Page 6 of Those Heartbreak Scars

“Dove loves her vape.” I lead the way off the dance floor with him at my back. “And an old fashioned cigarette or two when she’s drinking.”

She had a pack in her purse. I noticed it when she was checking that she had everything before we left our villa.

His hand steadies on my hip when a couple rush past fast enough to make me stumble. “It’s a madhouse in here.”

“Yeah.” But I don’t hate it. Being here with him. Hanging out. Talking. I’ve lost count of the number of times that this scenario has run through my head in the last few months. The many different ways that I worked out how it could go.

I didn’t expect that it would be the first time in months that I feel like myself.

“Hey. Come on. Take my hand.” His bigger, warmer one engulfs mine, creating static under my skin while he leads me out onto the cobbled street.

My sweat slicked skin cools as we peek through the cloud of cigarette and vape smoke to see if Dove is among the crowd.

“There is no way she’s here,” Gray says. “Not if she and EJ are still together. You know he can’t stand smokers. They’ve probably wandered down to the beach. Or gone back to the hotel.”

“You’re right.” Still, I need to be certain she’s safe. I pull out my phone and bring up Dove in my contacts. The call rings out. Once. Twice. Voicemail kicks in. “I’m going to go back to the Airbnb. Call me back, D. Let me know you’re okay.”

“You know she is,” Gray says. “Even if they weren’t all over each other, EJ would never leave her on her own.”

EJ probably doesn’t know that he’s lip locking with Britain’s next pop princess. We don’t go out much locally because people recognize her. They crowd her for autographs, or try for their fifteen minutes of fame, or a kiss and tell. It’s why we’re spending our girls’ weekend here, where she can still go places without being recognized or needing to be surrounded on all sides by security. If I hadn’t vouched for EJ she might have flirted, but she wouldn’t have left with him.

“Still I’ll be more at ease when I hear from her.” I tuck my phone away. “I’m going to go back to our place.”

“I’ll come with you,” Gray says.

“I’m a big girl. You don’t have to—”

“I know. But I want to.” He places his hand on the small of my back. “Should we get a cab? Is it far?”

How am I supposed to say no? I’m in a foreign country. Alone. Surely it would be the smart choice to let him accompany me. It’s about time I made a good one. “No. We can walk. It’s not far.”

We fall in step, walking along the road that follows the beach. The waves rumble as they wash up on shore, silver threads of sea foam bubbling on the dark surface. Up above the moon hangs like a wheel of Jarlsberg.

It would be romantic with the right person. We come across several couples on the beach who think so.

One particularly amorous pairing rolls around in the sand, their lusty moans growing more frantic while he moons everyone with an ass paler and brighter than the moon overhead.

“EJ?” I ask Gray, unable to keep the amusement from my voice.

“Not a chance. The closest he’d get to exhibitionism is looking at himself in the mirror while…” He chuckles while miming the masculine version of self-love.

“Would you ever…” I stop myself there, as I mentally catch another whiff of Indy’s perfume. As his expression tightens.

Girls talk. It’s what we do. I’ve heard the TMI details of his sex life. Both the fascination he has with being on his knees, and the extent of his spontaneity, which is one car accident away fromnon-existent. That was with Indy though. Things could have changed.

“No,” he says bitterly. “I wouldn’t. People who can’t control themselves don’t have some destined kind of chemistry. It’s not love. It’s lust.”

“Surely lust is the chemistry that allows us to fall in love.” It feels like we’re talking about Indy and Theo, and though we said we wouldn’t, I can’t help but stand up for my bestie.

“You can fall in love without hurting other people.” He sneers. “You can be attracted to someone without impulsively acting on it.”

“She never wanted to hurt you, Gray.” I grasp his wrist and pull him to a standstill. “I know you’re in pain, but—”

“You don’t know.” He tugs free. “How could you possibly know what it’s like to love someone for almost a decade? She cheated on me.”

Is it the same sensation to love someone when they don’t love you back? When they never so much as noticed how you feel about them? “She didn’t.”

“She had an emotional affair. She chose him.” He starts walking ahead. “She might as well have been fucking him too.”

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