Page 63 of Those Heartbreak Scars

“Worked out what?”

“What happened in Positano.” Her mouth contorts while she blinks rapidly. Her eyes shine a little too brightly as she unfolds from the couch.

“He left you stranded in the middle of nowhere because you had a one-night stand? Do you understand how nuts that sounds? He’s not your husband. He’s your manager. And even if you were in love with him I would still be seriously concerned about how he treats you.”

“It doesn’t matter. The album is almost done. I’ll be able to take some time off soon.” She walks away.

“The album has been almost done for months now. He’s dragging it out, making you redo tracks.” I follow her to her room where she throws herself down face-first on the mattress. “You shouldn’t have to take time off from him treating you the way he does. He’s not a good manager. He’s an asshole.”

“Just stop it.” She starts to cry. “You don’t know anything about it. You don’t know anything about anything.”

“I know you deserve better,” I say bitterly. “Whatever he has over you that you’re willing to let him keep treating you like this… it’s not worth it.”

“Just go deal with your own mess,” she snaps. “Fucking around with every man who crosses your path. You don’t think you have your own unhealthy behaviors? Falling in love with the guy your best friend was in love with. I bet you only want him now because she had him first.”

If only it was that easy. If it was just about Indy wanting Gray, I’d have been over him after Positano. Not hoping that one day these feelings I have for the man I saw as hero and friend will fade. “I’m going to go. I have a meeting with the counselor at school to get ready for.”

“Say hi to your professor for me,” her reply is muffled, buried in her pillow.

I speed walk into the bathroom and shut the door before I collapse against it. Shutting my eyes, I focus on taking calming breaths. She was the first person I told about Alfie. She’s been with me when men say hideous things about my body. She always came back with a kind word, or a string of wit tacked together with naughty words.

Tears sting my eyes. Despite that, I know she’s protecting herself. The things she spewed at me just now… that hit so close to home… had to be because I was hitting a nerve too.

I start the shower and strip out of my workout gear before climbing under the spray. Letting my emotions overflow, I watch them swirl down the drain.

My phone lights up with a message as I shut off the water and climb out. Wrapping a towel around me, I scoop up the device.

Everett: Good morning, Lucky Charm. How’s my girl doing?

God, I don’t deserve his sweetness. Or his forgiveness. I failed to appreciate him before. I won’t make the same mistake again.

America: I’ve been better. Dove and I had a fight.

Everett: Surely, it will blow over.

America: I hope so.

Everett: I think I have something that will make you feel better.

He sends me a picture of him in his practice uniform as I head to the bedroom for clothes. The field and his teammates are in the background.

America: You’re right. That does make me feel better.

Everett: Now you send me one.

America: I’m in a towel.

Everett: Do you really think I’m going to hate that?

He’d probably love that. I bite my lip as I consider it. My eyes land on the sweater he left here. The one with his number on it. I drop the towel and drag the sweater over my head. Grab a pair of cheeky panties and shimmy into them too. Then take a photo of my ass and his number on my back. I hold my breath as I hit send.

Everett: Cheeky. So hot!

Everett: I have to get back to training. Catch up after?

America: I’m all yours.

Everett: That’s what I like to hear.

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