Wild Nights With My Brother’s Ex-Best Friend novel Chapter 58

Chapter 58

ROMAN

My eyes snap open abruptly, only to close again almost immediately. A sharp, pounding headache blossoms behind my temples, and I groan softly as I shift onto my side, trying to piece together where the hell I am and why my head feels like it’s about to split apart. The room is dim, the faint morning light filtering through thin curtains, casting long shadows across the cluttered floor.

Then it hits me—the chaotic end to last night, the way everything spiraled out of control. The whole mess with Nikki gnaws at me, a knot of frustration and regret tightening in my chest. I can’t even find the right words to describe how tangled and miserable it feels. It’s all just… a damn disaster.

In an attempt to drown the sinking feeling, I drank. Hard. I drank until the world blurred and my grip on reality slipped away. I barely remember anything beyond the haze of alcohol coursing through my veins. The details are fuzzy, but the memory of drinking itself is painfully clear.

Wait—there’s something else.

I twist my head and glance over my shoulder. Sure enough, the woman I dragged back here last night is still asleep beside me. Her dark, wavy hair cascades messily over her face, muffling her soft, rhythmic breathing. A faint snore escapes her lips now and then. I groan again, sitting up and rubbing my face with both hands. What I desperately need right now is a tall glass of water and a handful of painkillers—lots of them.

I shouldn’t have let things get this out of hand, I think as I swing my legs over the side of the bed and head toward the bathroom. But the truth is, it’s Nikki’s fault. I was furious, desperate to purge her from my mind. I was sick of the endless cycle of hope and disappointment, tired of trying to convince her to believe me. The whole situation is a mess—completely fucked up.

Now, with the cold light of day shining in, I realize the truth: what I was chasing last night was impossible. Forgetting her? That’ll never happen. Not in a million years. No matter what I do, she’s etched into my thoughts like a permanent scar. Only something drastic—a bullet to the back of my head—could erase her from my mind forever.

I force myself to clean up as best as I can, then step into the shower. The cold water shocks my system awake, washing away some of the fog in my brain. After a few minutes, I wrap a towel around my waist and return to the bedroom.

The woman is awake now, sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing her tired eyes. When she notices me, she looks up quickly and offers a bright smile. “Morning,” she says softly.

Usually, I’d respond politely to a woman I’d spent the night with, but today, I’m not in the mood for niceties. I nod curtly, barely acknowledging her presence.

“Last night was amazing, Roman,” she says, standing up. Her voice carries a warmth that feels out of place given my mood.

I open the closet and start searching for something to wear. It surprises me that she remembers my name—I’m not even sure what hers is. Esmé, maybe? I vaguely recall her shouting it over the pounding music. She looks familiar, but I can’t place where I might have seen her before. Then again, what are the odds?

It’s time for her to go. She came to me while I was drunk; it just happened. But I’ve never been one for sentimentality. I don’t care if she stays or leaves. My tenderness has always been reserved for only one person—and ironically, she no longer wants me.

“So,” she begins, her voice grating on my nerves more than usual. Maybe it’s the headache, or the lingering bitterness inside me. “What are your plans for the day?”

I spin around, holding a shirt in my hand, and reply bluntly, “Look, this is where you leave, sweetheart. I don’t mean to be an asshole, but that’s just how it is.”

She doesn’t seem offended. Instead, she smiles like she knows something I don’t. “Sure, no problem, Roman.”

As she heads for the door, a small doubt crosses my mind—did I use a condom? I’ve had a vasectomy, but that doesn’t mean I’m immune to catching something. I edge closer to the bed and spot the discarded wrapper on the floor. Relief floods through me.

Later, I make my way downstairs just in time for the breakfast I promised to have with Carmen and her family. Last night, I completely forgot about her, which was probably for the best. Every time I thought about Carmen, my mind drifted to Garith, and the memory sickens me.

She leans back, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “You must not love her that much, then. Because you’re clearly not afraid for her life. You just don’t care, do you?”

Anger blinds me, and I lean in close, my voice low and threatening. “If you hurt her, I’ll fucking kill you, Carmen. With my bare hands. Understand?”

Her smile only widens. “Not scared you’ll go to jail for saying that? You know the arrangement we have.”

“I don’t give a damn about that,” I grit out. “If I go to jail, it’ll be for a damn good reason. Trust me.”

Before she can say anything else, I stand abruptly and storm out of the restaurant, my head pounding, heart racing. I can’t believe she just threatened Nikki’s life like it was nothing.

How did she find out? Who told her?

I don’t have answers, but one thing is clear—this is bad.

I meant every word I said.

If she even dares to lay a finger on Nikki, I’ll break it. No matter the cost.

I’ll protect her—even if it kills me.