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.

to see me, like she'd just spotted her next prize.

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

grateful. A familiar face. A reliable distraction.

scattering, give them

gave a damn.

flashing the girls a

her hand dismissively and slid into the seat beside

scattered with practiced grace,

mark.

murmured, tilting her head just enough so

brushed my jaw.

replied, telling myself maybe the familiarity of her face—and her

be enough to pull me

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

place isn't really your scene. I

much chaos for the great

I admitted, my voice rough. “But sometimes

who the

she whispered, her eyes burning with that familiar

right woman to remind

mine, waiting for

muttered, sliding a hand

more force than I intended. She gasped,

legs over mine.

Gabe... you're all fired up tonight,” she purred, tilting

inching toward mine.

her lips, knowing she was about to

wanted to want it.

But I couldn't.

with a sigh, frustrated more with myself

more drinks.”

gave me a few seconds to breathe. I

heaviness and force

mood.

a hand, signaling the waitress. Tina ordered

scotch.

wasted no time. A few sips in, and she

rhythm, grinding in her seat, casting me

drawing

everything right—perfectly choreographed seduction. But

a man trapped

head back, laughing, hands in the

lap—the kind

other man weak.

whispering something slurred in my

“I'll show you what you've been

me, her gaze fixed on mine as she ground her hips

coaxing

But I felt... nothing.

Not even a twitch.

on her hips—not forceful,

blinked down

should leave,” I

face lit up, thinking she'd

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

wanted her.

one last gulp, swallowing the entire drink in one

just wanted to get the hell out

music, the lights, the women—none of

into

hovered. Her

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