Chapter 3

Olivia

Lying in my bed wearing nothing but a sports bra and panties, I cry. I can't believe this happened. I've been home a few days and still can't wrap my head around the fact that Barbi and Van did this to me. Barbi was supposed to be my best friend, but her text and video clarified that our friendship was one-sided.

Then there's Van. Fuck him. I thought we were forever. I was going to ask him to move in with me when I got back. He's been hinting at getting engaged; leaving ring catalogs around and asking about buying a house together. Then he goes and sleeps with Barbi?

Why even lead me on like that?

Just thinking about it has me fuming. I'm hurt, don't get me wrong, but I'm also pissed the hell off. Barbi's always been a flirty, touchy-feely girl, even in high school, but I let it go because her mom never paid her much attention. She barely associated with her dad. Hell, I've never met or even seen a picture of him. He moved and remarried a man and Barbi didn't approve of it. Apparently, having a bi-sexual dad is bad for her image. So I always just chalked up her behavior as attention-seeking.

Never did I think it would go this far, that she could be this cruel. This was the last fucking straw with her; she's gone too far. I swear if I see her anytime soon, I'm going to rip her apart. I've never been one to lay hands on someone else, but this was unforgivable. Nothing would make me happier than to slap her smug face.

My phone rings, snapping me out of my inner rage. Grabbing it off the comforter, I look at the caller ID. It's my girl, Bre. "Hello?"

"Hey, girl, you wanna go out tonight?" she asks and I can already hear her excitement.

"I don't know, Bre, you know this whole thing with Van and Barbi has me a mess. I'm not in the mood to go out," I tell her, looking in the mirror across the room.

I look like a fucking disaster.

"Yeah. Fuck that cunt and fuck Van, too. Let's go get drunk and dance the night away. Forget about them. They don't deserve you."

I laugh. Bre has never liked Barbi. I thought when I met her a few months ago, we'd be like the three Musketeers, but Bre and Barbi volleyed insults back and forth the entire night we tried to go out together. Since then, I've never been out with both of them together.

"Please. Please. Please," she begs, and I roll my eyes at how crazy she sounds.

"Okay, fine. Pick me up in an hour." She lets out a squeal and I hang up.

I roll out of bed and head to the bathroom. Time to get myself pretty so that if anyone I know sees me, they can tell Van I'm living my best life.

Stepping out onto the sidewalk to a waiting Bre has me covering my mouth in a giggle. She is fanning herself profusely, staring at me. "Fuck, baby, you are smoking tonight. Are you sure you don't swing my way?"

I'm wearing a black cropped corset covered in rhinestones and black leather short shorts with my hair up in two loose dragon braids. "I'm sure." Shaking my head, I smile at her antics. She always has a way of making me laugh.

"It's a tragedy, really," she gasps, walking around her car and getting into the driver's seat.

"It really is. You'd treat me right, wouldn't you, baby?" I give her a taste of her own medicine.

"I'd take you home and eat that kitty so good you'd wanna marry me." She sticks her tongue out, flicking it, and I throw my head back in laughter.

Fuck, if I don't love this girl. We met by chance at a book signing I was photographing not long ago and hit it off. She's a cover model and part-time smut author with no filter.

We pull up to Citrus, the new club in town, and get in line to enter. We chit-chat back and forth as we wait for our turn to pay the cover and get our IDs checked. "Twenty bucks," the bouncer says, holding out his hand and taking our cash. Handing our IDs over, he shines a flashlight on them, checking to make sure they're real.

Getting into the building, we head straight to the bar to order drinks. A woman with a purple pixie cut and septum piercing stands behind the bar, smiling. "What can I get ya, ladies?"

"Two Coronas with lime and can we get two shots of tequila?" Bre eyes her up and down with a smirk. Oh, for fuck's sake, she's already flirting with the bartender. The bartender tosses her a wink and sets off to get our drinks. Setting them on the bar top, she takes Bre's card to start a tab and we head to the dance floor.

E-Girls are Ruining my Life! by CORPSE and Savage Ga$p pumps through the speakers and the crowd loses it. We're shoved closer together, cackling as we collide and grind against one another, enjoying the night.

We stay like that for hours, only leaving the dance floor to get refills. It's where Bre is now. She's leaning against the bar, batting her lashes at the bartender as she orders. Such a Whore by JVLA plays and I can't wait for her. I love this song and want to dance.

My legs are slightly apart as I sway my hips back and forth, dropping one side every few seconds. I have my hands above my head as I dance, and I know I'm covered in a sheen of sweat. I'm lost in the moment when a strong pair of hands grabs me from behind. I gasp, but keep moving—this time grinding into whoever is holding me.

No clue who he is, but I know he's male by the smell of his musky cologne. A pang hits me thinking of Van, but I push it aside. I will not let one shitty guy control my night. Spinning to see my partner's face, I'm met with the sexiest older man I've ever seen.

Holy hell, or should I say holy silver fox? His hair is blond with silver sprinkled throughout and his beard is well-kept but graying as well. He's staring at me with piercing cerulean eyes I could get lost in, and heat pools at my center. At a loss for words, I give him my sexiest smile, wrap my arms around his neck, and continue dancing.