Page 8 of Fall For Me
As if today isn’t screwing me over enough already, she’s sending me to the one place that was mine and Sean’s spot. Not that she knows that and not as if he and I ever ate inside like a normal couple. We had to get creative with our dates so my dad wouldn’t find out about us.
“Anything. I’m starving,” she responds, offering me a sweet smile as she leaves to go back to her office.
Thirty minutes later, I stroll out of the Burger Joint with mine and Aspen’s lunch, doing my best to hold it together. Peeking into the bag to make sure everything’s there, I find fries at the bottom.
Bag fries.
It’s the simplest thing that triggers a memory of the good times. I try to avoid it at all costs, and then . . . Bam! A song comes on the radio. I catch a whiff of a passerby, wearing the same cologne as him. I find one of his shirts in the back of my closet.
And then . . . there’s bag fries.
“Stop stealing my fries, Sean!”
“Bag fries are free game.” He winks, reaching into the bag and popping another crinkle fry into his mouth.
Snatching the paper sack away from him, I dump the rest of the fries onto the burger wrapper laying across my lap, then rest back against the door with my legs crossed under me. “Now they’re not bag fries anymore.”
I pluck one up and have it halfway to my mouth when he leans over and takes a bite.
“Mmm. Tastes so much better when you’re feeding them to me,” he teases, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips.
Leaning into the steering wheel, I rest my forehead against my crossed arms as tears silently fall down my cheeks and drip onto my lap. A staggering breath escapes my lungs, and I squeeze my eyes tight, pushing the memory of our impromptu picnic in his truck out of my mind.
I can’t do this anymore.
Carter’s right . . . It’s time to move on.
Three
Hannah
I’m not the type of girl who shows up all willy-nilly to a sex club. Hell, I’m not even the type of girl who has a one-night stand. Yet here I am, checking another one of my I-would-nevers off my list.
“You got this,” I breathe to myself, and step out of the Uber on wobbly high heels.
All I need to do is go in there, seduce a willing participant, and make sure his hands don’t roam where I don’t want them to. Taking a tiny bottle out of my purse, I unscrew the lid and toss back the liquor. Liquid courage burns its way down my throat as I twist the cap back on, toss the little plastic bottle back into my purse with the other five empty ones, and prance through the black door with a new level of confidence.
The dim entrance is bathed in purple accent lights, and a metal sign with the word Elixir—lit in matching purple—hangs on the wall behind a sleek black desk.
I stumble my way to the desk and greet the gorgeous blonde sitting behind it. A short, sexy leather dress, similar to mine, showsoff her massive boobs. I have to admit; I’m a tad bit envious of her . . . assets.
“Hi. I’m Hannah.”
Casting a glance around to make sure no one’s listening, I lean towards her and whisper, “I’m here to screw.”
She lifts one brow, and I try to raise one back, but I think I’m wiggling both instead. I keep trying but . . .
Oh, to hell with it.
“Membership card,” she finally says, holding out her hand.
Confused, I tilt my head. “You need a membership card to get into this place? Like a Sam’s or Costco card or something?” I ask, sifting through my empty bottles to get to my wallet. “Geez. Nobody ever mentioned that.”
So many damn bottles.
One by one, I line them up on her desk so they’re out of my way. “How much is that? Forty dollars?” I ask, pulling out my wallet.
“One hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
