I tilted my head as if we were having a philosophical conversation. I whipped out my hand and took back my panties, studying them with fake curiosity. “Are we revisiting Sixteen Candles? Did you need proof?”
He muttered something vile under his breath and took a step forward. I jumped back. If he touched me, I’d be sick. I needed to get myself through this scene, calm and civilized, so he’d never know how badly he hurt me. He didn’t get to know that ever.
“You don’t get it. Forget the bet. What’s going on with the bartender?”
Puzzled, I stared at him. My God, was that what it was about? He made a bet to get me into bed and thought he’d whipped me good to parade me in front of his friends. Was he taking flak from his buddies about me flirting with the bartender? The pieces of the puzzle came together. I felt even sicker. Hands trembling, I put down my drink and drew on every last reserve of strength to get the hell out of this place in one piece.
“Austin?”
He sneered. “So quick to get on a first-name basis. Guess I got taken in by the good girl image. Figured you’d sneak in an extra fling before you go home? Another conquest for you to laugh about with your girls on the plane ride home?”
He didn’t even realize I saw him so clearly. He’d fallen for me, but he was too chickenshit to admit it. Much easier to think I’d screw around with other guys than deal with a real relationship. He had no idea what real was. And dear God, he’d made a bet...
My voice remained calm. “You’d love that wouldn’t you? It would make you feel superior, and ease your guilt about making a bet to get me into bed. What were the terms, by the way?”
“Never mind,” he growled.
I directed my attention to Rich and Adam. “Tell me the truth. For God’s sakes, the jig is up. Might as well spill.”
Rich was drunk enough to listen to me. “Get you into bed by the end of the week. If he lost, we got his motorcycle.”
Humiliation slithered like snakes in my gut. “And if he won?”
Rich cleared his throat. “We hook him up with Whit Bennigan as his mentor. He’s a famous artist.”
I’d heard the name and knew he was making a huge reputation in the art world. I forced a smile. “Well, good, at least you got something respectable out of it. I do wish you luck with your art career. I better go and leave you all to celebrate.”
James grabbed my arm. His touch sizzled, but I bared my teeth, not able to handle the contact. “Don’t. I was never gonna go through with it.”
I tried to control my shaking. “Oh, I get it. You never actually said the words to your buddies, ‘yes, it’s a bet.’ Did you?” Silence. “Did you say it, James? Tell me.”
“I-I-I. Fuck. I said it, but I didn’t mean it.”
My blood ran cold. “Got it. Thanks for the clarification. Now let go of me.” He dropped his hand and looked frantic, pushing his hands through his hair.
“Please, Quinn, it’s not what you think. The bet. I never went through with it. Who’s Austin?”
Oh no. It wasn’t going to be that easy for him. I smiled. “A friend. He’s cutting off your tequila, by the way, so you may need to find another party place.”
Adam waved his hand in the air and began laughing. “Let her go, James. She’s probably like her famous friend, Mackenzie Forbes. Puts on a good act, but screws everyone behind the scenes.”
The second jolt of horror punched me back. “What are you talking about? How do you know about her?” The betrayal was too much. The bet was bad enough, but breaking my trust was beyond forgiveness.
Adam laughed harder. “Did you really think you could hide America’s Sweetheart? She’s a country music star. At least I got some money out of it.”
I shook with fury. “What are you talking about?” I whispered. “Oh my God. Was it you? You sicced the reporters on her?”
“Just one. Got a good payoff though.”
James grabbed him by his shirt collar and shook him hard. “What the f**k did you do, Adam?”
“Get off me, dude. You’re nuts!” He stumbled back. “I’ll put you in the cut of money if you want. Damn, you’re so f**king touchy lately.”
James met my gaze. His eyes pleaded for me to understand. “I never told them, Quinn,” he stated. “I swear to God.”
It was too much. Too many lies to take. I needed to escape before I burst into tears. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m outta here.”
“Quinn—”
“Don’t follow me, James. I mean it.”
I turned and pushed my way past the crowds. I stumbled out on Duval Street, but I’d only taken a few steps before someone grabbed by arm. I yanked away, trying to beat James off me, but the sound of Cassie’s voice broke through.
“Sweetie, it’s me. What happened? Oh God, are you okay?”
A sob caught in my throat, and suddenly, I was in my friend’s arms for a comforting hug. “He made a bet, Cass. A bet to get me into bed, and I had no idea. I thought I’d fallen for him.”
A blistering array of curse words rose up to my ears. Cassie squeezed me tight. “I’ll kill him. Wait here and I’ll be right back.”
A broken laugh escaped and I hung on to her. “No, he’s not worth it. Oh God, I’m a mess. And there’s more. His stupid friend blabbed about Mac to the press. The paparazzi are swarming her right now—Austin tipped me off. Mac probably thinks he did it, but it was James. Did you know about this?”
Cassie pulled back and gasped. “This is a mess. No, I haven’t heard anything yet. What should we do?”
I sniffed and tried to get my head on straight. My heart was already in tiny pieces, but I needed to concentrate on my friend. “Listen, I’m going up to her room. Austin said she was holed up.”
Cassie looked worried and glanced back at the bar like there was something important going on. Or someone. “Want me to come with you?”
“No, stay. I don’t think Mac needs both of swooping in if she’s trying to lay low. And I need some time to process.”
She looked torn, and shifted from foot to foot. “I don’t know. I hate leaving both of you alone when all this stuff is going on.”
I squeezed her hands. “Cassie, go back to the bar. For God’s sakes, one of us has to have a good wrap-up to this week. I’ll check in with Mac and we’ll be fine. Text us later.”