Page 34 of Hart Breaker

When I walk into my place, Jillian is sitting on the bottom step of the stairs, and Nour is leaning against the wall, looking down, clearly avoiding eye contact.

When she looks at me, I am momentarily concerned that her face is possibly going to split in half from the smile she sports. I eye her skeptically.

“Lucy, you’ve got some explaining to do.” Then she busts up laughing.

“What the hell is so funny?” Boone chuckles from behind me.

I glare at her, a warning. “Nothing.”

“Hey man, if you want me to move into your home, there can’t be any secrets between us.” He winks. “It won’t work that way.”

“The hell there can’t be.” I turn and look at him. “And that’s why this will work.”

“I don’t know … I need more of a connection. I don’t want skeletons jumping out of your closet at me and making me scream like a little girl, wondering who the monster I’m living with truly is.”

Jillian is laughing even harder now. “Oh my God.” She stands and wipes tears from under her eyes. “Those skeletons will get you every damn time.”

The thought she was going to bust on me as she did last night sucks, but right now, I’m realizing it was a dream compared to the nightmare I’m pretty sure I’m facing right now.

“Jillian”—Nour pushes off the wall—“how about we go see what time your mother and Marks want to head to the airport?”

“You’re going back to Jersey tonight?” I ask, trying to hide the relief I feel inside at the thought.

“Oh no, it’s the off-season for the Jags. We decided why not head to Vegas to watch the number one team in the NFC keep that title.”

“Spoiler alert: we’re going to win,” I say through my teeth. “Don’t feel obligated.”

“You know”—Jillian links her arm through mine as I start up the stairs—“I never imagined a tiny little town like Blue Valley could be as exciting as it is in Trenton, New Jersey, but boy, was I wrong.”

I don’t feed into her ramblings, hoping she’ll peel off my side and leave me to wallow in my misery.

She doesn’t.

Once inside my room, she unlinks her arm and asks, “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was drunk, so there wasn’t much thinking involved,” I say, glancing at the closet door to make sure it’s closed before climbing into my bed. “I’d really like to sleep through the next?—”

“Oh no, you don’t, Hudson Hart. You made the biggest play of your life; you don’t get to just leave the field now when the game’s just started, champ.”

“I just want to sleep through this fog so I can wake up fresh and decide how I’m going to get the fucking thing back there.”

“Pussy,” she mumbles as she climbs onto the bed, rolls to her side, and faces me.

I exhale slowly and whisper quietly, “The fuck did I do?”

She smiles slightly as she tucks her hands under the side of her face. “You, Hudson?—”

“You getting these texts, Hart?” Boone asks, walking into my room, stopping, and holding up his hands. “This is some shit I shouldn’t want to see, but would be lying if I said it doesn’t have the blood heating up and flowing down there at my tinkle spot.”

Laughing, Jillian throws a pillow at him.

“You’re fucking sick, man.” I pull a pillow out from under my head and cover my face.

“Nah, man.” He laughs, walking over and sliding onto the bed from the bottom, positioning himself between us.

“The hell are you doing?” I snarl when he tries to roll my ass to face the opposite direction.

“Big spoon.” He sighs as he wiggles closer.

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