Page 75 of Come Break My Heart Again

I finally find the tiny, gritty bits and brush them off.

Ryder’s still smiling at me.

My stomach flips, and my skin tingles. I can feel my heartbeat in my fingertips. He makes me feel like the same teenager with a crush. But it’s deceptive because it’s not a crush. It’s this huge force, my feelings for him. Nothing light or easy.

“Stop that,” I say.

His grin fades, and the intensity left behind is almost worse. “Stop what?”

“Being nice to me.”

“Fine.” He swipes a finger along the rim of my glass, brushing off some more of the salt crystals, then lifts his hand and sprinkles them on my nose.

I bite the inside of my cheek to stop from smiling. There’s a giddy flicker in my stomach, a bubbly flash of brightness. A reminder that I loved this boy. That a large part of me still does. His harsh rejection, followed by seven years of silence, endedour relationship. But it didn’t damage all the feelings that had already been there, just took away their outlet.

Ryder’s pinkie brushes my chin before pulling away. My teeth clench until the coppery tang of blood fills my mouth.

I look away. “Don’t touch me.”

“Sorry.”

I sip more margarita. The sour alcohol stings the cut on the inside of my cheek. I’d rather focus on that pain than on fighting the urge to look at him again. I couldn’t for so long. The sight is like offering an addict a favorite drug. Ryder is a substance I should no longer crave.

You’re supposed to avoid what will hurt you.

I should know better. He’s broken my heart twice before.

“I’m sorry about a lot, Elle,” he says softly.

My eyes sting. A lump grows in my throat as my fingers tighten around the cool glass. Could I shatter it? It feels like I could. So fragile, just like me. Falling apart from a two-minute conversation.

“It was a long time ago. Don’t dredge up the past, Ryder.” My tone is perfect. Casual and cool and unbothered.

But there are more cracks appearing, webbing across my chest. I have no idea how I’ll make it through the rest of tonight, let alone tomorrow, if this is how much damage he’s done in one day of barely speaking to me.

“Okay.” His tone is gentle and sincere.

And I hate it. I need him to be harsh and aloof, like he was that day at the prison. Ineedto hatehim.

Because if I don’t hate him … I’m terrified of what I’ll be left with.

I turn and walk away.

Just like he did.

“Ilovesummer,” Avery announces, sprawling back against the wooden booth. Some of her hair brushes against my arm.

“Technically, it’s not summer for a few more weeks,” Juliet replies.

“Well, it feels like summer,” Avery says. Her cheeks are pink, and her curls are a wild tangle.

My hair probably looks worse. It tends to frizz in humidity, not to mention the salty air gusting in every time the door gets opened.

I arch my toes under the table, relieved to be sitting down. We’ve spent the past hour dancing, and my feet are already feeling it. The three margaritas I’ve had dull some of the soreness, but I’m sure I’ll feel it tomorrow.

Avery giggles, leaning forward. “Wow. I’ve never seen Ophelia like this over a guy.”

Juliet and Keira both glance at me instead of the spot by the bar where Ophelia and Ryder are standing, talking.

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