“Get off, Libby!” he slur-yelled as he tried to shield himself.
“You shoved me!” Smack. “You shoved me.” Smack. “Me!” Smack. “The one person who has always had your back. I don’t care how drunk or pathetic you are. If you ever do that again, I am done with you!”
“So be done with me!”
He glared and I glared back. Him with that pitiful nobody-loves-me pout, and me with my death stare, my face probably so red with anger that I looked like a bitter radish.
I turned to face front again and plopped back into my seat. “Grow up, Sean.”
The ten-minute drive to the hotel was filled with frigid silence. Randy glanced back several times, but I didn’t bother meeting his eyes. I wasn’t in the mood for apologetic, commiserating looks right now. When the car came to a stop in the parking garage, I got out and didn’t look back. Randy and Tucker could manhandle Sean out of the car and into the elevator. I stalked away, jamming my finger into the elevator button while rage roiled inside me. Getting Sean out of these situations was always a pain, but he’d never treated me so badly before.
I could hear them behind me as Sean tried to throw off their help. They came up alongside me just as the elevator doors opened. I stepped in, still refusing to even look at Sean as we rode up to the presidential suite. His stupid hotel room was three times the size of my apartment, and one night probably cost three months’ rent.
It didn’t matter. My apartment was fine, and this was just the way Sean’s life was. Money, opulence, and very little substance.
I was the first off of the lift that opened directly into the suite’s little lobby area. I waited stiffly while Randy came forward with the key that opened the french doors.Then I crossed straight to the phone, dialing the number for room service and ordering the most expensive thing on the menu. It was spiteful and pointless. The record label would pay for it. But I was hungry.
I let the receiver settle into its cradle and leaned my hands into the pretty table on which it sat as I half listened to Randy giving Sean instructions and reminders for the next day. He wouldn’t remember it, but I knew Randy would text all the info to both Sean and me after he left.
The door clicked shut and my body battled between complete rage and utter disappointment.
The sound of Sean falling into a chair reached my ears just before he spoke up. “Not a bad night, huh?”
I turned on him, my nostrils flared and my fingers curled into claws. “ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?” I screamed. “Do you think this is fun for me?”
His eyes raked over me, over the flirty dress and full makeup. He was entering the everything-is-just-fine phase of being drunk. “You look nice.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Gee, thanks for noticing. I was on a date, Sean. And I had to leave in the middle of it. That was really fun to try to explain.”
His glazed-over look snapped into focus for a few seconds. “You didn’t bring my name into—”
I hurled my purse at him. “Of course I didn’t say it was you. I never do. And it sucks because I can’t explain. I had to tell him that a friend had an emergency and needed me, and when he offered to drop everything and drive me, I had to make up some lame excuse about why I couldn’t accept his very kind offer. You made me look like an idiot, Sean. Again.”
“Then why did you come?” he asked like a petulant five-year-old.
I closed my eyes and pressed my lips, gathering my patience. “Because you won’t ever listen to anyone else. If you would just grow up and leave when Randy asks you to, they wouldn’t have to call me.”
“Just because they call doesn’t mean you have to come.”
“If you think I’m going to let you bulldoze your reputation, then you don’t know me very well.”
He slumped down into the couch, getting more comfortable. “I know everything about you, Libby.”
Yes. Yes, he did. “Then why do you keep doing this? Are you trying to hurt me?”
He frowned at me. “I’m not doing anything to you.”
“Then why am I here?”
“Because my manager thinks I need a babysitter.”
“Don’t pretend to be ignorant, Sean. You knew exactly how this would play out. You knew he would call me. You knew I would come get you—just like every other time.”
He leaned his head back and talked toward the ceiling. “You didn’t have to come.”
He was right. I didn’t. But I loved him too much to let him self-destruct. I blinked hard several times and blew out a breath. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to be your friend sometimes?”
He rolled his head upright and took a second to focus on my face. Then he smiled. The smile he used when he was trying to charm someone. “Aw, come on,” he said as he pulled himself to his feet. “There are tons of perks to being my friend.”
I scoffed. “Yes, because I just love being walked all over. I love being in a friendship that sucks me dry. A hot guy takes me out tonight and I have to flake out to go drag your sorry butt out of a bar! At least if I were your girlfriend I’d be getting something romantic out of this relationship. But no. Instead I’m just the girl who you get to walk all over because I love you too much to abandon you.”
My hostile rant seemed to sail right over his head. He made an attempt at a sultry smile and stumbled toward me, backing me against the wall as he made an attempt to nuzzle my neck. “I could do romantic.”
Sean making a move on me was so startling that I kneed him in the crotch. He doubled over before falling to the floor. I just stood over him, my disgust with the situation reaching levels thus far unexplored in our relationship. I didn’t know what to make of this new development. Was he more drunk than normal? Was this a new tactic to piss me off and push me away?
“What did you do that for?” he moaned.
“I’m not going to bother answering that, since you clearly won’t remember this tomorrow.” I wanted to scream my answers at him, but I harnessed all my zen energy and determined that I’d save it for later. If I was going to expend a bunch of energy chewing him out, I wanted him to be good and sober when I did. “You need to shower. You stink.” I stepped over him as he continued to writhe on the floor and walked through the huge master suite and into the bathroom, turning on the shower before I went to rummage through his clothes. I pulled out boxers and athletic shorts, setting them on the edge of the tub since he’d no doubt fall into bed right after I forced him to clean himself.
As the pathetic state of my life washed over me, I sank down onto the bed, pressing a hand to my forehead. Oh, how the mighty had fallen. Not that I’d ever been mighty, but I certainly never thought I’d be reduced to mothering my rich and famous best friend.
Too bad I had no one to blame but myself. After all, I was the one who’d made him record his songs. I was the one who convinced him he needed to make music videos and create a YouTube channel. When the views started piling up and the record label came calling, I’d practically signed the contract for him. I’d thought the world needed his music, and that he needed success. I’d thought it would be good for him.
I heard the hiss of his breath moving through his teeth before he appeared in the doorway, still limping. Maybe I should have felt bad. I didn’t.