Desperately Devastated (Addicted To You, Book Nine) by Covington Lucy

Author:Covington, Lucy [Covington, Lucy]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2013-10-20T21:00:00+00:00

***

After my third beer, I was feeling better.

Well, better wasn’t the right word. Maybe I just stopped giving a fuck.

I left the first bar and made my way outside and started walking again, determined to find something quick and easy to eat. I was hungry but I wanted to keep drinking.

There was a hot dog stand on the corner of one street and I bought three hot dogs.

I paid the guy and stood right next to his stand, eating them. They were good, smothered in ketchup and mustard. I chowed them down in a matter of minutes and turned back, handing him another ten-dollar bill. I held up three fingers.

The guy nodded, smiling. “You have big appetite,” he said, in heavily accented English.

“That I do,” I replied. I pulled out my phone, then remembered that I’d turned it off so as not to even worry about whether or not Lindsay was trying to call me.

If she was calling me, I didn’t want to impulsively answer out of weakness. If she didn’t try and contact me, I would be furious and want to call or text her to tell her off.

Either way, the phone was a no-no right then.

I put it away and took my three freshly made hot dogs and ate them almost as quick as the first three.

After that, I wandered until I found yet another bar to help me continue dulling the pain. The next place I found was the proper setting for me. It wasn’t a tourist trap or a place for hipsters—it was a real neighborhood type joint. It was the kind of place I would have gone if I lived around there.

The lighting was dim, there was a pool table, a few old barflies sitting at the bar looking like a stiff breeze might knock them off their stools.

Nearby, a group of four girls with lots of makeup, poofy hairdos and exposed cleavage were drinking shots and talking in loud voices.

They started checking me out the second I walked in, but I pretended not to notice. Of course, I didn’t mind them checking me out—after the way Lindsay had treated me back at the hotel, a little ego boost felt nice.

I sat down at the bar and ordered a pitcher of beer.

“How many glasses for the pitcher?” the female bartender asked.

“Just one.”

She gave me a look, as if to say, are you going to be trouble for me tonight?

I smiled. “Pretty please?”

She laughed. “Just don’t make them carry you out of here on a stretcher.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“I’ll take him home with me,” one of the cleavage chicks called out from nearby.

Everyone laughed at that, including me. But I made a point not to start up any conversations. That wasn’t what this was all about.

A minute later, there was a nice cold pitcher of beer in front of me and I’d poured myself a frothy cup. Moments after that, I’d drank down the contents. It hit my stomach and the warmth in my throat felt good.

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