Page 66 of Give Me Perfect Love

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” I shake my head and look to the floor. “It was all pretty mind-blowing. Bethany revealed Mills was my real dad. All of this took place outside, by the way, during a hellish snowstorm. Bryce and I finally went back to our hotel, leaving Bethany and Mills in the parking lot of the bar.

“I’m not sure what they talked about, but I’m sure it wasn’t the greatest conversation. Apparently, he was in love with her, so all of this hurt him pretty bad.

“When Bryce and I got back to our room, I finally opened up to him about my past. I told him everything I just told you. He couldn’t deal, so he went back to the bar, got drunk and into a fight with some locals.”

“Wait. He got into another fight?” Claire asks after taking a drink from her glass.

“Oh yeah.” I nod. “That was the first fight. He then got into a second fight when we got back home. Some guy ran into him at the gym?” I roll my eyes. “I don’t know. And then, of course, the shit show at the club.”

“Good God,” she says.

“I know. I’m not sure what to do about him.” I sigh. “He told me he loved me before I left for Saw’s.”

“What? Kat, are you serious?”

“Yeah. And then I told him I loved him after he, Mills, and I burned Saw’s house to the ground.”

Her jaw falls to the floor. “We need more alcohol.”

And I can’t help it. I burst out laughing, because even though all of this is real and disturbing as hell, it’s so nice to talk to my best friend. It’s so, so nice.

__________

I’m walking into Mugs & Books with my newfound goodies from the antique place and my mind on the new letter I got yesterday. I’ve decided I won’t be accepting any more of those. They only seem to bring me stress, fuck with my mind, and ruin my mood. I place my things on top of the counter and hang my hands on my hips as I look around.

Old wooden floors have been shined and the place smells like fresh paint and new beginnings. The winter wind swept in behind me and I hear the heat kick on through the open ceiling. I remove my coat, sliding a finger along the wooden countertop and grabbing a Hershey’s kiss from the candy bowl.

The place is polished and looks brand new. I decide tomorrow I’ll put a tree up and hang some lights to make it look like Christmas. I walk around the counter and start unloading vases and pillows when the bell on the door dings. Shit, I forgot to lock it back.

“Sorry, we’re not open yet,” I say as I look up. A heart that’s hanging on by a thread kicks up and shriveled veins stretch out as blood pumps me back to life.

His hair has been cut, his beard grown. A long-sleeved blue jean shirt covers a tatted-up body, and black jeans make him look mouthwatering. Bryce wears Nikes and an expression that I can’t read as he looks around the place.

I wish I had on makeup and I looked half as good as he does, but my heart hasn’t wanted to play dress-up, so a gray hoodie and jeans are what we got. I swallow the kiss when he speaks.

“I hardly recognize the place,” he says.

I link my fingers together in front of me and nod. “Yeah. Looks great, doesn’t it?” My heart hammers against the skin on my neck and I thought I had our relationship figured out, until he showed up and ruined it all with his good looks and killer style.

His attention turns back to me, azure eyes giving me a once-over before landing back on my face. “You’ve lost weight,” he points out.

“And you look fantastic,” I reply with a hint of resentment in my tone.

“Looks can be deceiving, baby,” he replies, deadpan. I look down. We haven’t seen each other in over a week, and it’s been pure hell. I’d love nothing more than to run to him and forget about this stupid idea of a break I had, but pride is a bitch and self-punishment isn’t something I’m unfamiliar with. Plus, there’s the whole shitty issue we have with jealousy and tempers.

Bryce and I are full of chemistry, but we can’t get the science right.

I guess that’s what happens when two broken people try to make it work.

Sexy in dark jeans walks in farther. He tilts his head slightly. “Need any help with this?” he asks, looking at the bags on the counter.

“No, thanks.”

He nods and walks over to the wall of shelves, skimming over the books now placed there. “The extra space really helped out. The kitchen back there?” he asks, pointing toward the other side that was once something else before we bought it and tore the wall down.

“Yeah, just through that door.” I nod at the silver swivel door.

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