Page 170 of I’m The Worst

“AJ!”

I force a smile as she rushes toward me, wrapping me in a hug.

“I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“We literally saw each other last week.”

She waves a hand dismissively. “You know what I mean.”

No. I don’t. But before I can answer, she continues.

“Anyway, Wolff and I were just talking⁠—”

Wolff?

I look past her shoulder toward the man leaning against the railing. He looks unfairly good in black. The suit fits him perfectly, emphasizing the broad line of his shoulders and the hard cut of his waist. His dark hair is pushed back from his face, his beard trimmed close to his jaw.

I’ve tuned Devin out completely. Her voice fades into nothing as I stare at him.

I haven’t heard from him in weeks.

Not a call.

Not a text.

Nothing.

And apparently, he’s been standing out here with Devin?

Of course he would be. Why wouldn’t Wolff be here with her? She’s a Siren. Her body is perfect. Everything about her is fucking perfect. And she doesn’t need to be high out of her mind to fuck anyone.

“I have to go,” I blurt out. “My fiancé is probably looking for me.” The lie sounds stupid even to me.

I turn and walk back through the door, straight to the bar, and grab the first bottle I see. I don’t care what it is. Because the ache in my chest is back. And it’s getting worse.

I didn’t even want to come to this fucking party.

I knew tonight would be miserable. But I didn’t expect him to be here. And I definitely didn’t expect him to be standing with her.

Clutching the bottle, I head down a hallway, away from the ballroom, and shove open the nearest bathroom door. The second I step inside, someone grabs me, the door slamming shut behind us. My heart launches into my throat. A large hand clamps over my mouth as my back hits the wall.

The scent of whiskey and pine crashes into me.

For one terrifying second, my body locks up. Then I realize who it is.

Wolff.

His eyes burn into mine in the dim light. His hand remains firmly over my mouth while his other arm cages me against the wall.

Fucking bastard.

I shove at his chest, trying to twist away, but his grip only tightens, pinning me in place.

“Let me go, you asshole.” My words are muffled against his palm.

He doesn’t move. Just stares down at me with those dark, unreadable eyes. I bite down on his hand, hard enough to taste blood. He flinches, grip tightening as he leans in closer.

“Bad, solnyshko.”