Page 49 of Botched

I feel angry and betrayed. And now I’m doubting myself. Do I even deserve to be here? There must be hundreds of girls who are working their asses off for this opportunity and I only have it because of Theo. Not because of all the work I’ve put in over the years or all the sacrifices I’ve made.

He takes a step back, his face softening. “Aurora.”

But there’s nothing I can say to him. I don’t want to fight with him. I don’t want to look at him.

Luck was on my side for once because this stupid pre-tape is the only thing we have to do forRisetonight. I don’t need to be around him.

I turn and leave the room, leaving Theo to do whatever he does when he’s alone. Stroke his own ego. Scroll through dating apps. Whatever.

I storm toward the locker room, wanting to get out of this stupid dress and into something comfortable. Maybe I’ll be able to dip out early. Maybe Jules won’t be busy and we can hang out.

As I turn the corner, I almost run into Austin’s chest. I stop on a dime, but he reaches out to grab my arm, steadying me when I don’t need steadying.

“Whoa there, Rory. You good?”

“Yeah,” I say, definitely not in the mood for conversation right now.

He doesn’t get the hint. “I know I ask every week, but do you want to grab a drink tonight?” he asks. My usual denial is on the tipof my tongue when he adds, “It’s not just us. Micah’s coming out too. So is Jammy.”

I blink slowly. I know Micah. “Who the fuck is Jammy?”

“Jameson.”

Oh. Micah’s right-hand man. Jammy is such a weird nickname. Another denial is right on the tip of my tongue, but a drink sounds good tonight. With everything that’s swirling around in my head, I like the idea of getting a little trashed and not thinking for a few hours.

Especially not about Theo.

So, I shrug my shoulder and give in. “Yeah, sure. I’m in.”

“Great.” Austin grins back at me.

Chapter Thirty-Two

AURORA

Ifeel out of place.

This doesn’t feel like going out for a drink or two with people after an indie show. Those people are friends, almost family. You go through the same struggles; you know them because you are them.

This is going out with three strangers that I don’t know. Jules had something else to do, surprisingly not Hext related. She offered to cancel if I needed her to, but I didn’t want to come off as clingy. I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.

But I feel so…weird. I’m sitting in the corner of the booth of some bar. The guys are laughing and joking, occasionally shooting glances toward me to see if I find their not-so-funny jokes as hilarious as they do. Austin keeps his gaze on me, making me sink into the corner a little bit more.

It’s doing nothing to make me stop thinking about Theo. I’m so angry at him. He got me a job and then threw it in my face. I didn’t ask him to do that. I didn’t ask for anything he’s done.

Fighting with him today is actually bothering me. Wiggling underneath my skin and making me feel…wrong. I keep pulling my phone from my pocket, checking to see if he’s texted me—he hasn’t. Maybe I finally succeeded. Maybe I really did push him away this time.

The thought makes me miserable.

“Waitin’ on a call?” A smooth voice graces my ears, the delicious Australian accent making me perk up to look at Micah Duvall.

Gorgeous is the simplest way to describe Micah. Shoulder-length blond hair that’s usually pulled back at the nape of his neck, stubble, deep blue eyes, and that damn accent. Tattoos line his forearms. There’s a reason people obsess over this man, and it’s not just because of his wrestling skills.

“Sorta. Just…checking,” I mumble, bringing my drink to my lips and taking a small sip. I’m not even sure what it is. Austin keeps buying them for me. Something with peach juice and tequila, maybe?

Micah takes a sip of his beer, nodding. “Checkin’, ah.” He looks around us for a moment. Austin and Jameson are up, heading over to the pool table. He doesn’t follow, he stays right by me. “Somethin’s wrong, sweetling,” he says. “Austin’s been tryin’ to get ya to come out every night for the last month. Why now?”

Theo isn’t the only person who can see right through me. Maybe I’m just much more translucent than I thought I was. “Just wanting to not think for a little bit.” This time, when I go to take a sip from my drink, I keep the straw between my lips and sip from it continuously, needing the alcohol to hit.