Page 1 of Breakaway Heart
PART I
1
ESCAPE
“Are you watching this?”
“I literally can’t look away!”
It was true. Watching Randall Jackson’s sub-human antics on Celebrity Love Villa was like hot buttered popcorn for the eyes. I was glued—along with the rest of America—to the complete disaster-class occurring on-screen as Randall doubled down on his shocking behavior.
“So, let me get this straight,” Hannah’s voice echoed through the loudspeaker on my phone as I watched Randall offer his partnership bracelet to the third girl in two days, having bedded the first two already, “Lucy Heaton is at a luxury resort, full board, ocean view, hot guys by the pool in just their teeny tiny shorts, and you’re holed up in your room, eating ice-cream and watching Love Villa?”
“Your point being?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Well… You know, has anything happened?”
“Happenedhowexactly?”
“Like, anyone interesting there?”
I sighed and put down the tub of ice cream. “Hannah, I’m here for a break. That includes guys.”
“Rightttt,” I could literally hear her eyes rolling down the phone, “You could be back in Merryville doing that.”
She wasn’t wrong. I mean, there was that one guy I met on the first day. Nice teeth, thick hair, good abs. After a few tequilas, he’d laid it on pretty thick. Fortunately, I turned down his offer of a roll-around in my room, and—hindsight being the truth sayer it always is—thank God I did. Seeing as the next morning, I ran into him, looking very pale and uncomfortable with his fiancée at breakfast.
It was safe to say my idea of love was really going through a testing time. Literally, everyone seemed to be a nightmare waiting to happen.
“You think Randy’s getting voted out at the next fireside chat?” Hannah asked.
“I’m obsessed with watching him, but he’s the absoluteworst. He has to go, surely. It’s either him or Barbie Becca.”
“Ugh, she’s so goddamn fake. Also, how’s that soccer player still in the villa?”
“I swear there’s nothing but baby oil in his sun cream bottle, he’s the shiniest slipperiest thing I’ve ever seen. Oh my God, Hannah! Now Randall’s doing press-ups to try and impress Mandy Max!”
“Haha, Mandy’s walked away, and he’s still going!”
“What is wrong with that man? He’s like an eager cock in human form.”
I reclaimed my tub of ice cream, squirted some more whipped cream on top, and took another scoop while watching.
Honestly, I don’t know when things ended up like this. I’m not talking aboutme. Or the fact I was on an enforced two-week holiday in Mexico. But this odd world whereeveryone just seemed to want to suck all the good stuff out of everyone else, while they continued acting like a complete ass all the time, thinking nothing of it. And this summer’s TV highlight, Randall Jackson, was the poster boy for that right now.
Rich, arrogant, misogynistic, didn’t use his brain (c’mon, he’s a hockey player, it’s not like he’s working on quantum physics or curing cancer), and somehow…somehow… That’s all okay. And, in a few months, he’ll be on some underwear billboard that I have to drive past every day on my way to work.
Watching Randall crash and burn in excruciating fashion on Love Villa was enjoyable for now, but of course, he’d come out of it unscathed, and probably only with more fame and multi-million-dollar endorsements to his name.
Which comes back to my point. Where have all the good guys gone? The ones who listen, who respect you, who open doors and notice your perfume, who lift you up because they don’t want to own you or steal your very essence. Someone who actually gives a damn about another person.
“Lucy! He’s… Oh, my God… He’s actually hard.”
Randall was now talking to Tina. The obscenely attractive, big boobed, big lipped, bleach blonde, doe-eyed daughter of the actor Malcolm Freestone. Anditwas showing through his sweatpants. Anditwas at least half-excited right now.
“She hasn’t even noticed yet!” Hannah gasped.
I took another big scoop of ice cream and pushed it into my mouth, hating that my brain was strangely fizzing with delight at the idea of what was going on in Randy’s pants.
