Heart in my throat, I leave the dance floor, trying to put as much distance between Ryan and me as possible. Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past him to follow after me. But I don’t look back. Somehow, I fear it might hurt more to see he’s not following me. Tears sting my eyes, blurring my vision, as I duck out of the first open door I see. The moment the cool L.A. air hits my lungs, I suck in a ragged breath. “Fuck,” I whimper, hating how easy it is for Ryan to turn me into such a mess. I’m just tired. That’s what this is. And I’m probably a little drunk. Nothing some sleep and a few Advil can’t
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