James didn’t reply. The bar wasn’t open and if his buddies took one second to think for themselves, they’d know that. He didn’t reach out to invite them to drink. He needed them to drive his truck back to his house so he could take the Ducati to the gym.
A detail he held back until after they arrived.
“You dick.” Ethan pulled the bill of his hat down low.
James shrugged. “Who’s driving Black Betty?”
Oliver held out his hand for the keys. “You realize this means we’ll both have to drive to your house. Me in the truck. Ethan in his piece of shit. Then he’ll have to drive me back here to get my car. Then we can go home.”
“You guys are the best.” James tossed Oliver the key and Ethan flipped him the bird.
“Better than you deserve.”
James shook his head. “You and I both know that’s not true.”
That was the glory of having more money than anyone else you knew. People were willing to do just about anything to stay in your good graces.
From an early age, James learned that not everyone wanted to be his friend because they liked him. More often than not, friendships popped up because people hoped his money might rub off and they’d get to live a lifestyle of the rich and famous by proxy.
After years of being taken advantage of, he learned it was better to take advantage first. There were a special few who loved James because of who he was not what he could do for them. They were a different story altogether. He would bend over backwards for those people.
Ethan and Oliver came into his life just as Erin walked out, and it quickly became obvious they were not members of the precious few.
After watching his buddies drive away in a cloud of thumping bass, James started the Ducati and gave the throttle two quick cracks before backing out of his space and tearing away with a practiced twitch of his wrist. When the bike lurched forward, his stomach protested with a queasy lurch of its own, but he wasn't in the mood to submit to a hangover. It was a beautiful day for a ride.
When he’d woken up in his own bed that morning, he’d been thoroughly confused. Even more so when he found himself still dressed except for his shoes, even though he was pretty sure he remembered having his hands all over some class-A titties the night before…some sweet thing stretched out on top of him, his mouth devouring hers. When he’d finally pulled it together enough to stumble down the stairs and found Ellie’s note, he’d been more than a little embarrassed.
Ellie Charles.
The woman who sold him coffee every Sunday.
The girl who had been in at least one of his classes every year through school.
The chick who was just a bit curvier than he liked, with wild dark hair and a bluntness she didn’t know how to rein in. The total opposite of rail-thin, platinum blonde Erin, the woman who’d held the keys to his heart for the last decade.
Thinking of Erin turned his stomach again. He rolled back on the throttle and the bike shot forward, eager to be unleashed. Bliss didn’t have a gym, so it was a long, quiet ride out to a town that did. With the warm sun on his back and the wind rushing past him, the sea glistening to one side and a long straight road ahead of him, it was easy to forget all the reasons he was broken. He wasn’t going to let thoughts of Erin creep into his head and ruin the day like she had every day for the last two months.
James pulled into the gym parking lot and walked inside, his helmet tucked under one arm as he nodded a greeting to the guy at the front desk. His phone pinged as he pushed the locker door closed, a text from his older brother, Ian—the guy who had everything in his life fall into place just as James’ fell apart.
All Ian wanted to talk about was his upcoming wedding. He wanted James to be his best man, but James wasn’t interested.
The whole marriage thing was doomed anyway. Ian and his fiancée only dated a few months before popping the question and sure, the couple was ridiculously happy, but James had learned firsthand that true love didn’t exist. Not the kind that could survive years of being with the same person day in and day out. Marriage and everything that came with it was the biggest scam of modern living.
How could Ian not see that?
With a shake of his head, James tossed his phone back in the locker and headed for the free-weights. Any response would just lead to a slew of questions about how he was doing, which would inevitably cause Ian to hit him with a litany of life advice he didn’t need and wasn’t interested in.
James had a long day ahead and if he didn’t shed that fucking hangover, it was just going to feel that much longer. The last thing he needed was a lecture from Ian.
After the gym, he had a multi-hour private session scheduled with his MMA trainer—another of the bad decisions Ian was always going on about. Those private sessions took a toll on a normal day, leaving him bruised and hurting in places he didn’t know could hurt. He wasn’t looking forward to how he’d feel after what he’d done to himself the night before.
But there was no point avoiding it—he had essentially the same thing planned with Ethan and Oliver later that night—that was how self-destruction worked. Those two were terrible influences. That was a huge part of the fun.
He had a lot of wasted time to make up for. He’d spent a decade with the same girl, making safe decisions, doing the so-called right thing. His current life plan included sweating it out at the
