But it’s my birthday, and Lady Luck owes me one after the shit day I’ve had.
Only, the bitch doesn’t deliver, and I end up losing another hand. Leaving me with a little over three hundred bucks left to my name.
Just enough to play one more round.
The waitress—who I can’t help but notice has been eyeing me all night—comes back with another whiskey.
I look down at my cards. I have a jack of spades and a queen of hearts. Not bad, but high cards don’t mean fuck all until you see how the rest of the hand plays out.
After the flop, I end up with a ten of spades, a five of hearts, and a nine of diamonds.
I take another sip of my whiskey as I debate whether or not to cut my losses.
Fuck it. In for a penny, in for a pound.
My knuckles knock against the table. “Check.”
The turn reveals a jack of hearts. Not bad, but not great either. However, if the river gives me another jack, there’s a chance I may just win this round.
I bring my glass to my lips and finish the rest of my drink as the rest of the table places their bets.
“Raise,” the man sitting across from me declares.
This motherfucker. Unlike the guy sitting next to me, he’s been doing a fuckton of bluffing this evening.
Since I’m positive my night can’t get any worse, I call him on it.
“All in.”
Once again, my thoughts drift back to Kit as I wait for the river.
I have no reason to be so irate, because unlike her—I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to marry her.
And yet, here I fucking am. Drinking my sorrows away because I caught her hooking up with someone else.
I should have walked away when I had the chance. I should have folded…
Goddammit.
“Must be my lucky night,” the guy exclaims as he reveals his full house and the entire pot goes to him.
I want nothing more than to wipe the smirk off his face when he collects his winnings and I’m left with nothing more than a few dollars.
The waitress sidles up beside me. “Can I get you another whiskey?”
I must be drunker than I thought because she looks even cuter now. Hell, if I squint a little, she almost resembles Kit. Almost.
Shooting her a smile, I hand her a dollar bill. “That depends. What time does your shift end?”
I notice a faint blush creeping up her neck. “It ended five minutes ago.”
“Do you have a car or should I get an Uber?”
She hikes a thumb behind her. “My car is in the parking lot.”
I stand up then, swaying a little with the movement. “Your place or mine?”
“Is it okay if we go to yours? I still live with my folks.”
Placing an arm around her shoulders, I glare at the bastard who took all my money. “Looks like you’re not the only one getting lucky tonight.” The men at the table chuckle as I salute them. “‘Evening, gentlemen.”
“What’s your name?” the chick questions as we make our way out of the casino.
“Preston.”
The man, the myth, the legend...
The fuckup.
“My name is Meagan,” she offers, despite me not asking.
“Nah,” I tell her as we enter the parking lot. “Tonight, you’re Kit.”
My favorite illusion.
She giggles. “Like a kitty cat?” Reaching over, she runs her nails down my stomach. “Want me to purr?”
I don’t give a fuck what she does as long as it gets me off.
Everything becomes a blur of pink as she leads me to her car.
She’s not Kit…but she’ll do.
Chapter 12
Kit
I slam my palm against the steering wheel when the jackass in front of me slows down. “Come on.”
It’s bad enough I’ve spent the last four and a half hours stuck in traffic while trying to get home, now the guy ahead of me wants to morph into a human snail.
I hope he didn’t leave.
Because while Preston has absolutely no right to be upset with me for a kiss I didn’t even want, I hate the thought of hurting him.
Especially on his birthday.
Which is why I asked Jess if I could cut my stay in New York short. She protested at first, but considering I was attacked in the parking garage, she relented. She just asked that I finish out the rest of the workday since it’s Valentine’s and plenty of people would be looking for a little self-love.
By the time I pull into the driveway, it’s after eleven and I’m so tired from the events of the day and sitting in traffic, I opt to leave my luggage in the car.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I reach the front door and find it unlocked.
He’s here.
At least, I hope so because when I walk into the kitchen, the lights are off.
My stomach coils with nerves…but then I hear it.
“Kit.”
Oh, God. His voice is nothing but a faint, tortuous rasp…as if he’s been curled up in a ball of misery…waiting for me.
I follow the voice, ready and willing to hash everything out because I hate fighting with him.
However, what I see after I round the corner and enter the living room nearly brings me to my knees.
Like the woman in front of him.
A river of pain infiltrates the empty spaces around my cracked heart. For a moment, I’m transported back to that moment in the hospital room, because the sight of Becca pleasuring Preston while simultaneously shattering my soul is something I won’t ever forget for as long as I live.
Aside from my parents dying, it was the single most painful experience of my life.
Until now.
Heart crumbling like cheap plywood, I watch as Preston lolls his head to the side and sways, looking so oblivious to the fact that I’m here it would almost be comical if it wasn’t utterly heart wrenching.
After what feels like an eternity, his heavy-lidded eyes open slightly. If he’s surprised to see me standing here, he doesn’t show it. Quite the opposite.
He looks pissed.
His jaw clenches as he grips the back of the couch to steady himself. “Miss me, angry girl?”
His rough voice is every bit as arrogant as he is…it’s also slurred. He’s been drinking.
The woman kneeling in front of him freezes, no doubt caught off guard.
I drop my gaze to where she is since looking at him hurts too much.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d take my husband’s dick out of your mouth and leave.”
Gasping, she scrambles to her feet. “I’m so sorry.” She spins around to face me while Preston zips up his jeans. “I didn’t—”
“It’s not your fault,” I assure her, because it’s not.
It’s his.
We stand there glaring like two enemies who want to obliterate each other as the girl gathers her purse off the floor and runs past me.
A moment later the front door slams shut and there’s nothing but silence…and the sound of my heart slowly breaking.
A surge of agony floods my system, because I don’t understand how we got here.
Or why he keeps hurting me.
All I know is I’m no longer origami, bending and folding…I’m crumpled up paper. Discarded like a piece of unwanted trash.