Concern I really do not deserve.

“Yes, I’m fine. I just felt a little hot, a little queasy, but I’m fine now.”

I’m not fine, I’m miserable, disgusted with myself, and so very screwed up.

Here I was promising myself I’d be better for Will, and then I go and have sex with Jake in a bathroom. And now I’m an even bigger mess than I was before.

I pick my margarita up.

“Is it a good idea to drink that if you feel sick, darling? I can go to the bar and get you some water if you want?”

“No, I’m fine – honestly,” I add at Will’s worried expression.

What I need right now is alcohol and lots of it. I take a deep gulp of my margarita.

Stuart catches my eye and gives me a knowing look, lifting his eyebrow.

He knows I’m sleeping with Jake.

Of course he does. Dave knows so it makes sense he does.

I’ve spent the last five days holed up with Jake. And Stuart is his PA. He knows Jake’s itinerary, his every movement. It’s his job to.

I bet he thinks I’m a complete slut.

My cheeks burn with shame.

I glance across the room, past Stuart, and see Jake is with Zzhuilette again.

I get a twisted feeling in my stomach.

She’s sitting in his lap and they’re sharing a cigarette. She puts it in his mouth, holding it to his lips while he takes a drag. Touching his lips with her fingers.

Lips that were on mine minutes before. Kissing me, everywhere.

She transfers the cigarette to her own lips and takes a long, sultry drag. Leaning close, she blows the smoke into Jake’s mouth.

I feel a flash of white hot jealously streak through me, as I see that his hand is on her thigh, his other stroking her arm, intimately.

I have a flash of memory, his hands on me, touching me.

Then I watch as Jake releases the used smoke from his mouth, and leans in and whispers something in her ear. She throws her head back and laughs.

How can he do this when he was just in there with me? How can he move on so quickly?

He’s sitting there with her in his lap, and my torn panties in his pocket.

I feel sick.

He catches my eye.

Don’t kiss her. Please don’t kiss her.

Then with clear defiance on his face, he grabs hold of the back of her head, and plants his mouth on hers.

I almost vomit into my drink.

How could he do this? He was having sex with me less than ten minutes ago and now he’s out here kissing another woman.

I know I’m no angel in this, but I would never have come back out here, after been with him in there, and stuck my tongue down Will’s throat.

Hot tears burn the backs of my eyes. I have the urge to run.

But where to? And it’s not like I can just run off anyway. Will would wonder what the hell was wrong with me.

I’m trapped here, doomed to watch, while Jake kisses another woman, minutes after having sex with me.

Deep breaths, Tru. It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.

Closing my eyes, shutting them out, I pick my margarita up and drain the glass.

But I have to look again. It’s torture, but I can’t help myself.

I open my eyes to see Jake’s no longer kissing her; he’s talking to Tom, who also has a groupie hanging off him. But Zzhuilette is still in Jake’s lap. Her hands are on him.

I hate her, and I hate him.

No I don’t, I love him. But I want to hate him. In this moment it’s all I want. It would make all of this so much easier if I did.

Because this is Jake. This is what he does. It’s what he’s famous for.

He never gave a shit about being with me. I’m just a challenge to him. Something to conquer. He would have got bored with me the instant he took me off Will, and would have tossed me aside like all the rest of them.

Jake can have his pick of women. There’s not one single reason why he would have wanted me as his forever.

And I’m seeing the evidence clear, now, before me.

“Another drink, darling?” Will’s already on his feet, gesturing to my empty glass.

He’s so attentive. I don’t deserve him.

I do love him.

But I love Jake. More. I think. I don’t know.

Crap.

“Shots!” I blurt out.

Will gives me a puzzled look.

“Ooh, I’m down for shots,” Stuart chips in, grinning, tapping his fingers on the table.

I think I’ve just found my drinking soul mate for the evening, seeing as though Simone has abandoned me for the gorgeous, sweet Denny.

Why can’t Jake be more like Denny?

“A round of tequila shots please, baby … oh, and a beer chaser and another margarita – Stuart?” I look at him with a question.

He looks back at me impressed.

Well if I have to spend the night watching Jake maul a leggy redhead not long after having sex with me, then I’m going to do it drunk.

Stuart looks up at Will, and says, “I’ll have what the lovely Tru is having, oh and make sure to put it on Jake’s tab.”

He winks at me.

“Okay. Good. I’ll be back in a minute,” Will mutters still looking slightly perplexed.

I know he thinks I’ve lost it. He probably thinks I’m spending too much time around musicians. He’s right I am. But not in the way he thinks. My problem is I’ve been spending way too much time with one musician in particular – in the very blackest sense of the word.

But right now, I don’t care. It’s either get drunk, or go ass-over-backwards crazy.

I opt for drunk.

And I’m kind of loving Stuart right now for supporting me in my alcohol binge, and for spending Jake’s money in the process of helping me do it.

I watch Will go over to the bar. Anything to keep my wandering eyes off Jake and Zzhuilette.

I see Simone is still perched at the bar, her and Denny deep in conversation, totally engrossed with each other.

I’m glad for her. Denny is a cool guy.

“You hanging in there, gorgeous?” Stuart asks me, bringing my attention around to him. “Or do you want me to go kick his ass.”

“Who?” I’m confused.

“Jake.” He raises his eyebrows at me.

“Oh.” I lean my head into my hand, and glance over at him. “Am I that transparent?”

“No. But he is.” He tilts his head back in Jake’s direction.

“Please don’t say anything to anyone … Will.”

He gives me an, ‘as if I would’ look.

“Thank you,” I utter quietly.

“Tru, I don’t like to stick my nose in other people’s business … but look, gorgeous, Jake’s not only my boss, he’s my friend, and I’ve known him a long time – I live with the guy. And basically, the idiot is crazy about you. I have never seen him, with anyone, the way he is with you.”

I look at him surprised by his words.

“Except for when he’s sticking his tongue down the throat of a leggy redhead,” I add, trying to muster up a smile.

It doesn’t work.

“Don’t let that bother you, honey. That’s just Jake trying to prove a point to you and himself. Trying to prove you don’t matter to him as much as he knows you do. It’s not going so well, as you can see. He doesn’t do hurt well, so he’s trying to hurt you to make himself feel better. He’s all about the pain that one.”

He leans closer to me.

“He’s not used to this, gorgeous. Women don’t play with Jake. He plays with them. He uses them as he sees fit and then tosses them aside when’s he’s had enough. It’s what he’s done since I’ve been with him, and long before that I imagine. It’s all he knows how to do. I can’t even begin to tell you how many women I’ve drove home, consoled, fielded calls from, had to arrange restraining orders against … anyway, I digress,” he says at my pained expression. “Basically, since you arrived back in his life he’s changed.”

“He hasn’t.” I shake my head.

He touches my arm, briefly. “He has, chica. He was living in his own world, floating along in his overly large, Jake bubble, screwing anything with a pulse, and then you came back into his life and I saw the instant change in him. From that day in the hotel, when he saw you, he’s been different. No screwing around. He’s like a freakin’ Catholic priest – minus the boys,” he chuckles.

“He can’t screw around, because he finds himself not wanting to, because he can’t get you out of his head. It’s an alien concept for him, sweetheart. He’s ten-shades of crazy about you, which I’m pretty sure he’s already realised – add in to that you have a boyfriend you won’t give up for him … and this is the result.” He waves his hand over his shoulder in Jake’s general direction, leaning back in his chair. “He’s met his equal in you that’s for sure.”

“I don’t know about that, and it’s not that I won’t give Will up,” I whisper. “There’s just–”

“Never a right time, honey, I know. There never is when it comes to breaking someone’s heart. But you will have to break one of those boys’ hearts, and I’d say sooner rather than later. But I figure you already know that. And Jake, well he’ll regret whatever continuing performance he puts on tonight – tomorrow. Remember honey, he’s a man, and with men you just you have to treat them like the children they are.”

I raise my brow at him. “You’re a man…”

“Yes, but I’m the best kind of man, my gorgeous-one, I’m Venus and Mars.” He winks at me.

I can’t help but laugh, even though inside I’m in complete and utter agony.

Then one of my favourite dance songs comes on.

“You wanna dance?” I ask to Stuart, getting to my feet, holding my hand out to him.

I refuse to sit here wallowing for a moment longer. I want to forget, and dancing will make me forget.

“You’re asking a gay guy if he wants to dance? Is the Pope celibate – actually no don’t answer that.” He gets to his feet and takes hold of my hand. “It will be my absolute pleasure to grind on that dance floor with the hottest chica here tonight.”

“Ah, now you’re definitely just being Mars.”

“Damn,” he grins.

I catch Will’s eye at the bar and indicate to him that Stuart and I are hitting the dance floor. He gives me a brief nod.

Stuart leads me onto the dance floor by the hand. I instantly start to relax.

I leave behind thoughts of Jake and Will, and complicated relationships at the edge of this dance floor, and lose myself in my one true love. Music.

And hell, I thought Jake could move – Stuart would knock him on his ass in a dance-off, and Jake being knocked on his ass is something I would take great pleasure in watching right now.

Stuart is moving around the floor like a pro and I actually look like I know what I’m doing thanks to his awesomeness. Not that I’m a bad dancer, but Stuart is dynamite.

I wonder if he ever used to dance professionally?

We are starting to attract quite a few stares. And I can see Jake watching us from his table. Zzhuilette is off his lap for the time being, thank god. She’s probably plumping up her cleavage in the toilet.