Gabby's POV
It felt like a slap hearing him call my name with so much disgust and distance in his voice.
I curled into myself on the bed, arms wrapped around my knees, the disgust on his face burned into my brain. The way his lip had curled. The pure revulsion in his eyes. I couldn’t breathe through any of it.
My body shook with ugly, silent cries. I’d ruined everything. The one person I wanted most in the world now looked at me like I was poison.
I couldn’t stay here. Not with his words ringing in my ears.
Wiping my face roughly, I stumbled to my closet. Black jean bum shorts. A tight cropped shirt that showed too much skin and my boots. I raked my fingers through my hair, then piled on heavy makeup…dark smokey eyes, blood-red lips. Armor. Something to hide behind.
When I was done, I climbed out the window, heart still shattered, tears drying on my cheeks.
The night air hit my skin, cool and sharp. I needed to forget. I needed to get so high I couldn’t remember his face when he said I disgusted him.
Because if I remembered, I wasn’t sure I’d survive it.
The night air felt cool against my tear-streaked face as I crouched by the curb a few blocks from home, hidden in the shadow of an old oak tree.
My phone screen glowed in the dark as I pulled up my best friend’s contact.
I hit the dial button before I could overthink it and he picked up on the second ring.
“Hey,” I whispered, biting back the bile rising from my throat.
“Gabby? What’s up? You sound like shit.”
“Just come get me. Please.” My voice cracked, showing my desperation. “The usual spot."
He didn’t ask questions. That’s Ethan for you.
Fifteen minutes later, I heard the low rumble of his black motorcycle before I saw it. The headlight cut through the darkness, and he pulled up right in front of me, killing the engine.
He swung one long leg off the bike, looking every bit the guy who’d had my back since we were eight years old sharing crayons in elementary school.
Ethan was tall, with warm brown skin that always seemed to glow under the lights, sharp cheekbones, and these deep-set hazel eyes that could go from playful to serious in a heartbeat.
His black t-shirt stretched across a solid chest from all those gym sessions he dragged me to, and his jeans hung low on his hips. Handsome as hell. The kind of handsome that turned heads on campus.
But looking at him only ever gave me this safe, warm, brotherly feeling. Like home. Not the chaotic fire that Aiden lit inside me.
He pulled off his helmet and handed me the spare one, his eyebrows shooting up at my outfit and the heavy makeup.
“At least tell me he rejected you nicely,” he said, that teasing grin spreading across his face. “Maybe patted your head and told you, ‘Kiddo, don’t worry, it’s just puberty. It’ll go away in a few years.’”
How did he even figure out that I was rejected?
I snatched the helmet from his hand and whacked him hard on the back with it. The thud made him laugh, doubling over dramatically.
“Shut up and drive, asshole,” I muttered, but a tiny smile tugged at my lips despite everything. That was Ethan…always knowing exactly how to poke at the wound without making it bleed worse.
He straightened up, still chuckling. “Where to, Your Majesty?”
“The club. That loud one downtown. Eclipse.”
He hesitated, keys dangling in his hand. “Gabby… can’t we just hit a nice restaurant instead? Or karaoke? Something organized where you can unwind without ending up face-down in a toilet.”
I shook my head. “Today is not the day for organized, Ethan. I need to forget. Really forget.”
He studied me for a long second, that responsible look crossing his face…the one that had kept me out of real trouble since we were teenagers.
Then he sighed, swung back onto the bike, and started it up.
I climbed on behind him, wrapping my arms tight around his waist. His back felt solid and warm through his jacket. I rested my cheek against him, breathing in the faint smell of his cologne mixed with leather.
The engine roared, and we took off. Wind whipped past us, stinging my eyes. Every few seconds, Aiden’s face flashed in my mind…that twisted look of disgust, the way he’d said my full name like it tasted bad.
“I didn’t confess my feelings to him.”
The words echoed through my mind, desperate and frantic.
“It didn’t happen. I didn’t confess. I didn’t.”
I repeated them over and over, clinging to the lie like a lifeline, as if the repetition could rewrite reality.
As if I could erase the memory of those words leaving my lips. As if I could somehow drag them back and bury them where they could never hurt me again.
But no matter how many times I said it, the truth remained.
I had confessed. And he rejected me.
I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed harder into Ethan’s back, fighting the tears that wanted to spill again.
He didn’t tease me once the whole ride. Just silence and the steady thrum of the motorcycle.
The club hit us like a wall when we arrived. Ethan parked safely, and I handed him the helmet back.
He took my hand, giving it a squeeze.
“Alright, bestie. Allow me to guide you through Forgetting Lane.”
I smiled as I let him lead me.
Inside, the bass pounded so deep I felt it in my chest.
Lights flashed…red, blue, purple…strobe lights cutting across the packed dance floor where bodies moved like one sweaty, pulsing organism.
Girls in tiny tops and shorts served drinks, their skin glistening under the lights. Up on the raised stage, two women in barely-there lingerie spun around poles, hips rolling, legs wrapping in ways that made the crowd whoop and throw money.
The air smelled like alcohol, perfume, and pure chaos. It pulled me in immediately. This was exactly what I needed…noise loud enough to drown out everything in my head.
I headed straight for the bar, pushing through bodies. “Three shots of tequila. Strongest you’ve got,” I told the bartender.
I downed the first one fast, the burn racing down my throat and spreading fire in my stomach. The second and third followed suit. The world already felt a little softer around the edges.
“Gabby, calm down,” Ethan said, sliding up beside me. “Let’s just talk it out. You’re gonna have a killer hangover tomorrow if you go on like this.”
I waved him off, speech already starting to slur. “Kill sport. Always such a kill sport.” The room tilted a bit as I laughed. I slapped the bar. “Gimme the whole bottle!”
He tried to stop me, but I grabbed it anyway and started chugging. The vodka went down easier than it should have. Heat flooded my veins as everything felt fuzzy and distant and good.
Before I knew it, I was pulling Ethan onto the dance floor, my hands on his shoulders.
I ground against him to the heavy beat, hips rolling, body pressing close. He danced with me awkwardly at first, hands light on my waist like he was scared I’d break.
Then I broke away, laughing wildly, and rushed up to the stage where the pole dancers were.
The crowd cheered as I grabbed a pole, trying to copy their moves…spinning sloppily, sliding down with my shorts riding up, feeling the cool metal against my heated skin. People clapped and jeered as the lights blurred.
“Gabby!” Ethan shouted, pushing through to pull me off. “That’s enough! Get down, now!”
I screamed at the top of my lungs, a raw, drunken sound that mixed with the music.
Then I spotted a random tall guy near the edge of the dance floor…dark hair, broad shoulders. I stumbled toward him, grabbing his shirt and pulling him down like I was going to kiss him hard.
Ethan caught my arm just in time, yanking me back. “That’s enough, Gabby. Come on, let’s go home.”
“Nooo,” I whined, words thick. “We just got here! Why do you wanna go home already?”
He shook his head, looking worried. “Your parents are gonna be worried. I’m taking you home now."
The word “home” hit like a slap. Aiden’s face flashed again…disgust, anger, that slammed door.
Tears started pouring down my face. I crashed hard, right there in the middle of the club, sobbing loud enough that a few people stared. “Why won’t he love me back? I’m grown now… I can make him feel good just like every other girl. Why does he look at me like I'm still a child?”
Ethan stayed quiet the whole time, just rubbing my back in slow circles while I bawled into his chest, mascara running black streaks down my cheeks. He let me get it all out, soaking his shirt.
Then he scooped me up like I weighed nothing, one arm under my knees, the other around my back.
“We’re going. You’re way too wasted for the bike. We’ll get a hotel room nearby and leave in the morning.”
I didn’t argue. Just nuzzled my face into his neck, breathing him in as the world spun.
The next time my eyes opened, everything was dim and quiet. A hotel room. Soft bed under me. My head throbbed, but the alcohol still buzzed warmly in my blood. Ethan sat on the edge of the bed, watching me with concern.
But as I blinked, his face started blurring. The features shifted…hazel eyes turning ice-blue, warm brown skin paling to that familiar sharp jawline.
Aiden. He came. He was here.
“Aiden?” I muttered, voice rough and pleading. “You came? Do you… regret everything you said to me?”
I reached out, grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer. I pressed my lips to his in a messy, desperate kiss. He pushed me away gently, but I wasn’t having it. The need burned too hot…years of wanting and craving him.
I shoved him back onto the bed. Before he could sit up, I climbed over him, straddling his hips. My shorts rode up as I settled my weight on him, feeling the heat between my legs press against his body.
I leaned down, lips brushing his neck, kissing the skin there softly at first, then harder, sucking lightly.
“Aiden, please,” I whispered against his throat, my voice breaking with raw need. “Love me back…”