Page 49 of The Last Love Song
She could feel Wade’s surprise as he faced her. But her focus remained on J.D., trying to gauge his reaction. His shoulders fell. The heavy baseball bag he’d been carrying thunked to the ground.
“What are you talking about?” J.D.’s voice cracked.
“Are you going to deny you wrote that smut about me?” The fury she’d felt on seeing all those rude words burned like bile up the back of her throat. Later, she’d figure out what to say to Wade. How to make him keep it a secret.
Right now, it was all she could do not to fling herself at her ex-boyfriend and pummel him with both fists.
J.D. held up both hands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He hauled his bag off the ground and looped the strap on his shoulder. “Get out of my way.”
“You’re going to get caught,” she yelled at his retreating back. “It’s illegal!”
Wade dropped an arm around her shoulders, the warm weight taking some of the fight out of her.
“Let him go, Meg. We’ll get it sorted out another time.”
She sucked in a deep breath, the cool night air easing her fury and leaving her wrung out. Exhausted. Confused.
“Did he look guilty to you?” she asked, startled when Wade jogged a few steps ahead to peer around the bleachers.
“He’s gone and so are all the rest of the cars in the lot.” Wade dropped onto one of the bleacher seats, the metal bench clanging dully. “Sit for a minute.”
“I. Um.” She stared at the empty space beside him and her throat went dry. “I really need to get home.”
“What website?” He rested his elbows on his knees.
Swallowing hard, she shook her head, her face hot. If Wade saw what was on there, she would die.
“It’s too embarrassing. I don’t want to talk about it.” Her voice rasped, a barely-there whisper. Just thinking about what it said made her close her eyes tight. She hated seeing it even in her mind.
She didn’t want anyone else to look at it. Ever. Especially Wade.
“I can’t help if you don’t talk to me. And for what it’s worth, I don’t think J.D. is sending those texts, but he looked freaked out about the website. Whatever that is.”
“It means a lot to me that you helped me confront him.” She kicked herself for saying anything about the stupid website. “Please don’t ask me to talk about the…the other stuff you heard. I can’t do it.”
She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stay warm. Too bad most of the chill came from inside her.
“Keeping this stuff secret only helps the person who is harassing you. You know that, right?” Wade pushed to his feet and slid off his sweatshirt.
He dropped it across her shoulders, a warm welcome weight.
“You should keep it,” she argued, reaching to take it off.
He gripped one of her hands to hold it still.
“Let me fix one thing for you tonight. Okay?” He sounded so exasperated that she nodded.
“Thank you.” Gripping the lapels with her hands, she tugged the fleece cotton tighter around her. “I hope you’re not mad at me.”
He paused, staring at her intensely. “God no. I could never be mad at you.” Swallowing hard, he looked away but kept an arm around her shoulders.
Together, they headed for his truck parked on the street at the far side of the field. The damp grass soaked through her canvas tennis shoes.
He squeezed her shoulder once. “Don’t worry so much about how other people feel. You need to look out for you.”
“I can’t help it.” She glanced up at him through her eyelashes. “I care a lot what you think.”
He slowed his step as they reached his pickup, a vehicle he’d salvaged with his friends from shop class. Her dad would have called it “souped-up” since it combined parts from different kinds of trucks, but somehow worked together.
