Page 15 of Broken Love

I nod softly. Fox and his taboo girl. He talks about her more often than he’ll admit and probably thinks about her even more than that. Part of me wonders if he came all the way out here just to avoid her name in sparkling lights around every corner.

“Well… could be worse, right?” I muse.

He pauses for a moment. “Yeah. Definitely.”

Liar.

I don’t blame him, though.

My mind drifts back to Boxcar and I practice a friendly smile to use on him.

It’s time to find out who the hell this guy is.

Chapter 6

Caleb

Now

Sundays. My one day off.

I used to keep Fawn’s Pawn open seven days a week but that wasn’t sustainable. Even control freaks like me get tired sometimes and there’s only so much one girl can do on her own.

I sit down on my couch. It’s just after noon. I have the entire day to lounge, relax, eat shitty food, and watch Netflix. I’ve been looking forward to it all week and nothing is going to stop me. There’s not a single thing in the world right now that can’t wait until Monday.

I grab a soda and a bag of chips and head into the living room. As I sit down, I sink deep into the couch cushions and take a long, calming breath.

Oh, yeah. Here we go—

A knock strikes my door.

“Ignore it…” I whisper aloud.

I sit as frozen as ice, refusing to make a noise until I hear them leave.

Another knock thumps against wood, this one more eager than the last. I take a quick breath, letting it soothe the rage building in my chest. This is my day off. My one day off. I’ll just sit here and wait and eventually they’ll piss off and disappear.

The impatient fist bangs even harder and I can’t hold back my voice.

“Go away!”

“Caleb, it’s me.”

Oh, hell no.

Hell fucking no.

I’m dreaming. That’s what this is. It’s just a horrible nightmare. It seems awfully realistic. I look around my living room, marveling in the accurate representation of my loft. My couch in the center of the room facing the television. One cardboard box in the corner full of movies because I haven’t bothered to buy shelving. Behind me is the kitchen — if you can even call it one. Bare and simple. Across from that is my unmade bed.

I just have to wake up, that’s all.

I’ll wake up and his voice will once again be a distant memory.

“Caleb!”

Please wake up.

“Go away!” I shout again.

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