Page 73 of A Slice of Love

“Save it. I don’t want to hear it. Ican’thear it right now, not after last night—after I stood there and told my parents you were different, that you weren’t going to just lead me on. But here we are again: me giving myself to you, you taking what you want and walking away.” She chokes back a sob. “I’m done with this, Jonas. I’m done with us.”

Grabbing her shoes, she rushes past me.

Taking my heart right along with her.

Slice Twelve

Frankie

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the town hussy, the girl who let the quarterback deflower her.”

Julian slides into the booth I snagged us at Ethel’s Pancake Emporium.

The moment I rushed out of Jonas’ house, I realized I had no way of getting back to my apartment. So, I walked to the nearest restaurant—a mile and a half away, much to my chagrin—and called Julian.

“Nice shirt.” He winks at me, noting I’m still wearing Jonas’ high school tee.

I groan, slinking farther down into the booth. The movement causes my shorts to rub against the beard burn between my legs just right, and I’m torn between crying and moaning at the reminder of last night.

“Shut up.”

“You look…well, freshly fucked. You and Schwartz go for round two?”

That’s all it takes.

The floodgates open.

“Shit, sweetie,” Julian mutters, then he’s crawling onto the bench beside me and wrapping his tree-trunk-sized arms around me and rubbing my back.

He lets me cry it out, not saying anything, just holding me.

I think our waiter tries to come by, but he shoos her away.

I don’t know how long I stay wrapped in his embrace, but when the sobs begin to subside, he pulls my chin up, looking me over.

“Do I need to go kick his ass?”

I shake my head. “N-No, but can you kick mine for falling for his shit again?”

His brows scrunch together. “What happened?”

“He’s leaving me again.”

“Okay…”

“Okay?” I pull away from him. “What do you mean ‘okay’?”

“What else do you want me to say? Did you not think he’d ever leave again? He’s a fucking quarterback with contracts for the NFL. He was going to leave eventually.”

He’s not wrong. I know that, logically.

But tell it to my heart.

It sure isn’t getting the message.

“I…I know that, but—”

“No. No buts, Frankie. You knew it was going to happen so you can’t be upset about it.”

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