestures to the crowd.
Chance takes a deep breath and lets it back out slowly, muttering something I don’t understand. It must suck to get caught red-handed.
“Look,” Chance says. “We’re on a date, so if you don’t mind.” He makes a hand motion as if to say ‘scurry along.’
“Oh, don’t go on my account,” I say. “I was just leaving.”
“I thought you were on a date?” the wife asks with a smirk.
“We are,” Chance says at the same time I say, “Not anymore.” I hop off my stool and turn to leave. Chance grabs my upper arm to stop me. I turn back to him. “Let go of me.”
His grip lightens. “Remi, will you just listen for a second? It's not—”
“Let go,” I say again, my voice rising.
