Julian's pov

"Whiskey guy?!"

 She shrieked in that sultry voice of hers. The same voice that had almost made me rethink the idea of kissing her earlier in the club when she had asked me to.

She stared at me in shock. Her drunk brain is trying to process how she ended up in my car. 

"What are you doing in my car?" I tilted my head, observing her through my rear-view mirror.

She blinked, disoriented, then gasped like she realized the gravity of her mistake. 

"No No no no no. You can't be my driver. That's illegal. You're not allowed to be hot and drive."

I arched a brow, resting my palm on the steering wheel. "You're not allowed to hijack a stranger's car."

She bit her lip as she glanced down at her phone, her cognac colored eyes widening slightly. "Oh no. I got into the wrong car." She groaned as she looked up at me.

Her lips were plump and red, complete with a perfectly shaped cupid's bow. 

As I watched her nibble on her lip, the insane urge to kiss her consumed me again, and instantly my dick hardened in response. 

Who was this girl? And could she actually be following me? 

She was beautiful, I couldn't deny that.

She had the kind of body that could bring a man to his knees. Full perky breasts, a slim waist, and the most perfect pair of legs I'd seen in a while.

I had noticed her the moment she stumbled onto the dance floor, half wild, half wrecked. She had moved like someone who wanted to forget something or someone.

Then she had flirted with me at the bar, and it had taken all of my willpower not to hoist her onto the bar and kiss those lips of hers, effectively ruining her for anyone else. 

"Do you make it a habit of stumbling into different rideshares without checking the plates?" 

"Only when emotionally devastated." She deadpanned. "And you didn't lock the door, so... that's on you."

 She paused as though she suddenly remembered something."Oh my God, I guess this is why my motherused to pray so much. To  protect me from something like this."

I couldn't help it, I laughed. Low. Rough and deep.

"So I'm the devil your mother warned you about?"

 "It may seem like it." She eyed me skeptically.

I sighed. "You should get out and find your driver."

She met my gaze in the mirror, and in that moment, I could see the mischief in her eyes. "Or...you could take me somewhere."

I knew what she was asking. But I didn't want to entertain it...Not yet.

 "Why don't I take you home? What's your address?" 

She stiffened at the word Home. "Yeah, no thanks. My ex-fiancé and my ex-best friend are currently defiling my memory on those bedsheets. I'd rather die." 

Jesus. 

Typical case of a woman being cheated on.

"People betray. That's what they do. I learned that a long time ago." I responded.

I looked at her again, really looked this time. 

Beneath the makeup, the sass, and the bad decisions, I could see the broken woman, the hurt woman, the angry woman.

"How long were you with him?" I asked before I could stop myself. 

"Six years," she muttered, then sat back and folded her arms like the question itself cracked something open. "Six years, and he still cheated on me with someone who used to borrow my dresses."

"That's cold."

 She looked away, but not before I saw the first tear slip down."It hurts. It hurts so much. I sacrificed a lot for Liam. Most especially my dreams. And he just... threw it all away." 

"You know what." I begin "There's a hotel two blocks away. Let's get you a room for the night, and tomorrow, when you feel better, you can figure out the next step. Is that cool?" 

She nodded as she wiped her eyes subtly. 

I didn't know why I offered. Hell, I didn't know why I even cared. But I felt this sudden urge to protect her.

To get my hands on Liam and snap him in two. 

Just as I made to drive, she spoke up. 

"Wait!" she shrieked, then leaned forward, her arms braced between the seats. "Can I sit up front? I usually get carsick in the back."

I cocked a brow. I didn't believe her for a second. But I nodded anyway.

She immediately climbed over like she's done it a hundred times, pulling the seatbelt across her chest with a soft click. 

The scent of her perfume hit me, and I became all too aware of how close she was. Too close. Too warm.. Too her.

"So," she said, turning towards me, her eyes glassy. "What's your name?"

"Julian." 

"Julian," she repeated, like she was tasting it. "You sound like a man who ruins lives."

"I've been known to."

 She tilted her head as she bit her lip. "Are you gonna ruin mine?" 

My cock hardened in response.

"You don't know what you're asking for." 

She studied me for a beat, then said, "I do. I want to sleep with you."

 Everything inside me stilled.

"That's the tequila talking."

"No," she said. "The tequila helped me say it. But the part that wants you? That's been screaming since I saw you."

Fuck.

This girl had no idea what she was poking at. 

"You don't want to sleep with me."

 "I do," she insisted, her voice low and breathy. "And I'm not asking for forever. I want tonight. A moment to forget the hurt. Something that reminds me I'm not broken."

"I don't do pity fucks, Kitten. If you sleep with me, it's going to be because you want to remember every inch of me, not to forget some ex."

She swallowed as her eyes darted quickly to the tent that had now formed in my pants.

The air in the car thickened as the sexual tension and weight of unspoken things settled between us.

I should have said no.

I should have driven her to the hotel, handed her a key, and walked away.

But when I looked at her lips-bruised from her teeth, parted and waiting.

I forgot how to be good. 

Just as I moved to shift the car into drive. My hand brushed against her thigh.

Zoella

I took off my heels, clutching them to my chest as I watched Julian speak with the receptionist. 

God, he was a delicious man and looked so much older.

How much older than I could he be? Twelve? Fifteen years? I would be twenty-four in a couple of months, and the man standing beside me looked thirty-eight. 

What on earth was I doing? Am I actually going to do this?

Surrender my body to a stranger for one night of  Sinful pleasure just because I was cheated on?

 As soon as the question formed in my head, my pussy clenched as I watched Julian run a hand through his hair.

 Such a bitch. My cunt was ready to go all the way. She has been panting after this man since we first laid eyes on him.

"Here you go Mr Julian, Room 11a. We'll send your order upstairs right away." 

The voice of the receptionist cut through my thoughts, and I looked over, catching the moment she leaned forward slightly, giving Julian an ample view of her bosom. 

But he paid her no mind as he turned to me, gesturing to the elevator. "After you, Kitten."

I walked ahead of him as we made our way to the elevator. He pressed some buttons, and the elevator started to ascend.

 "So, whiskey girl, what's your name?" He asked as he pinned me with an assessing gaze that made my panties dampen further. 

"Zoella." I bit my lip as I stared up at him. 

"That's a beautiful name." He breathed as he moved closer, caging me to the elevator wall.

The elevator tinged, as the door slid open to reveal a long hallway. Room 11a came into view, and he swiped the keycard, granting us access.

The hotel room was pristine. Warm lighting and crisp white sheets. I should have cared about that, but my attention was wholly swallowed by the man standing a few feet away, peeling off his jacket like a goddamn Calvin Klein ad.

Julian tossed the key card onto the table and unbuttoned his sleeves with a casualness that made my thighs press together.

I blinked out of my horny haze and headed for the minibar.

"Don't even think about it." His voice came low from behind me. A firm warning.

I paused, my fingers inches from a bottle of vodka. "One drink," I argued, peering at him over my shoulder. "It's not illegal."

He walked over to me with a dominance that made the hairs on my arms stand. "No more drinking, Kitten. You've had enough for tonight." 

I turned to him, defiant. "I can handle one more."

"No, you can't." His eyes pinned mine."You handled the last one by getting into the wrong car and trying to seduce a stranger."

I smirked. "It worked, didn't it?" 

He shook his head in amusement. "You don't need another drink. You need to eat. I ordered room service. It should be up soon." 

I narrowed my eyes. "What are you? My babysitter?"

"No." He leaned in, lips inches from mine. But ifIi were, you'd be in a hell of a lot more trouble."

Heat flashed between my thighs.

I stepped around him, brushing my shoulder against his chest deliberately. "Fine. No drink. But only because I'm curious to see what a man like you orders for a broken woman." 

"I'm sure it would be something that'll ease the pain." He said in a soothing voice.

He sounded so gentle, I almost started crying again.

"I can take care of myself, you know."

"I don't doubt that." His tone softened, but his gaze didn't stray from mine. "But tonight? You don't have to."

I blinked. Just once. And that was all it took to feel the cracks widening in my chest.

Before I could spiral, he turned, moving toward the door.

No.

I crossed the room, blocking his exit with my body before I even thought it through.

"Leaving already?" I asked, trying not to sound breathless. "You ordered me food, and now you're just gonna... leave me here?"

He tilted his head. "You said you wanted one night to forget. That doesn't mean I'm obligated to sleep with you."

I smiled, inching closer, letting my fingers graze the hem of his shirt. "No. But what if I want you to?"

"Zoella..." he warned.

I took a step forward, pushing him back a little until his back hit the door. My fingers slid up his shirt, feeling the ridges of muscle beneath. "Why does it feel like you want me to beg?"

His jaw ticked. "I don't take advantage of drunk women."

I smirked. "I'm tipsy and hurt. And maybe a little insane right now," I said with a whisper of laughter. "But I'm not unconscious. I know what I'm asking for."

"And what are you asking for?" he rasped as his gaze dipped to my lips.

"You." I reached for his belt, and he caught my wrist-firm but gentle.

"You really want to do this?" he murmured, his voice rough now, threaded with something dangerously raw.

"Yes." I moved closer until my lips grazed his jaw. "I want to forget him. I want to feel wanted."

He stared down at me, breathing hard.

Then I felt it. Him. Hard beneath his slacks, pressed against me. It gave me courage.

I reached between us again, bolder this time, tracing the outline of him.

His breath hitched.

And then I grinned. "How big is it?"

His groan was low, feral. "Zoella..."

But I just smiled up at him, teasing and unapologetic. "Just curious what I'm signing up for."

He grabbed my wrist-firm but gentle. His eyes were wild now, the control he'd fought so hard to hold onto crumbling. 

He traced a finger across my lips as I stared up at him. "If I kiss you, Zoella...If I touch you... I won't stop until I've completely ruined you for every other man."

 My knees nearly buckled.

I leaned in and pressed my lips to his jaw, whispering against his skin. "Ruin me then. Please?"

He inhaled sharply. And before my mind could register what was happening, he grabbed my butt, hoisted me u,p and crashed his lips to mine.

Shattering my world completely.

Zoella's pov

  Next Morning

   Sunlight punched through the curtains, dragging me out of my sleepy haze. 

        My head was pounding. It felt like I had been run over by a truck and abandoned by the side of the road. The pounding wasn't just physical; it was emotional, too.

        I winced, dragging the sheets tighter around my body and over my face as I stirred on the king-sized bed. 

        The first thing I noticed, besides the pounding in my head, was that I was alone.

        The second? I was very naked beneath the covers. 

        My heart skidded in my chest as I lifted the blanket slowly and peeked down at my naked frame.

        Did we...? 

        Did I?

        I sat up slowly, like my skull might fall off if I moved too fast, and took stock of the room.

        My dress from the night before was folded neatly on the armchair, like someone had cared just enough to not leave it crumpled on the floor, but not enough to stick around and say goodbye.

        There was a tray of untouched food on the table-croissants, scrambled eggs, and a steaming mug of something that no longer steamed.

        But no Julian.

         Was that even his real name?

        No note. No goodbye. Just the faint memory of him lingering in the air-his cologne and whatever the hell he did to me last night that made my thighs sore and my heart confused.

        My head throbbed as I tried to piece it together: We kissed. Or at least, I think we did. I remembered pressing against him... the feel of his mouth near my ear... his voice low and dangerous, the feel of his huge cock as I stroked it. And then-

        Blank.

        Shit. 

        I couldn't even remember if I had managed to come at least. 

        For fucks sake, Zoe. First time cheating and you don't even have a memory to savor?

        I buried my face in my hands. Had I thrown myself at him and blacked out mid-seduction?

        Maybe he stopped things before they went too far. That seemed like something a man like Julian would do. Rational, cold, and in control.

        Ugh.

        I pressed a hand to my forehead, and that's when it hit me.

        Not the memory of Julian's lips or whatever we may or may not have done.

        No.

        Liam.

        As a rusty blade shoved through my chest, the memory of him came flooding back-his mouth on Madison, his hands where they had no business being, the betrayal lighting up behind my eyes like a bomb. 

        The best friend and the fiancé. That would make a good movie title.

        My life is exploding like a poorly written soap opera.

        I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to shut out the image, but it was like trying to unsee porn. It was branded in my brain.

        God, I could still hear him.

        "Zoe, it's not what it looks like."

        Sure. Because your tongue just tripped and accidentally fell into her mouth, Liam.

        I huffed out a breath and rolled my eyes at the ceiling. "Men. Even at their worst, they're still impressively stupid."

        I climbed out of bed and got dressed in last night's dress as my mind raced with several thoughts. The top of which was.

        Where do I go from here?

        •••••

        Later That Morning.

        The cab was too quiet. Even with the radio humming low and the driver mumbling into his headset, everything around me felt... muted. 

        Like I'd been dunked underwater.

        I pressed my forehead to the window, the cool glass a small relief from the heat crawling up my neck. My hands were balled tight in my lap, my fingernails digging crescents into my palms. 

        I didn't even realize I was shaking until I looked down and saw the tremors run through me like aftershocks.

        How could he do this to me?

        A single tear slipped down my cheek, and I didn't bother wiping it away. More followed anyway, so there was no point.

        It wasn't just the cheating that hurt.

        It was the betrayal.

        Liam.

        Fiancé. Cheat. Coward. Walking cliché.

        I stared out the window, watching New York fly by. My stomach twisted as the thought of going back to that house hit me again.

        We bought it together. My name is on the documents. My money went into that place.

         My Pinterest boards picked out the damn curtains. I wasn't about to let a lying, gaslighting dickbag chase me out of my own home.

        I gave him love, patience, and loyalty.

        And he gave my best friend his body.

        A sob clawed up my throat,t and I pressed the back of my hand against my mouth to silence it. 

        I caught the driver staring at me from his rearview mirror. 

        Perhaps a crying woman who smelled like tequila wasn't what he saw every day. 

        Just then, my phone buzzed with a new message. 

        I turned it off last night. Not wanting to be bothered by the weight of phone calls or messages. 

        But now it was on, and I couldn't escape reality anymore.

         I glanced down at the phone. It was Liam. I opened it and saw the thread of messages.

        Liam: 'Zoe. Please, I'm sorry. I'm trying to reach you, but your calls all keep going to voicemail.' 9:00 pm

        Liam: 'Zo Please come home so we can talk about this. I never meant to hurt you. It was a mistake, and I was drunk. '

        10:40 pm

        Liam: 'Zoe, please i'm really worried. Please call or text back. I promise this will never happen again.'

       11:50 p.m.

        My eyes scrolled down to the most recent.

        Liam: 'Zo, please let me make it up to you. I called all night, but no response. I drove around the neighborhood, but there was no sign of you. I'm waiting outside. I love you,u please come home.' 

        7:40 am

        I turned off my phone in disgust. 

        A mistake? 

        Drunk? 

        My heart pounded so hard I thought it might give out right there in the back of the Uber. 

        But through the pain and disgust I felt, which was sharp and bone-deep, a new emotion crept in like smoke.

        Rage. 

        The nerve of that man. 

        My first reaction yesterday was to run.

         But no, I wasn't going to run.

        I wasn't going to beg him to love me again or forgive him. 

        A wicked smile crept across my lips as an idea suddenly struck me. 

        No. I was going to pretend.

        I was going to perform.

        If Liam wanted a good girl, he shouldn't have made me the villain.

        I had a plan. Oh, it was petty. It was delicious. It was me.

        First, I'd tell him I forgave him. I'd play the role of the heartbroken woman who just couldn't bear to throw everything away. 

        Who still wanted to hold onto her home and her man.

        I'd let him believe he still had me.

        And just when he relaxes and lets his guard down, when he thinks he still has me wrapped around his disgusting fingers. I'd rip the mask off and hurt him the way he hurt me, embarrass him the way he had embarrassed me.

        Let's see if that apology still tastes the same when it's laced with public shame.

        I sat straighter, smoothed my hair back like a woman with purpose.

        The car pulled into our driveway.

        And there he was.

        Waiting by the door like a sad puppy who'd chewed through his leash and knew the vet was coming.

        I wasn't leaving my house. He would be the one to leave.

        I stepped out of the car on shaking legs, wiping my face quickly with my sleeves. I didn't want him to see me broken.

        "Zoe," he breathed. "Thank God. I-I didn't know where you were. I called, I texted-I was losing my mind-"

        I kept walking. Past him and straight to the door.

        He trailed behind me like a shadow.

        "Zoe, please. I'm sorry. I was drunk, I didn't even know what I was doing. Madison came onto me. It wasn't supposed to happen-she kept saying you didn't love me anymore, and I-God, I messed up."

        I didn't respond. I didn't even look at him. My key jammed slightly in the lock. I forced it in and pushed the door open.

        Inside, it felt like the air itself had turned stale and cold. It smelled like a cheating fiancé and a backstabbing friend. 

        The home I built had turned into a battlefield overnight.

        I dropped my bag on the floor and went straight to the fridge. My throat was dry, my mouth tasted like tequila and something else I couldn't name.

        I opened the fridge, grabbed the water bottle, and poured it into a glass with hands that still trembled. I needed to feel something steady.

        Something that didn't lie or sleep with my best friend.

        Behind me, Liam was still talking. Still begging.

        "I love you, Zoe. I swear to God, I love you. Please... please don't give up on us. I'll do anything. I'll block her. I'll go to therapy. I'll never touch a drop of alcohol again. I'll-"

        I turned around slowly, glass in hand.

        His eyes were red. He looked like he hadn't slept. He looked like hell.

        Good.

        "I forgive you," I said quietly with a slow, practiced fake smile.

        His shoulders sagged in relief, but just like he realised what I had said, he blinked. "Wait, you do?"

        "Yes, Liam. I blame Madison. I always knew she wanted you." I added, my voice sickly sweet. "She came onto you, right? You were drunk, so she seduced you. So really, this is her fault. Right?"

        He nodded eagerly. "Yes-yes. Exactly. She manipulated everything." 

        Fool.

        I smiled bitterly, taking a long sip of water. "Of course she did. I should have caught her off the moment I noticed her always ogling you."

         "Yes, Zo. She wasn't to be trusted. She has always been jealous of you," he rushed out in an attempt to placate me, but all it ended up doing was make him look foolish. 

        "It's okay. Now I know better. Let's just move on."I flashed him that smile again.

        But inside, something in me snapped into place as my heart pounded in my chest, the need for revenge growing hotter.

        I would stay. For now.

        And when the time came?

        I would break him the way he broke me.

        Because one thing was certain.

        I wasn't just going to move on.

        I was going to make him wish he had moved on instead of asking for forgiveness.