“If I did, would you give it?” I counter.
He shrugs one shoulder, scratches his jaw, and drops his hand to his side. “Probably not.”
“Then, I guess it’s why I didn’t ask permission.”
He scoffs, lifts one brow as if to say, touché, and asks, “How long?”
“Made it official tonight,” I answer.
“And before?”
“She came over the night you two broke up. She was looking for you. Wanted answers.”
“And you gave them to her. Didn’t you?” He scoffs again, unable to help himself. “You were always an asshole, Colt. I guess I shouldn’t expect anything different, huh?”
I ignore the sharp pain in my chest but don’t bother to defend myself. Because he’s right. I was a shitty friend for going after someone who wasn’t mine, let alone someone who belonged to one of my best friends. Ash and I might not have hooked up until after Logan ended things, but I still crossed the line with her. Still wanted more from my buddy’s ex. That’s on me.
“I’m sorry, Logan.”
His head hangs between his shoulders as he looks at the ground. He scrubs his hands over his face again and pastes on a stupid, fake-ass smile. “You know what? It’s fine. She and I weren’t happy anyway.”
I stay quiet, refusing to confirm his assessment even though he isn’t wrong. They weren’t happy. I could see it. Theo could see it. Everyone could see it. But seeing her happy with me? It’s gotta be a shitty hand to deal with. Seeing your ex with a stranger is one thing. Seeing them with one of your best friends?
It’s a bitch.
“You should invite her over,” he decides. “You know, so we can sweep the past under the rug. Turn over a new leaf.”
I cock my head. “You sure?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“All right,” I reply. “Maybe after spring break or something.”
“Good.”
Without another word, he leaves the kitchen, his footsteps echoing up the stairs while leaving me hollow inside.
Because even though he was an ass and we had our own problems, I didn’t want to hurt him. I only wanted to move on. Who would’ve thought it would be with his girlfriend, though?
Karma really is a bitch.
46
ASHLYN
“Why are your boxes so heavy?” Mia groans, helping Blakely move another box in from the U-Haul parked out front. Colt insisted they could fit all of her things in the back of his truck, but Becca thought it was better to rent a trailer and be safe rather than sorry.
Blakely squints and reads the chicken scratch scrawled along the cardboard box in Mia’s arms. “Probably because you grabbed a weight box.”
“A weight box?”
“You know, full of weights. It’s not my fault I can’t afford a gym pass.”
“Those are weights?” I ask.
“Yeah. My mom let me take the weights from home,” Blakely replies.
“There are weights in this thing?” Mia screeches.