Falling For My Ex's Dad by Oma Green

Chapter 152

Chapter 152: The Ache I Couldn’t Drink Away

The bass thumped through the walls of the VIP lounge, loud and chaotic—like the

thoughts swirling in my head. I sat on the leather couch, whiskey glass in hand,

surrounded by bodies moving to the heavy pulse of the music.

Girls were grinding against the poles—shaking their hips, each one doing her best

to earn my attention. The owner had apparently heard I was in the building and

sent in his best—his “favorites,” as he called them. The ones who knew how to

put on a show.

They were barely clothed—skimpy shorts clinging too tightly to their asses,

leaving nothing to the imagination. Long legs, smooth thighs, fully on display.

Sweat glistened on their skin under the flashing lights as they wiggled and moved,

casting flirtatious glances my way, hoping to be the one that got picked.

One of the girls approached my table, her eyes fixed on me, attempting to seduce

me with a gaze that clearly drank in my body. She stopped in front of me, then

bent over, hands grazing the floor, throwing her ass in my face.

But I just sat there.

Watching.

Unaffected.

Detached.

I didn't care for her—or any of them.

How could I?

None of them came close to my woman. None of them even existed in

comparison to her.

And the irony? Sleeping with random strippers was never my thing. Which kind of

defeated the whole damn purpose of being here. I came to forget. To feel nothing.

Instead, I felt a different kind of ache. One that screamed I was completely,

irreversibly screwed.

I tipped the tumbler to my lips and gulped down the whiskey. My alcohol intake

was always in check—precise, like everything else in my life. But tonight?

Tonight, I didn't give a damn.

The first shot did absolutely nothing.

The second—just a slight buzz.

By the third, I felt my chest loosen just a bit. Not enough, but it was something.

And just as I was about to sink further into that desire to drown my thoughts—

I heard it.

A familiar voice.

“Gabriel.”

I turned.

Tina.

thrilled to see me, like she'd just spotted

it with a faint, barely-there smirk—more out of habit

silently grateful. A familiar face.

them a reason

damn. Because I clearly

flashing the girls a look that could

and slid

scattered with practiced grace, already searching for

mark.

tilting her head just enough so

brushed my jaw.

myself maybe the familiarity

to pull me

you here at The Cave,” she teased, fingers tracing

my thigh. “This place isn't really your scene.

for the

voice rough. “But sometimes a man needs

who the

whispered, her eyes burning with that familiar

right woman to remind

body against mine, waiting for me to make the

you're right,” I muttered, sliding a hand to her

more force than I intended. She gasped, then melted, draping

legs over mine.

fired up tonight,” she purred, tilting her head, her

inching toward mine.

knowing she

I wanted to want it.

But I couldn't.

sigh, frustrated more

more drinks.”

gave me a

off the heaviness and

mood.

a hand, signaling the waitress. Tina ordered champagne. I

scotch.

wasted no time. A

the rhythm, grinding in her seat, casting me sultry glances like

was drawing me

everything right—perfectly choreographed seduction. But I

a man trapped behind

back, laughing, hands in the air,

she straddled my lap—the kind of move that would've made

other man weak.

something slurred in my ear

you what

against me, her gaze fixed on mine

coaxing

But I felt... nothing.

Not even a twitch.

her hips—not forceful, just firm enough to

She blinked down at me,

should

up, thinking

she didn't realize—I wasn't asking her to come home with me because

wanted her.

last gulp, swallowing the

get

lights, the women—none

stumbled into my house—well,

Tina hovered. Her

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