Page 18 of Pretty Broken Things

“Let’s just say there’s a reason I didn’t become a cheerleader. Besides I don’t think Ford is going to fall at my feet just because I hang around waiting for scraps of his attention like all of his other groupies.”

Her eyes narrow, and she shakes her head. “So you do want Ford. I knew it.”

I slap my hand across her mouth, getting her sticky pink lip gloss on my hand. “Would you keep it down? It’s pretty clear he doesn’t see me the same way, and I need him right now.”

I mentally groan at my uncharacteristic overshare. Being open and honest with my feelings is not me. That leads to vulnerability, and to me that word is synonymous with being weak. Chalk it up to birthday blues, because on any other day I’d have been able to keep these feelings bottled up.

Lydia links her arm with mine and tugs me toward the exit close to the football field. “You are in serious need of therapy, or even just a mirror. There’s no way a straight man looks at you and doesn’t want to nail you into next week. Hell, I want a go at you, and I don’t lean toward women at all.”

A laugh explodes out of my chest. I feel Ford’s gaze, but I don’t dare look to confirm it. “You still haven’t shared this genius plan of yours,” I remind her much quieter than she had been speaking.

Lydia nods, and wiggles her fingers at two guys wearing our school’s soccer jerseys. “Do you know Preston and Jace?”

Football might be the more popular sport at our school, but the soccer team wasn’t uncelebrated. Not with nationally ranked players on the team. Pres and Jace were two of the best players in the country. I can’t name what position they play, or even a single rule of the game, but I know they are damn good. Next to Ford and Shane, they’re two of the most lusted after guys at our school.

I groan. “Please tell me you aren’t planning what I think you are.”

Jace and I have history, and not a great one. I doubt Lydia knows this, or she wouldn’t be suggesting that I entertain my ex-boyfriend.

“Preston was flirting with me after third period, and asked me to hang out and watch practice. Jace came around and suggested I bring you. I thought we could either get Ford and Shane’s attention, or at least have fun with a couple hot guys. Tracy has already found her next fling, and she’s started pulling away again. Jace is hot, and rumor has it he’s great in bed.”

“He’s fantastic in bed, it’s out of it that he sucks,” I grumble.

Her eyes pop open wide. “You and he—”

“Dated for most of last year? Yeah,” I confirm. “That is until I saw his Insta from soccer training camp. The dumbass didn’t bother to block me before sharing a pic of him hooking up with some skank from the girls’ camp.”

Lydia shakes her head. “This was a bad idea. We can just go.”

I purse my lips. “What the hell. I’m not in danger of getting my heart broken by him. Might be good to get some closure.”

“Is closure code for revenge?” she asks.

I bump my shoulder against hers. “You know it.”

Lydia laughs, and shakes out her long chestnut hair. “I really wish we’d been friends before. We could have done so much damage to him when it happened.”

“Better late than never,” I tell her, and steel my spine to deal with my ex-boyfriend.

ChapterEight

Ford

Practice is gruelingas Coach Jake Greer pushes us through all our drills. We call him Coach Hard-Ass behind his back, because no matter what position you play, we’re all forced to run sprints, laps, and the ever dreaded bleacher runs. Then, right before we feel like collapsing, I get to spend the rest of practice throwing to Shane until he can barely lift his legs and my arm feels like a limp noodle. Doesn’t stop him from winking at Kaitlyn every time he runs past.

I haven’t touched a woman since hooking up with Tracy, and that was over a week ago. Normally I entertain a few different girls a week. I’m sure if I were more self-reflective I’d see my need for physical touch was some sort of pathological need to replace the emotional neglect from my parents, but that might be overthinking it. I honestly can’t say a guy from a family with attentive parents wouldn’t act the same way if they were a popular athlete. Girls throw themselves at me, offering no strings attached fun. Show me a guy who would turn that down.

Then a dark-haired beauty with a giant chip on her shoulder stomped over to me, and I’ve been struggling ever since to get her out of my mind. She pissed me off and fascinated me in equal measure. The more I watched her, the deeper I sank into my preoccupation with her. She’s the only woman to ever inspire my protective side. Before I knew it, I’d been spending all my waking time either thinking about her or hanging out with her alone at her house.

I didn’t handle the impact she had on me well. Tessa immediately crawled under my skin, and my first instinct was to carve her out. That was why Tracy and I hooked up again, despite us both saying we were done with the benefits portion of our friendship. She noticed I was spiraling and took control. It was a moment of weakness, a backsliding into old patterns. She was my first, and for a while the only person who could comfort me at my lowest.

For years we didn’t see anything wrong with our method of coping, but the lines between us were starting to blur too much. I didn’t want to be just another guy who uses her, but all too often that’s what ended up happening. Of course, she says she uses me just as much, but either way it isn’t a healthy way to maintain a friendship. Not that either of us have seen many healthy coping mechanisms in our eighteen years. I couldn’t ignore the longing she had to find a lasting love, and we both knew it wouldn’t ever be with me. Neither of us saw the other that way. Maybe life would have been better if we had.

I knew Tessa would seek me out that night, and I thought once she caught Tracy and I together that would be the end of my budding obsession with her. Staying away from her felt impossible, so I did everything I could to try and make her stay away from me. It might have worked if I’d had any self-control where she’s concerned.

Going over to her house that first night was a huge lapse in judgement. I thought I’d make it clear I wouldn’t be helping her get between my mom and her dad, but then I found her fighting tears all alone in that huge house. Her loneliness spoke to me, because it matched mine. Being alone with her smoothed over my jagged pieces, and made the weight on my shoulders feel a little bit easier to carry.

For the last few days I’ve hovered around her with a pathological need to be everywhere she is. Tessa is an enigma to me, hard on the outside but soft on the inside. I covet those moments where I’m the only one to see through her façade. Therein lies my problem. Wanting to be around her, being drawn to her opens me up to feelings. Caring about people gives them ammunition to hurt you, and I’ve had enough pain to last for the rest of my life.

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