Page 37 of Hart Breaker

I narrow my eyes because it’s occurred to me that I am being fucked with. “Oh no, I’m not playing the role of the village idiot. That’s Boone’s job. I’m the fucker, not the fucked with.”

“I find that term offensive,” Boone states. “I prefer?—”

Jackson Brooks grips my shoulder. “I call bullshit. The conversation I overheard you having with yourself in the men’s room, you straight up said you were fucked.”

That voice booms again, “You two sit down and eat some food to soak up the alcohol.”

Jackson pulls out two chairs and waves his hand out to them.

Eyes narrowed at Ava, I let her know, “I’m trying to watch my figure, man.” But I do sit down because there’s one hell of a spread laid out before them, and I can always eat.

Ava’s bestie, Harper, asks, “So, aside from the fact you have a flight to catch in the morning and are going to feel like complete shit, why are you fucked?”

I shake my head and grab a potato wedge. “Because I did a bad thing. A terrible thing. Actually”—I chuckle—“I’ve done a few real shitty things and, well, that’s pretty much why I’m fucked.” I scratch my head. “If I get caught, I’m fucked, but if I don’t, the old Catholic guilt will kick in.”

“You’re Catholic?” Jackson asks.

“No, but I am guilty.”

THIS M’FER

Riley

“The bathroom’s out of tampons.”

These are the first words Lauren has said to me in days.

I turn and look at her as I go to grab an order.

She beats me to it. “I’m out at my place, too.” Turning with the tray in her hand, she snaps back, “And I can’t be trusted in your place. Remember, I’m one of two on Brett’s suspect list.”

“That’s not?—”

“Tampons, Riley.” she scowls. “Nothing more.”

I glance at Mickey, and he shakes his head. “I deal in food, not that drama.”

“And that’s why I love you, Mick.”

When I round the corner, I see my door open and think nothing of it. It would be just like Syd forgetting something and stopping by to grab it, or Mags and Iz just dropping by to crash at my place or Lo’s. But no, nope, it’s none of them.

The moment he looks in my direction, I am ready to let him have it, but Hudson puts his stupid finger to his lips, telling me to shhh. Then he turns and starts to do a sneaky stroll? Is he on his tiptoes?

Am I shook? Is this what shook feels like? Yes, yes, I am. I make a mental note that shook is actually the prequel to shock, and shock sets in as he approaches the lights that surround the parking lot. He crouches down and does an NFL player-sized version of the pink panther walk.

“Is he for real?” I laugh silently then ask myself, “What the fuck is wrong with him?”

“He’s standing on the edge and ready to fall for you,” comes from behind me. Lauren. “And I know damn well you feel the same way.”

“Lauren, I?—”

“No, nothing more until you admit I’m right and stop being a fucking moron and tell him. Or I?—”

“You promised me,” I cut her off as I look around to make sure no one heard her.

She pinches her fingers together, telling me to be quiet. “You’re still so fucked up over?—”

“Don’t.”

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