The Wildcard

Chapter Twenty Four

I chose a red and white polka dot number – the corset bodice moulding my tits almost up to my chin, and, if it wasn't for the mountain of netting underneath the flimsy satin of its skirt, you'd realise that there was barely enough material to cover my ass. My long blonde hair, though hardly ever particularly controllable, was almost matted to my skull – I blow dried the front quarter of my head into a glamorous victory roll and then pulled the rest into a heavy, high ponytail, leaving the mass to dry into the loose, springy curls of its natural style.

I downed yet another vodka and diet coke, just waiting for the numbness to come.

I had to scrap my make-up, angrily wiping away the traces of mascara tears off my cheeks with a face wipe. If the only way to ever leave her behind was exactly how I'd been playing it before, then so be it. No amount of counselling or therapy could ever give me any other answer.

The numbness wasn't coming; I felt like he was everywhere, now, and he wasn't letting it happen.

It must have been at least twenty minutes later when Ryan appeared in the mirror – I was sat at my makeshift dressing table – Mac and Benefit compacts littering almost every corner of table space in front of me. I'd decided to go for a "natural" look (complete with false eyelashes and three different mixes of foundation) and was just about to swipe on the classic startling "dangerous" shade of red onto my lips, but had to pull the colour away from my mouth to give a slight whistle of appreciation at the sight of him. Ryan always managed to pull off the best looks – he was basically a born model. But this – well this look was really something else!

"London's really doing a little something, something for your look," I murmured, my eyes leering over him in pale fitted chinos, and a slim fitting black long sleeved tee with a checked frayed sleeve shirt thrown over the top, "You seem to be pulling off the perfect blend of bad boy charm, and that whole 'I am probably going to ruin you girl, but you'll need to bring me a beer and fall to your knees first' look. I can see this being interesting!"

"Well, I won't argue with that!" he winked at me sexily, yet again reminding me why women all over did usually drop to their knees for him – he was a special brew, my best friend, he could make you feel like the centre of his universe even while he was picking up some digits from the other side of the room. He was a player, yes, but he didn't need tricks and lies – no matter what, he was always straight to the letter. Every woman who ever tangled with him knew what she was getting into, even if she dreamed of so very much more.

Just like me and Cayden, I guess.

Except I hadn't even realised what I was doing, because I was too wrapped up in him ... until it was much, much too late. We came from different worlds, how could it ever work? It wasn't fair to anyone to have to deal with all these demons I had ... I had to set him free before I got hurt. No doubt, he would move on soon enough. Yes, so the sex was phenomenal, and I knew no man could ever come close to making me feel the way that Cayden did ... but he would just move on once the novelty was gone, he could have anyone – he wouldn't just settle for me ... not really. At least this way, I still had my dignity. I'd made the right decision for both of us, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt like a bitch.

Ryan must have seen my lip quiver, because he suddenly bounded across the room to take my chin, "Get that lipstick on, Princess, there's a taxi on the way, and we're ready to rock and roll. No room for misery on the rest of this evening's schedule..."

Ten minutes later, my patent leather red Ted Baker heels were clip-clopping against the pavement as I climbed into the taxi.

Ryan was still about town – playing the social butterfly even after we moved over here to start ourselves a new life – so he knew the best spots for the night life in London. So far, since coming here, I really didn't have a clue. I'd really been throwing myself into work – and my every thought was consumed with Cayden. I'd really been trying to get away from this type of lifestyle... I'd been trying to be someone I wasn't, I reminded myself, as a wave of sadness swept over me. I could never really get past it. Throwing back my shoulders, I climbed out of the cab as Ryan paid the driver – tottering across to the back of the queue to the club. It looked packed full of young, sexy, twenty-somethings, exactly the type of place I'd expect Ryan to bring me to – I could basically feel the vibrations of the bass from the pounding dance tunes inside shuddering into the concrete beneath my feet.