Page 117 of A Little Broken

My eyes thin. “And what are you running from?”

“The past,” he answers cryptically. “Just like you two.”

“Who says we’re running?” Rory interrupts.

Dodger smirks. “You know our families, Squeaks. You really think they don’t talk?”

Her body slumps forward. “Of course, they do.” She groans and scrubs her hand over her face. “What am I going to do? I don’t want to go. I don’t want to face him.”

“Him,” Dodger repeats. It isn’t a question. It’s a dare. He wants to hear her say it. Jaxon’s name. The man who’s been haunting her for years. The man who she refuses to let go of, despite the bastard being marriedandwith a kid. Yeah, it was a dark day in high school when she got the call about his engagement. She should’ve gone to the wedding. If she wanted to save face, she would’ve. Instead, we both hunkered down in our dorm and bingedGilmore Girlsthe entire weekend. I don’t regret a second of it, and neither does Rory. But maybe it would’ve been good for her. To see him sign his life away. To hear him say the words, “I do,” to someone else. Someone who isn’t her.

Steeling her shoulders, Rory announces, “Jaxon Thorne,” with more bravado than I’ve ever seen.

“Right,” Dodger murmurs. “The asshole.”

Her bottom lip wobbles, and she squeezes her eyes shut, letting out a slow breath. “Ignore me for a second. I just need to cry.”

Aaaand there’s the baby deer I know and love.

“Don’t cry,” Dodge replies. “What do you have to be afraid of?”

“I don’t know? Embarrassing myself? Again? Looking like an idiot? Again? Showing up with no date and no prospects while drooling over a guy who’s married with a kid?” She wipes at her cheeks angrily. “Yeah, that sounds like an amazing way to spend my time celebrating my brother’s wedding, don’t you think?”

Scratching the scruff along his jaw, Dodger offers, “I’ll go.”

Like a record scratching, Rory’s mouth snaps shut, and her head swings toward him. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I said, I’ll go.” He shrugs. “As your plus-one.”

“You’ll go as my date?”

“Yeah, why not? It’s not like I wouldn’t have gone anyway.”

“I thought you hate Lockwood Heights,” I remind him.

“They’re family,” he answers without even casting me a glance. “And so are you, Rore. So what do you say? Want to be my date?”

“I mean, you’re…” She scans him up and down, taking in his weathered face, charismatic lift of his lips, and tattoos peeking out beneath the collar and sleeves of his T-shirt. “Sure,” she squeaks. “Sure, I’d love to.”

I groan. “Then, who will I go with?”

“I mean, you and Pax looked pretty…”—my best friend doesn’t even bother hiding her amusement—“something last night.”

“Pretty something?” I repeat with a laugh.

“You know what I mean,” she argues.

“Yeah, but I don’t,” Dodger rests his elbows on the table. “What’s going on with you and Pax?”

“Nothing,” I tell him.

“You sure about that?”

“Yes,” I say, doubling down while silencing the tiny voice inside my head from shouting otherwise.

He frowns. “Shame.”

“What makes you say that?” I ask.

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