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Ruined by LP Lovell (18)

CHAPTER TWENTY

MOLLY

 

Fucking arsehole. He’s so bloody selfish. What Hugo wants, Hugo takes. He’s only here because hasn’t found anything better to amuse him for the night. That would be fine. I’d usually just blow it off as typical Hugo, except that now he knows how I feel about him, and yet he still chooses to toy with my heart. Well, fuck him.

“You okay?” Alex asks, his eyes drifting over my shoulder.

I nod. “Yeah, I’m good.” He wraps an arm around my shoulder and guides me back inside the club. I glance down the street and see a lone figure walking away. Why does he have such a hold on me?

 

I tell Alex I’m going to the loo, and send him back to the table. I don’t go to the loo. I go to the bar and order two tequila shots. The bar is split into three sections, the first two rooms are loud, with dance floors and neon lights. This room is a little quieter. I take a seat on the bar stool. I just need a minute. The barman places the tequila on the bar, and I pay him.

I down it straight, and cough as I down the second one, pressing the back of my hand against my mouth.

“You should never drink cheap tequila.” I turn towards the deep voice, its low timber easily heard over the music. Theo. I know he’s not responsible for the actions of his friend, but I’m hurting and irrational right now, and he just makes me think of Hugo.

“Yeah, well, it’s serving a purpose.” I summon the barman again and order two more.

“You sure you want to go down this road, Molly? It’s not like you.” I laugh. Good old dependable Molly. She can always be trusted to look after everyone, to be the safe one. What about me?

“Pretty fucking sure.”

He takes a seat next to me and calls the barman over, ordering the same as me. “Well, friends don’t let friends drink alone.” He says. “Plus, if Lilly sees you, she’ll be all over it, and then I’ll have to carry her vomiting, staggering arse home, and I won’t get laid.”

I laugh. “Fair enough.”

“So, you and Alex moving in. That’s a big deal.” He starts.

“Yeah.” It is a big deal, and honestly, I’m scared shitless. I’m scared of making a mistake. There’s a long silence, and I glance at him. He’s resting his elbows on the bar, fiddling with the shot glass in front of him. “Just say it already.” I huff.

He looks up at me, tilting his head to the side. “Say what?”

“Hugo.” I growl. “I know you came to say something, so say it.”

He shakes his head. “Nope.”

“He’s a fucking arse.”

“Yep.” He replies.

The tequila is kicking in now, and I’m not sure if it’s making me more or less inclined to kill Hugo.

“Seriously. He’s all; I will never love you Molly, and then he turns up here and fucking kisses me.” I throw my hands up in exasperation. “Who does that?”

“He’s…struggling.” I narrow my eyes at him and he holds his hands up. “Hey, I’m not defending him. He’s a fucking idiot.”

“It’s fine. I don’t want to talk about it.” I cut him off and order another shot. I don’t want to talk about it, and I don’t want to think about it, but my mind is replaying that kiss over and over on a loop. Hugo has that effect. He kisses me and everything else falls away. I know I can’t have him, hell, I don’t even want him after the way he’s made me feel, but damn, he almost makes me want to be used by him. He just has this ability to make me lose all my inhibitions, both within myself, and sexually. He’s dirty, and dominant, and I love it. No-one else generates that kind of raw, primal need in me. I feel alive when I’m with him, and I guess I’m terrified of never feeling like that again.

Alex is lovely, and I adore him. He’s like a warm fire on a cold night, but he will never be the wild flame that is Hugo. He’ll also never burn me. There’s always a trade-off.

 

A couple of hours later, and I stagger through the front door of Alex’s flat. He grabs my arm to steady me as I almost fall flat on my face.

I slump against the wall, and sway as I pull my shoes off. “Oh, that feels so good.” I slur, giggling.

“Uh, what does?” He asks, watching me warily.

“The carpet on my toes. My feet hurt.” I point at my toes, wiggling them.

“Okay. You should probably drink some water. You’ll be dehydrated.” He goes to walk past me, but I grab his shirt, pushing him up against the wall in the hall.

“I know something that might rehydrate me.” I’m drunk, and horny, and feeling really slutty. I yank at his belt buckle roughly, kissing down his neck. His hands grip my waist, and his fingers clench as I graze my teeth across his throat.

“Molly.” His voice is thick and raspy.

I ignore him, slowly lowering myself onto my knees in front of him. I bite my lip, looking up at him as I trace my finger under the elastic of his boxers. He takes a deep breath and steps backward, pulling away from me. I fall forward and land on my hands and knees.

“Where are you going?” I whine like a sulky child.

“To get you water.” He says, heading towards the kitchen.

“I already told you, I don’t want water.” I huff. He’s gone. “Alex!”

He comes back a few seconds later with a glass of water. His jeans are now done up again. “Drink this.” He holds it out to me, and I take a sip.

“You’re no fun.” I pout.

He offers me a small smile. “I won’t take advantage of you when you’re drunk, Molly.”

“It’s not taking advantage.” I argue. “I’m your girlfriend, you’re supposed to take advantage of me.” He shakes his head. Oh my god, he’s seriously going to turn me down! I’m so fucking horny, I’m going to start humping inanimate objects. I totally blame Hugo. Wanker.

He holds his hand out to help me up. I take it, and let him pull me to my feet. “Because I love you, and I would never use you like that.” He cups my cheeks in both hands and leans forward, pressing his lips into my forehead. Never use me like that. Fuck, right now, I want to be used, preferably against every surface in this flat. The nasty little voice in my head whispers at me that Hugo would fuck me right now. That thought is like a bucket of ice cold water.

I step back away from him, and turn around, walking toward the bedroom.

“Molly?” He calls after me.

I go into the bedroom and silently remove my dress, dropping it onto the floor. One of Alex’s shirts is on the back of the chair, and I pull it on, inhaling the smell of his cologne.

“What is wrong with you tonight?” I spin around to see Alex standing in the doorway.

“Nothing.”

“You disappeared outside for a long time.” He says quietly. “I saw Hugo.”

I inhale sharply. “He wanted to congratulate me.”

He nods slowly. “And then after he leaves, you start drinking tequila like it’s an Olympic sport…” He drags a hand through his dark waves as his golden eyes watch me.

I shrug. “Hugo drives me to drink. What can I say?”

“You seemed upset.”

“Well I wasn’t!” I snap. He cocks an eyebrow, but remains silent. “I’m going to bed.”

 

Later that night, I lay there staring at the ceiling. I should be asleep. If nothing else, the tequila should have knocked me out, and stopped my stupid mind from thinking, but it hasn’t, on either account.

I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore. I don’t know what I want, and I don’t know who I am. I’m the good friend, the loyal girlfriend, the doting daughter. I’m not this person, the person who deceives her boyfriend whilst pining for another man. The girl who falls in love with her friend. The girl who lays next to her boyfriend, and cries, because she wishes he were someone else. The girl who should break up with her boyfriend, but can’t, because she selfishly loves him too.

I swipe at my tears frantically. I don’t know who this person is, and I don’t like her.

 

A few days later, and I’m standing in the middle of my bedroom surrounded by packed boxes. I’m excited at the prospect of having a life with Alex, but I can’t help this niggling feeling in my stomach. I keep telling myself that it’s just the change. Nobody likes change, right?

I sit down on my stripped bed and check my phone. No messages. No missed calls. I don’t know what I’m expecting, or quite what I’m waiting for. Maybe an out? Shit, this is all happening so fast. I’m worried that it’s too soon. Maybe I only said yes to moving in with Alex because I was so heartbroken over Hugo. Hugo rejected me, and Alex was there with open arms telling me that he wanted a life with me. Hugo told me he could never commit, and Alex made a commitment right there and then. Am I doing this for the right reasons? Surely if you move in with someone, then you intend to marry them, and have kids. I’m not saying I wouldn’t want that with Alex, but it’s just too soon. I don’t know!

I’m still in the throws of my mental breakdown when there’s a knock on my bedroom door and George pops his head around the door.

“Um, sweetie, there’s someone here to see you.” His eyes are wide, a hint of concern on his features.

“Who?”

“Me.” The door pushes open revealing Hugo, standing in the doorway behind George. I say nothing as our eyes lock.

“I’ll…go.” George says, slowly creeping away.