Page 21 of Those Heartbreak Scars

“What the hell?”

“It’s nothing.” She winces.

“It’s not nothing. Did Nathan do this?” Because I will call the cops on the asshole. “I swear to God—”

“You can’t tell anyone.” She grabs my wrist. Her gaze bores into mine. “No one.”

“You can’t let him keep treating you like—”

“You promised me.” Her grip is too tight. “You said you wouldn’t say anything. You wouldn’t do anything to make him mad. Let me handle him.”

I nod. I made that promise when I didn’t realize how bad it was. And I only keep it because she gets this wildly terrified look in her eye when I threaten to help. Like my helping will make the situation worse, and that’s the last thing I want for my friend.

She lets go of my wrist. “Thank you.”

“I don’t understand why you protect him.”

“I’m not protecting him.” She sighs. “It’s my problem. Not yours. I’m doing what I have to.”

“To make your album. I know, but this isn’t okay. You need to get out of your contract with him. There must be other managersthat are as good as he is. If not better. You need a good lawyer. I could call EJ. The laws might be different but—”

“You can’t tell him about this.” She gets this look of terror that makes me pause. “Promise me you won’t tell him about this.”

“But—”

“He was a vacation fling. That’s all. If I’d wanted him in my day-to-day life, don’t you think I would have kept in contact?”

“Fine.” Something definitely happened on that Positano trip that she hasn’t told me about, but what? I grab some ice from the freezer and wrap it in a tea towel. “Here. Put this on it.”

“Thanks.” She takes the makeshift cold pack and presses it gently to her eye.

I grab the tub of ice cream and a couple of spoons from the cutlery drawer, before taking a seat on the floor next to her. “You want?”

“Yeah.” She digs a spoonful out and eats it like an icy treat on a stick.

I eat the ice cream in its intended way. One mouthful at a time. “He’s a bastard. A right bell end.”

“Look at you using that term correctly.” She rests her head against the stainless steel appliance. “I hope your night was better than mine.”

“Mmm.” I take my time on a mouthful of ice cream. “The important meeting Everett had was with Gray.”

“Wait.” The eye that isn’t covered by the makeshift cold pack narrows on me. “Your Gray?”

“He’s a sports rep,” I say. “And he’s not my Gray.”

“Uh-oh?”

“Big time.” I groan, putting the ice cream down. “We got into an argument. In the bathroom. We fucked while Everett waited for me to come back.”

“Oh shit.”

“He called me his girlfriend.”

“Gray did?”

“Everett.”

“Oh shit. This is better than the daytime soaps.”

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