Pain lances across my chest. I press my hand to it.
I’m so weak and stupid.
I hate that he can hurt me in this way.
And I hate even more that I let him.
I might be angry with Kas. But I’m angrier with myself for being so stupid.
I was stupid over a man before, and that cost me everything.
I won’t be stupid again.
I’m not some toy to be played with.
Screw Kastor Matis and his mind games.
I’m done.
If he ever tries to kiss me again, I’m going to knee him in the balls.
Well, maybe not actually knee him in the balls because that’s assault and a surefire way to end up back in prison. But I’ll imagine kneeing him in the balls while I give him the middle finger.
Screw Kastor Matis and his screwed up self.
I don’t need his crap. I already have problems of my own without him bringing more to the party.
As far as I’m concerned, Kas no longer exists. He’s invisible to me.
And Mr. Matis only exists inside my place of work.
He’s playing games with me, playing me for a fool. He thinks I’m naive and needy.
Maybe I was. But no more.
I won’t let him get away with treating me like an idiot anymore.
He tries to come near me again, and he’ll find out just exactly what Daisy Smith is really made of.
And, with my renewed sense of purpose and the realization that I’ve been gone quite a while and that Cece is probably getting worried, I walk out of the restroom and back into the noise of the club.
Twenty-Three
I’m tired, and my feet are aching. And, to round it all off, it’s raining.
But I came dressed for the weather, so if anyone feels like puddle-splashing me, they can because I have my raincoat on, Cece’s wellies on my feet, and an umbrella in my hand.
No way am I getting soaked.
I’m on the train, heading into work. My stomach is churning at the thought of seeing Kas.
I’m praying that he won’t be there, like he hasn’t been for these past few days.
I’m also not looking forward to telling Cooper that I can’t go out with him tonight.
I might be done with Kas-hole, but I’m still hurt over his behavior. I would only be going out with Cooper to get back at him, and that’s not fair to Cooper.
And I’ve decided that men just aren’t for me.
From now on, I’m Celibate Daisy.
Men are trouble, pure and simple. One man in particular, who goes by the name of Kas-hole.
But he’s no longer my problem.
I see my stop approaching. I get up from my seat, hooking my bag on my shoulder and grabbing my umbrella. I walk to the door.
I wait, watching as the station pulls into view, and I let out a yawn.
Cece and I weren’t out too late last night. We left soon after my little incident with Kas.
When I got back from the restroom, Cece was alone with our drinks, but she had gotten the number of the cute guy she was talking to.
But she took one look at my face and knew immediately that something was wrong.
All I had to say was one word—Kas. And then we were downing our drinks, heading out of there, and getting a taxi home.
I told her everything in the taxi ride home. The driver must have gotten a good story out of it.
By the time we got home, I was exhausted and emotionally drained, and I just wanted to go to bed.
My alarm went off far too soon for my liking, and I had to haul myself out of bed to get ready for work.
I made coffee, poured it into my to-go cup, and left the apartment to catch my train, cursing Cece and the fact that she’s off work today.
The train pulls to a stop. I pull my hood up and press the button, waiting for the doors to open.
People on the other side are waiting for me to get off before they can get on.
Raindrops hit my face as soon as my feet hit the asphalt. The rain is heavier here. I put my umbrella up and start walking out of the station.
I’ve just exited when my feet skid to a stop.
Kas.
His car is parked here, outside the station, like last time.
God, can’t this guy just leave me alone?
I focus on my anger and ignore the little spark I feel at him actually being here.
The passenger window opens, and I see him lean over as he calls my name.
He looks good. And warm and dry inside his car.
Bastard.
I scowl at him. Then, I swivel on my heel and start walking in the direction of the estate.
I’m practically marching, my boots splashing through puddles as I go.
I hear his car pull up alongside me. But I don’t look at it. I refuse to.
Kas does not exist to me.
“Daisy.”
Nope, not talking to him. I don’t care if it is childish.
He’s a Kas-hole, and I have every right to be pissed.
He left me in that restroom last night with my bra hanging out of my dress after, yet again, kissing me, and then he disappeared without a word.
“Daisy, get in the car.”
Did you hear something?
Nope, me neither.
I start humming Pharrell Williams’s “Happy” and pick up my pace.
“Jesus, just get in the car, will you? It’s pissing down, and you’re getting soaked.”
Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.
I hear a huff of frustration and then, “For fuck’s sake, Daisy, stop being childish, and just get in the fucking car.”
Um…
What. The. Hell?
Anger brings my feet to a stop.
I see in my peripheral that his car has also stopped.
Don’t look. Don’t do it. Don’t give him what he wants. He’s just trying to get a rise out of you.
Taking a deep breath in, I blow it out through my nose.