Page 45 of Follow the Rhythm
I took three deep breaths, clearing my head, before heading out myself.
Bea and I took full advantage of the minibar. At first, it was fun. I was pleasantly drunk, the kind that made me feel warm, happy, and at peace with the world. This stage wouldn’t last long, so I’d enjoy it while it lasted. Bea could be charming when she wanted, and she was on top form that night thanks to the comfortable room.
“We should be staying in rooms like this every night.” She sighed, wallowing in the middle of the king-sized bed next to me. “You know I’m accustomed to a certain level of luxury.”
I laughed. Bea’s family was filthy rich.
“I’m so sorry you have to slum it, but such is the life of a groupie.”
“Well, let’s make the most of it, then.” Bea rolled to the side of the bed, rummaging in her bag until she found a prescription bottle. She gave it a little shake. My heart sank.
“Where did you get that?”
Bea smiled wickedly. “I have my ways.”
I sighed and closed my eyes.
“Come on, you’re so boring,” Bea whined, climbing on top of me to straddle my hips. She was gorgeous, the epitome of British good breeding. “Let’s invite one of your rabid fans up; you know there’s a bunch of them down there waiting for you. We would make their dreams come true.”
She traced her hand along my chest. Bea loved bringing other people into our bed so they could watch us fuck. It was some kind of power play, and I was usually game. But that night, the thought was exhausting.
“Open up,” she said, holding what I figured was a benzo to my lips.
I sat up, and she fell to the side.
“I’ve told you, I’m not doing that shit anymore,” I said wearily, nodding at the pill in her hand.
“Fine.” Bea rolled her eyes and took it herself.
I rubbed my temples and downed another of the mini bottles of tequila. I was quickly leaving my pleasant buzz behind.
“Are you ever going to get over it?” Bea asked.
I looked at her. “He was my best friend.”
“Right. But it’s been over a year. And it’s not like takingoneis going to kill you. You should know that.”
Guilt and shame pooled in my stomach. But anger bubbled up too. I rolled off the bed and looked down at her.
“Does being so cruel make you feel better about yourself?” I asked.
Bea gave a sarcastic laugh. “No, I feel incredible about myself all the time, thanks.”
“That’s right. Daddy’s perfect little angel, who couldn’t finish university and can’t hold down a real job,” I said nastily.
Bea jumped up on her knees and got in my face. “Fuck you. At least I haven’t killed someone.”
Her coldly beautiful face was set in a sneer of pure venom. Hatred poured through me.
“Get out,” she said suddenly. “I can’t stand looking at you.”
“The feeling is mutual.” I grabbed my jacket, along with another two mini bottles, and stormed out into the hallway. The hotel had a bar; it was probably still open.
I unscrewed the bottles and drank from both at the same time.
“Hey. You need to head upstairs, man,” a voice said. “We’re closing.”
I picked my head up off my crossed arms. The bartender was looking at me, concerned.
