Chapter 67

• I sway my body to the pulsing beat blasting from the club's speakers, my eyes fluttering shut as I let the alcohol coursing through my veins guide my movements. I'm lost in the music, in the blissful haze of intoxication, finally free from the constant ache in my chest. I don't know what day it is anymore, let alone the month. And frankly, I don't care.
• When drowning my sorrows in pints of ice cream stopped numbing the pain, I graduated to something stronger, something that could knock me out cold and grant me a few precious hours of oblivion. Mila's been worrying herself sick over me, convinced I'll never recover from Alex’s betrayal. And maybe she's right. This is my fourth night in a row at the club, ever since she cut me off from drinking at home. Alex had blown up my phone with calls and texts until I blocked his number, unable to bear seeing his name flashing on my screen.
• I roll my hips, shimmying lower as the bass drops, reveling in the appreciative whistles and catcalls from the men crowding the dance floor. But then a large hand clamps down on my ass, startling me out of my drunken haze. I don't bother turning around or demanding he remove it - at this point, I'm too far gone to care. Instead, I grind back against him, relishing the heat of his body pressed flush against mine. But the moment he leans in to whisper in my ear, I realize with a sickening lurch that I should have paid more attention.