Page 30 of Broken Deal

“You did what?!” Isabella exclaims.

Aria remains quiet, looking at me dumbfounded. I’ve never seen her at a loss for words. It’s actually kind of unsettling.

I groan, hiding my face with my hands in embarrassment. “Aria, say something.”

Her hazel eyes widen, her mouth barely open. “I have no words,” she mutters.

“I have something to say,” Isabella starts.

Oh, here we go.

I nod, grabbing my glass of wine from the coffee table and taking a hefty sip, getting ready for her speech.

Isabella swirls her glass of wine, letting the red liquid move around as we both stare at her expectantly. “I want to be the maid of honor when you guys get married.”

The delicious, fruity wine I’m currently drinking goes down the wrong way, and I end up spitting it out, patting mychest as I cough and struggle to catch my breath. “Isa, what in theactualfuck?” I manage to ask between coughs.

“I see it happening.” Isabella shrieks excitedly. I can’t decide what’s more unsettling, a quiet Aria or an excited Isabella. “Oh my God, you’re living the book dream. Two players who don’t believe in love fall for each other.”

Someone needs to wake me up, because I must be having a fever dream. I have no words for what Isabella spat out of her mouth. I don’t even know how to start unpacking this.

“First of all,” I say, lifting one finger. “Who knew you were such a romantic? This look is unsettling, please stop. And two.” I lift a second finger. “There will be no falling in love. Especially because I’ve slept with him already, and I don’t do repeats, much less love.”

I realize my mistake a second too late. Aria’s eyes bulge as Isabella lets out the biggest gasp known to man, placing her hand over her mouth in shock.

“Yousleptwith Lorenzo?” she asks in disbelief.

“He’s Mr. Three-Orgasm Guy,” I confess with a grimace.

Isabella starts nodding nonstop as she tries to dissect this information. “My statement remains.”

“For the record, I agree with Isabella,” Aria chimes in.

“Oh, now you have things to say. Goodie,” I mutter under my breath, crossing my arms.

“We should make a bet,” Isabella says, patting Aria on her arm.

“Agreed. I bet he’s going to say the L word first,” Aria pipes up.

“Guys, hello!?” I shout, waving my hand so they can look at me, which doesn’t work.

“And I bet they’re going to have a Vegas wedding.”Isabella grins, clapping her hands a little too eagerly for my liking.

Aria gasps with equal eagerness. “I can totally see that happening!”

“Guys!” I shout again, causing them to startle and look my way. “This crazy talk needs to stop,now.”

There are so many things I could say, I don’t even know where to begin. For starters, I’ve been burned too many times to believe in love. Yes, it’s been three years, but it doesn’t mean it hurts any less. Not only that, but Lorenzo is a player at heart and I’m too pessimistic. We’re the worst combination ever. We don’t fit. We never will. And most importantly—I don’t want to fit. Not with him. Or with anyone, for that matter. Even if my heart is begging me to open myself to the possibility, it should know better by now. That’s never happening.

Always the maid of honor, never the bride. And I’m okay with that. Or at least I’m halfway there.

Always the person who takes care of others, not the other way around. Even though I’m surrounded by people who love me and would do anything for me, I can’t bring myself to allow anyone to take care of me.

I’m the perfect daughter who sacrifices everything to take care of her mom, and I’ve grown to love that role. My mother didn’t choose this life or her condition, and I’m more than happy to be there for her.

I’m the dumb sister who always comes to the rescue, even when Amelia doesn’t deserve it. And I don’t even do it for her sake, I do it for Mom’s.

I’m the perfect junior journalist whose boss takes advantage of her, because I have no other option. If I have to deal with a misogynistic son of a bitch, then that’s what I will keep doing.

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