Page 84 of Branded Hearts

“Brad, listen to me,” Xav says, his tone serious. “If this is a chance at actually finding someone special, don’t let your misguided sense of duty stop you. You’ll regret it. You don’t get many shots at something real. And besides, Liv will understand.” He stops, pondering his words. “Eventually... somehow.”

I scoff a laugh. “Gee, thanks.”

Xav shrugs. “Eh, how bad can it be?” There’s only one way to find out, I guess.

“Look, I’m not one to talk,” he continues. “But I think you’re making it more complicated than it needs to be. Just trust your gut.”

How can I trust my gut when it’s all mixed signals? My mind’s a mess, constantly flipping between yes and no. We sit there on the mats, silence hanging between us.

“So... Amelia, eh?” Xav shakes his head with a smile. “You know. I saw it coming. She’s cute, in her own quirky way. Can’t blame you. She’s got this whole shy, good-girl-next-door kinda vibe,” he says, and I shoot him a glare, picking up my glove.

“You gonna keep going, wanker? Or do I need to shut you up?” I warn.

He starts laughing, raising his hands in surrender. “Relax, shittt.” As I turn away, I hear him mutter, “Yeah, not in love, my ass,” and I’m on my feet in seconds, gloves ready. He scurries away, still laughing.

“Dick,” I mutter to myself, unable to stop the smirk spreading across my face.

26

Iwake up feeling like complete dog poop. The light seeps through the blinds, only adding to my nausea, and the room spins as I try to sit up. I groan and reach for my phone to call in sick for work, resigned to the fact that I’ll be stuck at home for God knows how long. My sister is supposed to visit on Friday, and it’sonlyTuesday!

I’ve vomited twice already, dreading the thought of having to go to the toilet. So far, I’ve avoided that particular joy. I check my phone to find a text from Liv, the usual each morning.

Every morning for the past few weeks, Liv and I have been meeting at Tracy’s Coffee Stop for a quick coffee fix before work. I swallow down a nauseousbubble and reply.

Liv reads my text but doesn’t reply. Instead, she FaceTimes meimmediately.

“What part ofcurrently dyingdidn’t you understand?” I struggle to mutter. My voice is hoarse from vomiting, and if I make any sudden movements, my bowels will contract. I can’t even sip water, for heaven’s sake, because even that will spur on a vomiting spree. I have to take small sips instead—I am so dehydrated, it’s beyond a joke now. Liv’s face pops up on the screen, concern etched in her features.

“Shittt, you look wrecked. Are you okay?”

“Thanks.” I let out a weak chuckle.

“Seriously, what’s wrong? You never get sick,” she sighs, running a hand through her hair.

It’s ironic, yes, that I work with kids and ‘never’ get sick. Just my luck now, though. But this doesn’t feel like your average flu. No, this feels worse. It’s got to be food poisoning. But from what? I recall what I had in the last couple of days, ruling it out to be the sushi from my lunch break yesterday. The school canteen is trialling out new menus for the kids, and I just so happened to have reluctantly tried the sushi. Now look where it’s gotten me.

“I don’t know, Liv. Food poisoning, maybe? I tried that sushi from the school canteen yesterday.”

Her expression turns to one of horror. “Oh, God, that soundsterrible. Do you need anything? Should I come over?” Before I can respond, I hear someone talking in the background on her end of the call. Then a deep voice cuts through, making me shiver despite my nausea.

“Who are you on the phone with so early?”

Liv rolls her eyes and snaps back, “Mind your own business.” She tries to move the phone away, but not before I catch a glimpse of Bradley, his hair damp, towel drying his hair.

“Is that Amelia?” he asks, sounding curious. My eyes go wide for a split second, and instinctively, I tilt the phone upward to keep my full face out of the frame. I’ll be damned if I let Bradley see me looking like complete and utter dog poop.

Liv glares at her brother. “Yes.”

Bradley’s brow furrows. “What’s wrong?”

I quickly clear my throat, trying to sound less pathetic. “I’m fine. Just a cold.” I can see the frown etched on his handsome features. That man is always frowning.Always. He needs to smile more. And I’ve seen him smile; it’s devastatingly adorable.

“You weren’t saying that before,” she insists. “Seriously, I don’t have much planned. I’m here if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Liv, but seriously, I’m fine,” I say, and she sighs before looking back at the screen.

“Alright, alright. Just get some rest and text me if you need anything.”

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