Page 16 of Someone Exactly Like Me (Wounded Hearts 1)
4
Nicco
I walk out to the terrace attached to our suite to have a cigarette and take in the view of the city. Getting the lighter out of my pants pocket, I flip it over in my hand a couple times, losing myself in the worn design as I rub my thumb across it, the way I’ve done thousands of times before. It’s the only piece of my dad I have left. I think he would be proud of me, of what I’ve accomplished and made of myself. But there’s so much more I want to do.
Mindlessly taking a cigarette out of the pack, I clasp it between my lips. Swallowing the lump that’s choking my throat, I flick open my lighter and watch the flame dance. Touching the dancing flame to the end of the cigarette, I watch it ignite. Sucking in deeply, I let the first drag fill my lungs with the toxic, beautiful gray death that took my dad from me.
Another inhale flows from my core out to my arms and legs, relaxing me as I stare out into the twinkling lights of the city. Los Angeles, L.A., Hollywood, the American dream. I don’t know how yet, but I’m going to make it happen. I’m going to work my fucking ass off and make the right connections to build my American dream, right here in Hollywood.
Visions of my dream-life fill my head. A lavish home, luxury cars, parties with celebrities — the high life. A twinge of emptiness hollows a hole in my heart knowing I’ll experience all of this alone. Another drag to fill the hole and blur the thought with a haze of smoke.
Loneliness is the cross I bear. One I’ve become accustomed to carrying. Though Destiny may be right and the world sees me as a playboy, it’s the only way I know how to fulfill my needs given the impossibility of ever having love.
After Ana, I understood my only value to women and I’ve kept my relationships with them purely sexual. I get my needs met, they get their needs met, nothing more. I know how to fuck. And I’m really good at it. Sure, it’s empty and meaningless, but it serves its purpose.
I’m used to women readily spreading their legs for me. Something tells me Destiny isnotthe kind of woman I’m used to. This woman non-verbally commands respect. I have a feeling when I earn my way between Destiny’s legs, it’s going to be very different and hot as fuck.
She’s a feisty little thing. Though I know my truth and it’s what I’ve come to accept, something about her view of me disturbs me deep inside. In a place I burned and exiled four years ago.
Destiny. She amuses me. She intrigues me. And now she’s challenged me. Though part of me wants to convince her I’m more than what she perceives, I’m not sure I’m capable of following through. Proving that I’m not just a playboy would mean exposing parts of me I no longer want the world to see. Not now, not ever.
I suck the last glorious drag and tap out my cigarette in the black marble ashtray sitting on the glass-topped table.
She’ll be done by now.
Stepping back into the suite, I don’t see her. Candi is dancing with the group and I go over to her.
“Did Destiny leave?” I ask, raising my voice over the music, hoping she hasn’t left. I’ll be pissed if she left alone in her condition.
She shakes her head. “No. She had to pee and Gigi was in this one so she went down to the public one.” She points through the opening and toward the restroom on the level below.
As Candi continues dancing, I step away from the group and watch for Destiny.
Destiny
After standing in line for about ten minutes, I’m finally hiding in solitude in a stall, regretting that I didn’t stay in the suite and wait for Giovanna to finish, but also relieved to be away from the group, and Nicco.
With my feet sticking to the floor, I try to wrap my head around what transpired during the last hour. With dozens of women ready to be in his company, and in his pants, at the snap of his fingers, why in the world is Nicco wasting his time talking to me? In my fuzzy head, no logical answer comes to mind. As I squat above the toilet, staring down at sassy white shoes that don’t belong to me, the white veins in the black marble beneath my feet begin swirling together. Yup, I’m tipsy. It’s time for me to go home. Before exiting the stall, I take a deep breath and blow it out. This is thirty. Happy birthday.
On my way back to the suite, the same man from earlier steps out in front of me as his friends close in behind me. “Where you goin’ so fast?” he slurs.
Adrenaline shoots through me. “Oh, I’m here with my friends.”Stay calm.I attempt to walk past him, but he steps in front of me again.
“How’s about you get your friends and bring ‘em over here and we’ll all get to know each other?” he asks sloppily as he sways.
“Uh, thanks, but we’re actually leaving,” I say, trying to conceal my trembling.
He tugs at his already loosened necktie. “Aw, come on. It’ll be fun.” He steps toward me and I step back.Shit. Why did I drink so much?
With my next shaky breath, Nicco steps between two of the men and stands directly in front of me, turning his back to me and facing the drunk man. “Is there a problem here?”
“No man, no problem. We’re just talkin’ to her.”
“She’s with me.” He reaches an arm behind himself, holding me against his back. Safety replaces my fear.
“Oh, yeah?” he hurls.
I can’t see what’s happening, but it sounds like the situation is escalating.
