Dominic POV
I hit the bar before going to Amber’s house. One shot turned into two… then three. By the time I stumbled out of there, I wasn’t completely wasted, but I had enough of a buzz to numb the part of me that wanted to puke. I needed it—needed the burn in my throat to distract from the burn in my chest.
Every step toward Amber’s house felt heavier. I wasn’t just walking into a mistake—I was walking into betrayal. Not hers. Mine.
She opened the door in one of those silky little outfits she wore when she wanted something, but her face changed when she saw me.
“You’re drunk,” she said, brows drawing together. “Are you okay?”
I scoffed, stumbling in past her without answering at first. Then I turned, half-laughing, half-breaking. “Would you be okay if you had to prostitute yourself
