Page 95 of One Night Only
It takes a good twenty minutes to finally ditch Logan, going out of my way to wingman for the guy because apparently he’s lost his touch when it comes to the ladies. Honestly, I’m disappointed because have I taught these men nothing? I ended up finding him a cute little brunette who apparently studies dance at Juilliard, and now they’re sitting together in an out of the way booth, talking quietly with one another.
On my way back through the crowded bar toward our VIP, I’m stopped suddenly when I feel a hand on my ass. I spin around with a knowing smirk, expecting to see Emily, but when I’m met with an unfamiliar brunette, I take a step back, glowering down at the woman because since when is it okay to go around grabbing peoples’ asses?
“Sorry!” She holds her hands up in the air with a playful giggle. “I thought you remembered me.”
My brows draw together. Sure, she looks familiar, but in my defense, I’ve slept with probably a good twenty-percent of all single, straight women aged twenty-two to thirty in this city, and they all start to look the same after a while.
“It’s me.” She points at herself. “Talia.” Her smile remains, but it starts to look a little strained the longer it takes me to register. “From Hoboken.”
“Oh, hey.” For the record, I don’t remember her. At all. But maybe if I pretend, she might finally give up and fuck off.
“I was hoping I’d see you again,” Talia says with a suggestive smile, stepping so close I can feel her tits press up against me. “I gave you my number but you never called.”
I clear my throat, looking around for what, I don’t even know. Where the fuck is Happy when you need him?
“So, what are you doing here tonight?” she asks, dragging her finger down my chest, my stomach. “I know you’re not usually up for a round two, but I’m here, you’re here, maybe we could leave here… together.” She bites down on her glossy bottom lip, arching a brow at me.
I take another step back. “Um, actually, I?—”
“Oh, sorry…”
My blood runs cold at the sound of the familiar voice of an angel coming from over my shoulder, and I spin around to see Emily standing right there, her expression void of any kind of emotion as she looks from me to Talia and back again.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
I open my mouth to say something, but before I can get a single word out, the ghost of hookups past interjects.
“Well, you did…” Talia mutters, and I’m about ready to tell her where she can fuck right off to, but again, before I can get my words out, Emily steps around us, her lips pressed together in the semblance of a tight smile that doesn’t meet her eyes as she continues in the direction of the bathrooms.
“So, anyway,” Talia prompts, stepping back up to me and placing her hand on my belt. “Where were we?”
As calmly as I can, I remove her hand and take a step back. “Sorry, I have a girlfriend.”
She snorts unattractively. “Agirlfriend?”
I nod without missing a beat.
She pops her hip, placing a hand on it. “But you said you don’tdogirlfriends.” She uses her fingers in an attempt to quote me. And I mean, it sounds like something the old me would’ve said, so I let it slide.
“Yeah, well—” I remove my hat to run a hand through my hair, replacing it again as I continue, “Things change.”
Talia guffaws, gawking at me incredulously. “Dallas Shaw… in love?”
I nod again.
“Aren’t you the guy that’s fucked, liked, over five-hundred women?”
“Yep.” I pop my p, because frankly, this chick is starting to piss me off.
She offers a derisive scoff, shaking her head, and without another word, she spins on her stiletto heels and walks off in a huff. I turn and hurry in the direction of the bathrooms, because I know exactly what that just looked like, and I need to look Emily in her eyes when I tell her it was nothing. Once upon a time it was something, but not anymore, and never again will it ever be anything.
CHAPTER 38
EMILY
It was nothing. He was just talking. He’s allowed to talk to people. He’s a professional athlete. It’s part of his job. It was nothing. Just… PR.
As I pace the length of the bathroom, I try to convince myself that what I saw was nothing. But as I close my eyes, all I can see is Dallas looking down at the beautiful woman, her finger trailing over his chest, her perfect breasts pushed out, and my self-doubt rears her disheveled head.
