Page 32 of Beautiful Broken Love

No. I’m keeping it. Congrats on making it into my 1%.

I bit back a grin, then shook my head as a hopeless sigh escaped me. I had a feeling he was going to do that—make me feel special, singled out,important.

And though any woman in the world would’ve been thrilled about a famous athlete flirting with her by email, I just couldn’t be that woman right now.

Thanks for including me. I’m honored.

I stopped typing, hovering over the Send button.

No.That couldn’t be all. I did the dry-and-short thing last time.

Deke was a good guy. I needed to be honest with him now before it was too late, so I continued my email:

But I feel like I should let you know I’m a mess and am still grieving my husband. I don’t want to lead you on or anything. I’d love to keep talking to you and we can keep checking in with each other but can it be as friends?Just friends?

I bit into my bottom lip and pressed Send. Had to rip it off like a Band-Aid. If I didn’t do it now, I never would.

Two hours passed. I cleaned up with Tish before she left, and there was still no response from Deke. I changed into pajamas and mentally debated about whether it was the right thing to tell him. That email was a little rude ... but it was true, and I didn’t know how else to explain it.

Around eleven o’clock that night, there was still no response.

I sulked on the couch, stealing glances at my phone as the TV played an episode ofMartin. Maybe I was too harsh. Octavia always said I was too direct with text messages. She’d say if she didn’t know me personally, she would never be able to tell if I was joking via text.

I picked up my phone and read my email again.

I cringed.

I mean, who italicized the wordsjust friends? That took effort and placed way too much emphasis on the matter. I groaned, knowing damn well I wasn’t going to hear from him again. I wouldn’t blame him.

Toward midnight, I crawled into bed. I sank beneath the comforter, nestled my head into the pillow, and forced my eyes shut.

Sleep wasn’t going to happen. This was a known fact. My sleep schedule was so jacked up now, but I was going to try anyway.

As I turned onto my back, my phone buzzed, and I gasped as I scrambled to pick it up. I opened the email with a smile, but that smile slowly slipped away when I read his response.

You got it, D.Just friends.

He’d italicized the words too.

Okay, good.

That’s exactly what I’d wanted him to say ... so why the hell was I so disappointed with that?

SEVENTEEN

DEKE

“I feel like my boobs look way too big in this dress.” Whitney huffed a breath as she shifted next to me and adjusted her black halter-top dress.

“They look good to me,” EJ said, his eyes sliding from Whitney’s chest to her exposed legs and thighs.

“Fuck off, EJ,” my sister muttered.

I slapped his chest, and he broke out in a laugh.

“What?” he exclaimed with a stupid grin. “I ain’t gonna lie about it. They look good.”

We were on our way to Golden Oil Co.’s relaunch party, which had been rescheduled three weeks out from the original date.

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