EIGHTEEN
For a long time, Xan stared at the tiny bottle of bourbon from the hotel's mini-bar. It wasn't big enough to deaden the pain tonight. She'd have to go to the bar if that's what she wanted. Hauling herself to her feet, Xan peered at her reflection. Bloodshot eyes and a red nose from crying too much. Jerome didn't deserve a single tear from her, but she'd shed thousands in the nights since she'd learned of his betrayal. The cowardly bastard hadn't even tried to apologise – he hadn't called or emailed or even sent her a damn text message. Did he know how many hot men she'd turned down during her trip? A veritable army of Flying Frog Men. Being faithful to that faithless toad. She could've had hot s*x every night of the week instead of just imagining it.
Xan burst out laughing. As
