Freed from the weight of sobriety, I could even admit that my dislike of him partly stemmed from envy. What was it like to live life so carefree every day? To not worry about being perceived by others or being good enough, successful enough, impactful enough to justify my existence?
My throat dried before I shook off the unwanted thoughts. “Look bad?” I covered up the momentary lapse in my defenses with a defiant chin tilt. “I’m the one who apparently can’t dance, not you.”
“We can change that. I’ve been told I’m an excellent instructor.”
“Doubtful.”
“You always underestimate me.”
“And you always provoke me.”
He gave a casual shrug. “I like it when you get mad. Proves you’re not an ice queen after all.”
My buzz disappeared fast enough for me to feel the punch of his words.
If you weren’t such an ice queen all the time, maybe I wouldn’t have gone looking elsewhere.
She’s hot, but I bet she’s frigid in bed…
For God’s sake, Sloane, smile. Why can’t you look happy for once?
The pressure returned. A lump crawled into my throat, but as always, my eyes remained dry.
No wonder people called me an ice queen. I couldn’t even show emotion properly.
Xavier must’ve noticed the sudden shift in my mood because his smile vanished. “Hey, I wasn’t—”
“I have to go.” I pushed past him, my chest tight. His hand touched my shoulder. “Sloane—”
“Don’t touch me, and do not follow me.” I injected my trademark coldness into my words. “Enjoy the rest of the party.”
I shrugged him off and didn’t stop walking until I’d locked myself in my bathroom and turned the shower on at full blast.
I didn’t care that I’d already showered a few hours ago. I needed something to drown out the noise in my head.
I pressed my forehead against the tile and closed my eyes.
I stayed there until the lump in my throat dissolved, and as droplets of water cascaded down my face, I pretended they were tears.
CHAPTER 7
Xavier
I didn’t sleep well for the second night in a row.
Instead of the bridge dream, I was haunted by images of Sloane’s face before she left last night.
What the hell had I said wrong? She usually took my comments in stride, and she never left a conversation when I had the upper hand.
She couldn’t be that upset about a stupid bad-dancer joke, right?
My foul mood worsened when I woke to an empty villa. Her luggage was still in her room, but she was a ghost from morning to early evening.
I tried to put Sloane out of my mind and focus on Luca. He’d been pretty bummed since he and Leaf broke up, though my sympathy for him had dwindled when I saw him flirting with my fucking publicist at the beach.
She wasn’t even his type.
I brooded over my drink while my friends engaged in their usual shenanigans at the resort’s private beach club.
I should be having the time of my life, but ennui had grabbed hold of me and refused to let go. I’d seen it all and done it all. After the initial rush of a good time, these parties were all the same.
I could’ve given the club owner some tips on how to improve. The sound system wasn’t picking up the music’s underlying bass, and the girl-to-guy ratio was off. The decor, the entertainment, the food…they were good, not great, but how people ran their business wasn’t my business, so I kept my mouth shut.
Don’t you get bored of doing nothing? Sloane’s question echoed in my head.
I pushed it aside, downed my drink and faced Luca, who lounged next to me by the pool, nursing a hangover and a beer. The sun had set, but the beach club was just getting into the swing of things. “Dante know you’re hanging out with us again?”
Luca’s brother and CEO of the Russo Group, the multibillion-dollar luxury goods conglomerate, wasn’t a fan of anyone in our circle.
Honestly, I didn’t blame him. If I’d had a younger brother, I wouldn’t want him hanging out with me either.
“He’s not my warden.” Nevertheless, Luca glanced around like the intimidating older Russo was going to pop out from behind a potted plant. “I get vacation days like everyone else, and I can spend them however I like.”
“Hmm.”
“Speaking of which, where’s Sloane?”
