Page 34 of Pieces of Me

And stupid, pitiful me.

“Well, I was just leaving.” I don’t even wait for a response. Instead, I rush to the door and leave, passing the picnic setup as I go.

Tears well in my eyes, and a sob lodges in my throat, because how could I be so fucking pathetic?

“Jamie!” Holden calls after me, and I can hear his footsteps close. Too close.

“Fuck off!”

“Jamie!” He grabs my arm, spinning me to him. Whatever he sees on my face has his falling. His gaze shifts from me to his house, over and over. Slowly, carefully, he moves me behind an enormous tree trunk, hiding me from his girlfriend. From the world. “It was just a joke…” he says, his eyes searching mine.

“You kissed and touched me likethat, as ajoke?” I say, teeth gritted.

Holden doesn’t respond, just continues to watch me.

“Well, congratulations,” I murmur, shrugging out of his touch. “Because you sure made me feel like one.”

He shrugs. “Sorry,” he says, but it’s clear as day…

He’s not sorry.

Not even a little bit.

17

Holden

The first thing I stopped remembering about Jamie was her laugh, and hearing it now—it’s like a sudden piercing pain through my chest.

To be honest, after the shit I pulled yesterday, I wasn’t sure if I’d hear that laugh again. It was a dickhead thing to do, but I apologized, she didn’t accept, and that was that. I wasn’t going to grovel for her forgiveness, especially considering she never once asked for mine.

Her laughter comes in waves, I remember now, quiet at first, and then everything unleashes. I remember watching her once, remarking how much her laugh suited her smile—suitedher. It was hard to get out of her the few weeks after the attack, but slowly, surely, I brought it back. A little for her, but mainly for me. I needed to know that what happened to us wasn’t going to break her, and I would’ve done absolutely anything to make sure of it.

I stop my work in the greenhouse so that I can hear it again. “It’s so much harder than it looks,” Jamie laughs out.

A male responds, but it’s not who I initially assumed she was talking to. “Yeah, you’re sure making it look harder than it is.” I instantly recognize the voice as Colton’s, myfriend, and remove my gloves, throw them on the bench, and make my way out. I have no idea why he’s here, but him—aroundanygirl—is a problem. I still cringe whenever I think about that one time he laid a hand on Mia’s leg, and her now-husband, Leo, almost choked him to death.

Colton’s a couple of years older, and we’ve always gotten along because we like to party the same way. The two of us—back in the day—are who the moms around here warned their daughters against. The difference between us? I’malwaysrespectful. Colton has a habit of teetering on the edge. And fuck if I’ll let him do it with Jamie.

They come into view the moment I step out of the old barn. Across the driveway in the parking lot, Jamie’s in denim shorts and a loose black t-shirt that hangs over one side, revealing her bare shoulder and hot-pink bra strap. And then I take note of the rest of her:

helmet

elbow pads

knee pads

rollerblades.

Goddamn, she’s cute.And it pisses me way the fuck off.

She’s taking baby steps, no actualrollingto be seen, her arms out to attempt some form of balance.

Too late, I notice what Colton is doing, and my blood simmers, my anger brewing, raging just beneath my flesh.

He’stouchingher.

He has his hand curled around her waist while the other holds her forearm steady. “You got this,” he encourages.

---