Page 159 of A Little Broken

With a quiet sniffle, she reaches for the hem of my shirt at the base of my spine. “Exactly.”

“Do you forgive me?” I murmur. As the words slip out of me, I swear my heart fucking stalls, and so do my lungs. Because if she says no. If she holds this against me. I don’t know what I’ll do.

Please don’t hold this against me, Birthday Girl.

“Forgive you for having a big head or for reading my journal?” she whispers.

“Both.”

Letting out a quiet, shuddered sigh, she pulls away and peeks up at me. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I do.”

My spine curves as I kiss her softly, careful not to push her if she isn’t ready for physical intimacy after our first…whatever this is. “You look beautiful,” I tell her.

“I know.” She smiles, and even though it’s forced, it’s enough of a glimpse of the girl I’ve fallen for that the vice around mychest eases, letting me breathe easier. “But it’s nice hearing you agree with me.”

I chuckle and shake my head, dragging my hands along the hoodie once more before tangling our fingers together. “And you say I’m the one with the big head. Come on, Birthday Girl. Let’s watch a show.”

45

TATUM

It’s been a week since Pax found my journal. I never thought it would see the light of day. Having it see the light of day by the guy you’re talking about in said journal? That was an entirely new mindfuck, but I survived it.

He didn’t mention it afterward, and I’m grateful. Even so, there’s something comforting about…about not being alone anymore. That journal contains my deepest, darkest secrets. And even though I know he didn’t have enough time to dive into every page, knowing he had time to dive into at least one and still stick around is cathartic, almost. Like maybe I’m enough, broken pieces and all.

Or maybe I’m simply feeling particularly sentimental since I haven’t seen him recently. Pax has been missing since Tuesday. And even though I’ve been elbow deep in cleaning houses—Pax’s included—to stay busy, it’s been strange. Not having him around. I’ve missed it—missed him—more than I’ve even wanted to acknowledge, if I’m being completely honest. Add in the reason for his absence, and I’m a mess. Who volunteers for the Make-A-Wish Foundation, anyway? Paxton Six, that’s who.

Shoving the reminder of all things Pax aside, I watch Rory in the kitchen as she finishes zipping her backpack. “You sure you have to go to the library?” I ask.

Rory nods and slides it over her shoulder. “Yeah, sorry. Pretty sure this semester is going to kill me, but you can come with me if you want.”

“And be bored out of my mind?” I shake my head. “You know I love you, but no one can make me do that.”

She laughs. “Well, all right, then. You good hanging out here by yourself? I can always leave Hades if you?—”

“I’m good,” I reply, trying not to look desperate. “Besides, Hades likes to throw off my groove anyway. I’ll just stay here, sneak into your ice cream, maybe watch a movie or two, it’ll be?—”

My phone buzzes, and I look at the screen, finding a message from Pax. My stupid heart skips a beat. I roll my eyes out of principle. Seriously? Come on, heart. You know better than this even if he is kind of perfect.

Sliding my thumb across the screen, I open his message and melt a little more into the cushions on my bed.

Pax

Hey, Birthday Girl.

Me

Why hello, Mr. Security.

Pax

Missing you.

“There’s that smile again,” Rory notes.

Feeling like I got caught with my hand in the proverbial cookie jar, I flip my phone facedown in my lap, jerking my head toward my best friend. “What smile?”

She grins. “That one. I like to call it the Paxton effect.”

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