Emmy and Claire debate what we should do next, but I really have no agenda. I’m always the girl who goes with the flow.
We exit the club through a pair of private doors—exclusive access for Ace and his crew. I’m included in that. We stand in the back entrance to the club, a more private space to make a game plan. I slip off my four-inch Jimmy Choos, still amazed that they were on my feet tonight. I used to feel shabby when we went out, but Emmy and Claire have no qualms with sharing their closets with me.
Just as we decide to head to Hearts Royalle, the new club the guys own, Jack storms out of the back entrance.
His eyes are blazing, his head shaking. He’s pissed, and this usually calm and collected hottie is clearly trying to get the hell away from something.
Make that away from someone.
Ashley Fast is on his tail, screaming at him. “You can’t walk away from me, Jack. We’ve been building a life together.”
Jack turns on his heels, inches from Ashley’s face. “Whatever we’ve built, I’m tearing it down. We’re done.”
My eyebrows rise. Holy shit, this isn’t just one of their fights—goodness knows we’ve witnessed plenty. This is a break-up brawl. And this is the end of them.
I bite my lip, not even thinking about the fact that these two are through. All I can think about is the fact that seeing Jack all fired up gets my panties soaked.
I know I’ve been crushing hard, but now I’m just horny as hell.
Chapter Three
JACK
I ended up staying at my parents’ place for two entire weeks. Wrote a ton of new shit—which, yeah, will most likely never see the light of day since it’s emo as hell, but shit. I needed out of whatever shit storm Ashley wanted to throw my way.
And looks like my instincts were about right. One day back in Vegas and Ashley is already here, at my feet, ready to beg.
Or pounce.
Honestly, I can’t tell, and she’s only a few feet away. Obviously our relationship was doomed.
What I don’t get is why she wants to make such a spectacle of things. It’s as if she wants the media to rip our relationship apart.
“Hello, gang,” she says, smiling, but I can tell she’s biting back an awful lot. “Jack, would you mind if I had a word with you?”
I look around the table. Ace, Landon, and McQueen are already snickering. They probably think this girl still has my balls in her grip, because the truth is I took my damn time breaking up with her.
They need to know she and I are through.
And apparently she needs to know it, too. You’d have thought the two weeks of me ignoring her calls and texts would have been clear enough.
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen,” I tell her.
She gives a sharp laugh. Okay, so she wants to pounce. Which means I need out of here stat. Kirby told me in a conference call today that I need to wrap this drama with Ashley up, and fast. Kendrick Music Group isn’t pleased with the press I’ve been getting.
Neither am I. When I left for my parents, I didn’t expect Ashley to sell our “sex secrets” to a magazine. Even for her, she’s gone overboard.
“Jacky,” she says, using a pet name I despise. “We need to work things out. Privately.”
“Nope.” I hold my ground.
“Why? Do you have plans or something?” She lowers an eyebrow at me. “Looks like another night of BS-ing with the exact same people you hang out with every night. I seriously need to talk.”
“I honestly have nothing to say to you. And, yeah, I do have plans.”
“Yeah, right,” she says, scowling. “For someone as high profile as you, you sure like to hang out with some lowlifes.”
Ace clears his throat, and I know if I don’t get her the hell out of here, Ace is gonna be mad as hell. And while he wouldn’t throw a punch at Ashley, he’ll gladly throw her ass out of his club and onto the curb, giving the middle finger to the music career that she has here.
But I don’t need him to fight my battles.
“I do have plans.” I look around at the couples, hands entwined, and I know just how to piss Ashley off more than anything. She wants to talk trash about my boys and their women? Well, she has another fucking thing coming. “I have a date.”
She pauses, and I know this has caught her off guard. No doubt she’s assuming I’m coming back to her, just like I’ve done every time we’ve broken up over the past twelve months. But she’s wrong. We’re never, ever getting back together.
Crossing her arms, she looks me up and down, trying to call my bluff. “Who’s your date, Jack?”
I cough, hoping this girl sitting beside me is willing to play along. The rest of the party is coupled up, and the truth is I don’t hang out with any other women in Vegas besides the ones right here.