Page 41 of Hart Breaker

He grabs his phone and taps at the screen, then sets it down, leans forward, and grips the edge. “Okay, first question: have I ever been at this bar?”

I look down and nod. “Yeah.”

“Jesus Christ,” he murmurs. “Second question: were you there that night?”

I lift my chin.

“Was Lauren?”

I look up and meet his eyes, needing to do this without room for question. “No, she wasn’t.”

His facial expression changes from angry to stricken. “So that was you that night in the bathroom?”

“Yeah.”

“You made your sister tell me it was her so you and Brett could what? Live unhappily ever fucking after?”

“Yes.”

Boone walks in, looks at me, then Hart, then back at me. “You ready?”

“Ready for what?” I ask.

“To drive you home,.” Boone answers as Hart begins walking out of the room.

“I’m fine to drive. I’m …” I turn and yell after Hudson instead. “Hart, I’m not finished talking to you.”

“I’m not going to spill your sick little secret, but I’m not fucking wit you right now.”

“Fucking wit me?” I yell.

I swear the whole mansion shakes when he yells, “Go home, Riley!”

I turn and yell at Boone, “I’m fine to drive.”

He holds out his hand and shakes his head. “Keys, Brooksie.”

“No, fuck that.” I move to walk past him, and he moves, too. “And fuck you.”

“Well, wouldn’t that make for an interesting twist.” He chuckles.

“Get out of my way.”

“You don’t want me to drive you? That’s cool.” He takes my hands and holds them up. “But Big Daddy Boone wouldn’t let his little flower drive if she was shaking like this, and I’m sure as fuck not letting you. Call one of your girls, or let me give you a ride.”

“I left my phone at home!” So Brett wouldn’t track my ass.

“All right then, let’s roll.”

“And how are you gonna get back here?”

“One step at a time, Ry.” He winks and wraps a big stupid arm around my shoulders.

Riding shotgun in any vehicle is something I’ve avoided at almost all costs since the accident. I truly believe they’d have both been alive if he was driving. But riding bitch in my own vehicle is even worse yet.

“Just … just don’t drive like you own it, okay?”

“Probably be worse if I drove it like I stole it, huh?” He chuckles, and that does it.

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