Page 7 of Never Been Worse

“Hey, Wes,” I say with a tight smile, giving a tiny wave to the guitarist of Atlas Oaks. Although Jaime is the bodyguard for the band, I’m not sure why he’s here. Over his shoulder, I see Ava give me wide eyes and a smile, always telling me she thinks Wes is the cutest of the AO guys. I roll mine in response.

Of course I’m not oblivious that Wes is cute with his messy, longish, sun-kissed brown hair and the worn, dark brown leather jacket he always wears pulled over broad shoulders in a way that looks badass but also casual, like he’s just a normal guy when he’s anything but.

Andhe’s tall, towering over my five foot five frame.

A deadly triple combination.

“You okay?” he asks, taking my jacket from my hands and holding it up for me, ever the gentleman. At Ava’s wedding, we were paired together as bridesmaid and groomsman, so I’m used to his kindness.

I turn, too tired and burned out and hurt to even argue, and slide my still shaking hands into the sleeves.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lie. His fingers slide gently along the skin of my neck, gathering my hair and tugging it gently out of the neck of my jacket before I turn and give him a smile. “What are you doing here?”

His boyish, crooked smile takes over his face, a stark contrast to the evil one I saw minutes ago, a dimple on his cheek catching my eye. “We were all together when Jaime got the call. As soon as I heard Ava had been arrested, I knew I had to come and see what was up. You three always have the best chaos going on.”

I let out a small laugh and shake my head. “Yeah, getting arrested for littering my ex’s lawn is just…wonderful.”

“Kind of iconic, actually. Very rock star of you. And I would know, you know, being one,” he says. I can’t fight off the smile that tugs at my lips as I give him a shake of my head. “I’m serious. Jagger would be proud.”

“Yes, dumping pounds of glitter onto someone’s lawn is so very rock and roll of us.”

He shrugs. “I don’t make the rules. I just enforce them when I see them,” he says, then holds my gaze for a moment longer than necessary, only stopping when Jaime speaks.

“All right, let’s go,” he says loud enough for everyone to hear. “Before Ava does something stupid and gets all of us locked up.”

Ava shoves his shoulder, or tries to, but the man is a fucking mountain, and she is virtually a Pixie Hollow fairy.

“I’m hungry,” Ava says as Jaime slides her jacket on her, similarly to how Wes just did to me.

“Ava, we ate like…” I look at my watch, realizing it was probably almost five hours ago that we ate dinner. Strangely enough, I’m not hungry at all.

“Exactly,” Ava says, then puts a hand to her belly. “I’m hungry. Let’s eat.”

“My girl wants food, she gets food. Everyone into the SUV. You guys need to get back to Sophie?” Jaime asks Nate, who shakes his head.

“Nah, my sister’s got her.”

“Wes, you got anything pressing?” Wes shakes his head.

“I can always eat,” he says with a grin.

No one asks me, because what do I have to go home to? Still, Wes puts a hand to my lower back, urging me to Jaime’s giant boat of a car before we drive to an all-night diner.

And even though I smile as everyone laughs and jokes about the night, all I can think about is just how lost I feel.

FOUR

HARPER

“Get up,” a familiar voice says as the curtains in the small cottage I’m staying in are pulled back, letting in a flood of light that has me shielding my eyes.

“Wha—” I start, sleep still controlling my body. I wonder if this is a nightmare, another fucked-up creation of my mind.

“Getup,” the voice says, and when I crack an eye open, Ava is standing in front of me, her hand on her hips as she glares at me like a disappointed mother. “My god, Harper, this place looks like you’ve been living in isolation for months, not barely a week.”

“Thanks, I appreciate your concern,” I say as I shift to sit up in the bed, trying to shake myself awake as I take in the inside of the small cottage behind Nate and Jules’s home with skepticism. Okay, so maybe the placeisa bit of a disaster. There are cartons of food in the garbage piled high, and every cup is dirty and piled along the small sink. At some point, I started ordering delivery when I ran out of mugs, and the white paper cups are lined up along the counter.

In one corner is a pile of laundry, and if I’m being honest, I’m not totally sure when the last time I showered was. The only pristine corner of the small studio is where I’ve been working on the gown that’s due to my client in a few days. The nearly finished product is hanging, the beads and sequins glinting in the…midday sun?

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