Page 129 of Splintered Hearts

Bowen shifts uncomfortably before trying on a smile. “Do you have a picture of Jamie?” Thinking a moment, I roll, grabbing my phone and wincing when I see the time. Fuck, it’s late, and I do not want to call a rideshare. “What?”

“It’s late. I should call a ride soon before I can’t get one.”

“Stay the night.”

“What?”

“It’s not like we’re going to do anything.” He shrugs. “Stay over. I’ll take you back in the morning. Cam has my car, but I’ll have it back then.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Your dick may be broken, but I’d still like to cuddle.”

“My dick is not broken!”

Bowen laughs, snatching my phone and clicking it on. “Oh, wow. This him?” I nod. “He’s hot.” Looking at the image, I gently grab it back and click it off. It’s still too hard to look at.

“I think I love him.” While Mark was always my go-to person for these things, it feels nice having someone on the outside who doesn’t know Jamie, and really doesn’t know me. “I don’t know if I want to, though.”

Bowen reaches over me, shutting off the light and pulling the covers around our bodies. “I think he may surprise you.”

Bowen presses a kiss to my forehead and hugs me tighter. It’snice and oddly comfortable. While this night did not turn out as I planned, this is way better. Tomorrow, I’ll face Jamie, but tonight, I’ll enjoy this. “Night, Noah.”

“Night, Bowen.”

Thirty One

Jamie

My head hurts, my body aches, and the splitting in my skull just won’t ebb. I barely slept last night. Sleeping like shit is second nature, but with Noah holding me every night I’d finally been sleeping right.

Every hour, I checked both my phone and the driveway. I’m not sure where he went, but fuck, he looked incredible. How did I go from experiencing the best night of my life to nearly the worst? Okay not the worst. Honestly, with my life, it has to be really fucking terrible to reach the top worst experiences, but fuck if it doesn’t feel like fucking rock bottom right now. The sex must have been terrible.

Noah doesn’t give a fuck about me. Running my fingers through my hair, all I can do is sit here and think—sit with what I’m feeling—and it’s driving me crazy. All I want to do is talk to him.

All these scenarios run through my mind but I’m ignoring the most probable one. It’s painfully true and easy. All of Noah’s praise and admiration was false. He doesn’t like me. Why the fuck would he? I’m unlovable. Period. It’s etched inside me like scars on my bones. I’m nothing.

Noah’s lies make me feel like . . . they make me feel like . . .

My throat swells, my eyes burn. Noah made me feel like maybe I was worthy of love. Worthy of his time and attention. Noah showed me warmth in so many forms, only to replace it with achill ten times colder than anything I’ve ever felt.

“You’re fucking stupid.”

I hug my body, tucking my hands under my armpits, trying to still the wobble in my chin. I need to get a grip. This isn’t the first time someone has made me feel like shit and it won’t be the last.

Maybe Noah was trying to be polite, avoiding me after terrible sex. I want to fix this, but what is there to fix? I can’t force Noah to like me. I just need to forget. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to forget and just numb myself.

I need something to smoke.

With the medication I’m on, I have to be careful, but honestly, I don’t crave it like I used to. Not the drug itself—it’s not like that—but what it brings. A dull muteness to the vicious voices constantly swirling in my brain.

Cupping the big scar on my chest, my thumb runs along the puckered skin. This one was the worst—a piece of steel had lacerated my chest. If it had been removed sooner I would have bled out, but once it was removed it took a good chunk of my flesh with it. A miracle, the nurses said. Never, not once have I been more grateful to be alive than with Noah’s lips against it.

And it was all bullshit.

I need a shower. Maybe I’ll call Brianna and see if she can hook me up, then I can numb myself for a few hours. Maybe I can close my eyes, and if I get high enough, relive a few nights ago. Being inside Noah’s arms. Wrapping his warm body against my own.

Maybe.

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