Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“You were wasted, Ari.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I swear, I didn’t drink. I had a Coke. That was it.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me!” he roars, making me jump. “You can’t fucking deny this, Ari! It’s all over the internet! Jesus!”
“What? I don’t understand.”
My cell still in his hand, he taps the screen. A moment later, he hands it to me. It’s a gossip news website; a video is on the screen, ready to watch.
“Press play.” His voice is arctic.
I press play, and the video comes to life. It’s dark and grainy. Like it was captured on a cell phone. But it’s me, stumbling down a hall and into the party. Bumping into some guy and almost falling over. Then, it cuts to a cab, me falling out of it. Staggering up the steps into my building, and then it ends.
I swipe the screen down to read the headline.
BAD GIRL GONE BADDER!
Looks like Arianna Petrelli—daughter of Giants coach, Eddie Petrelli, and current girlfriend of Giants quarterback, Ares Kincaid—has gone back to her partying ways. She was seen drunk and stumbling around a charity event she was attending on behalf of the team.
One partygoer said, “She was drinking all night. Making a real show of herself. Flirting up a storm with some guy who definitely wasn’t Ares Kincaid.”
A staff member who was working the bar and served Petrelli numerous times confirmed this, saying she ordered “at least five vodka and Cokes.”
A source from the Giants tells us that Kincaid will be furious with this news.
Let’s hope Petrelli can get herself back to rehab and finally leave her partying days behind her.
Check out the video for actual footage.
“I…” I stare up at Ares. “I don’t understand.”
“I do. It’s pretty fucking clear, isn’t it?”
“No…not to me, it’s not. I don’t know what happened.”
He lets out a humorless laugh. “You don’t know what happened? Right…” he says disbelievingly.
“I’m telling you that I don’t know.”
“So, the vodka just jumped up and leaped down your throat.”
“I didn’t drink vodka.”
“Don’t fucking lie!” he yells again.
“I’m not lying!” I yell back, not even caring that it’s making my head thump and my throat sorer. “I didn’t drink anything but Coke last night. One Diet Coke.”
“Who was the guy?”
“What guy?”
His eyes are dark, impenetrable with anger. “The guy you were flirting up a storm with.”
“Leo.” I move away from the door, toward him, my expression pleading with him to believe me. “But I wasn’t flirting with him. He got me a Coke, and we chatted for a bit. Ask him if you don’t believe me.”
“Leo, the journalist guy?”
“Yes.”
He laughs, and I frown.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.” He stares at me. “Not one fucking thing is funny about this.”
“I didn’t drink…I swear to you.”
His jaw tightens, eyes flaring.
“I just had a Coke. Nothing else. Then, I started to feel weird, so I went to the restroom, and I-I just felt…off. I checked my drink to make sure there was no booze in it, and I couldn’t smell anything. But I was woozy. I couldn’t walk. I don’t know what happened. Someone must’ve spiked my drink.” I suddenly realize.
Ares takes a step closer to me. “You know…if you’d told me that you relapsed, I would’ve understood. Helped you. But…no…you just can’t admit it, can you?” He drops his arms by his sides. “I thought you were different than my dad.” He shakes his head. “But you’re just the same.”
“No!” There’s consternation in my voice. “I’m telling you the truth.”
“I don’t believe you!” he roars.
Those four words are like a punch to the chest.
And they hurt like hell.
The ensuing silence in the room is deafening.
My throat is thick with tears.
“I’m going to ask you one last time. I’m giving you this opportunity to tell me the truth. Did you get drunk last night?”
I swallow back the tears and wrap my arms around myself. “No,” I say quietly, shaking my head. Because I won’t lie. I promised him the truth always, and that’s what I’m giving him.
He exhales a harsh breath, shoving his hand through his hair. Then, he starts across the room, walking past me.
“Where are you going?” I can’t hide the fear in my voice, and I don’t want to.
“I’m just…done.”
“Done?” My heart leaps in panic. “Ares…please.”
“No, Ari. There’s no coming back from this. I refuse to be with you and have you lie to my face.”
“I’m not lying!” Tears spill down my cheeks.
“Stop!” he bellows, silencing me. “We’re done. Don’t call me. Don’t come to see me. In fact…just forget I ever existed because that’s what I intend to do with you.”
Then, he’s gone.
And I’m standing here, in shock, my phone still in my hand.
Confusion, hurt, and pain spill through me.
I stare down at the video.
I didn’t drink.
Someone had to have given me something…
Put something in my drink.
Like what?
Date rape drug.
No…
But there’s no other explanation.