Page 36 of Muddy Messy Love

Liam’s eyes widen, and he looks at Jen before dropping his gaze to the table. “Shit.”

“Shit, what?” Jen asks, growing taller in the booth while Liam shrinks.

“You don’t know,” he says, flickering his eyes to mine.

My stomach sinks. “Know what?”

“Oh boy,” he says under his breath with a whistle. He sighs, carving a hand through his messy hair. “He’s out.”

“Slade?” I feel my blood drain.

Liam nods, and Jen hisses, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I’m not meant to talk about him, remember?” His reply comes through clenched teeth, and he winces at his empty beer. “Look what happens when I do.”

Jen whacks his arm. “To Avery, not me!”

“When?” I ask, gripping Jen’s wrist to quiet her.

Liam sighs. “Two weeks ago.”

“Two weeks ago?” I swallow the lump in my throat.Two whole weeks?“Why so soon?”

“Good behaviour and overcrowding, apparently.”

“And you didn’t know?” My gaze darts back to Jen. She’s said as much, but I need the reassurance.

Vehemently, she shakes her head. “No way. I would have told you. You know that. My boyfriend here apparently doesn’t know how to communicate.”

Liam winces. “Sorry, Aves. I thought you knew. Hell, I thought he’d be here. I was psyching myself up all day to deal with the cunt-nugget.”

My frown deepens. When would Slade ever come to a place like this with me?

Liam dips his mouth to Jen’s ear. “Sorry, baby. I should have said something.” Jen’s shoulders relax when he kisses her cheek, but her eyes remain locked on mine, wary and waiting.

The news tumbles around my head, punching my heart, and I take a few deep breaths, trying to make sense of it all. Two weeks and he hasn’t contacted me.Two fucking weeks. My chest tightens, and the pub air grows stuffy and warm.Too warm. I yank at the collar of my jacket, willing my lungs to work. The decision’s been made for me, evidently. Slade’s done. Aftereverything. That night. The blame I tried to take. Zoe and her iron fist. My…virginity.

I squeeze my eyes shut as my sense of self deflates like a balloon blown up and let go before being tied. It lands in a dark corner with dust bunnies and dirt. Small, saggy, and used. “Did he ask about me?” I brace for Liam’s answer.

“I only saw him at Maccas. We didn’t talk long. Sorry, Aves.” Pity rasps his voice, and my eyes glass.

Leaning across the table, Jen grabs my limp hands in hers. “You don’t want him, okay? He’s an arsehole.”

She’s right. Slade is an arsehole, and damn it, I don’t want him. Or more aptly, I don’twantto want him. Not anymore. My chest heaves against the invisible weight crushing it, and Beth’s voice counts in my head. In, two, three, four…

It takes every ounce of strength to wrestle my panic into mere anger, but I manage it. Just. And as I’m trying, out of nowhere, Cole’s face appears in my mind, soft and luminous. His knowing eyes and smile loosen the shackles across my chest so I can breathe—breathe and purge my anger so as not to explode.

Slade and his bat-shit-crazy girlfriend can go to hell. He thinkshe’sdone—well, fuck that—he has no idea how doneIam.

There. I feel better.

I return from the land of spinning thoughts like I’ve stepped out from a dark fog of battle. As Liam and Jen watch me in careful silence, I lift my cosmo to my lips with shaky hands, down it in one shot, then slide from the booth, forcing a smile. If one thing’s for sure, Slade Pearson is not ruining my night. “I’ll get us some more drinks,” I say before heading to the bar. And this time, I don’t give a fuck who’s watching.

Three sorrow-numbing cosmos, two flattering pick-up attempts, and one hour later, the deafening screech of an amplifier jolts the pub to silence. I cover my ears, and everyone’s attention darts to the stage where Riot of the Ruby Soularesetting up their equipment.

The bassist leans into the mic with a charismatic smirk. “Sorry about that, folks.” Stepping back, he strums a few notes and adjusts the dials some more.

“These guys are so good,” Jen says. “You should hear the lead singer. He’s like an Indian Ed Sheeran.”

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