Page 61 of Those Heartbreak Scars

“That’s a great idea.” She stares at the door to the flat, her cheeks pinched. “I need to be with Dove.”

“What happened to Dove?” I take a step to comfort her, then check myself. “Is she okay?”

“She will be,” America says. “But after last night I don’t want to leave her on her own.”

“So you and I will go to the pub.” Everett slings an arm around my shoulders and ushers me down the steps. “How about it?”

“I’ve got an extra shirt in the car,” I say as he closes the garden gate. “Let me dry off, and I’ll meet you there.”

“Sure, mate. I’ll text you the place.” He lifts a hand in a wave as he trots to his car. “You’re paying, by the way.”

As expected. I pluck at the buttons on my shirt and then strip out of the clingy material. Grabbing a towel from the backseat of my vehicle, I scrub it over my hair and shoulders.

“You can’t show up here like this,” America says from right behind me.

I lower the towel and turn around. “You were serious about being his WAG then?”

“Were you serious?” Her hands are on her hips, one finger tapping. Her mouth has a peeved slant to it.

“I was.”

“Then—”

“What if I came to apologize for being completely fucking stupid in asking you to do that?”

Her eyes grow round and sad. “I’d say it doesn’t matter. I’m with Everett. That’s what I should have said from the start. I’m with him. I’m committed to him. What happened between us should never have happened.”

I don’t want her to think that. I don’t want it to be over. But she’s made her decision, and I will respect that. “He knows—”

“Enough for him to walk away from me. But he didn’t.” She glances away before locking gazes with me again. “He doesn’t know it’s you. He won’t ever know it was you. I’ll pretend that we’re friends whenever we end up in the same places. But we’re not. And we won’t be.”

“Rica.” I grasp for her.

She steps out of my reach. Shakes her head. “Never call me that again.”

Turning on her heel, she marches back into the garden and disappears into her flat.

Bowing my head, I scrub a hand over my face and through my hair. Fight the impulse to chase after her. Instead I grab the new shirt from the backseat and put it on.

The curtain in the front window moves, and I know it’s her watching. Waiting to see whether I’ll go like she told me to.

Every instinct in me tells me I shouldn’t.

But she’s his girl now. His girlfriend. That’s what she wants.

And as much as I convinced myself that what I was doing was okay when they were only casually seeing each other… as much as I told myself Mann was too much of a player for anything real with her… for my sake as well as hers that has to stop.

If I ever want to be America’s friend again, I need to let this go.

Climbing into the car, I check for Everett’s text and set the GPS. The song on the radio is one that Indy loves. Used to love. I don’t know any more. But it doesn’t carry the same pain. An ache, yes, but one that’s more nostalgic than hostile.

“I love this song.” One leg crossed over the other, she taps her tan booted toes to the beat. “Do you remember the first time it came on the radio? You and me and America were going to watch that kid in Rockford play. What was his name?”

“Alan Travers.” I’d signed him that year and he’d gone on to do big things in hockey. He’d gone on to make us both a great deal of money.

“He was so good.” She places her palms on the ceiling and stretches. “America kept making eye contact with you in the rearview mirror all the way home. Do you remember that too?”

“We were just passing the time.” I frown. Indy had been fast asleep in the front seat. America and I had shared quiet conversation and an almost awkward amount of eye contact, considering I was driving. She was into me then too if what she said about wanting me since she was fourteen is true. “I didn’t have a fucking clue.”

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