Page 24 of The Girl I Once Loved

“Daisy.” He sighs in frustration. “You know how important family is to her. She’s determined to win them over for my sake, even though I’ve repeatedly told her that they’re not worth the hassle.”

“Hate to break it to you, D, but when Daisy gets something into that thick skull of hers, not even the Almighty himself can change her mind.”

“Don’t I know it.” Derrick chuckles proudly. “Anyway, you good here?”

“Yeah. Go and deal with your shit. I’m just going to hang here for a bit longer.”

But instead of leaving, Derrick throws me an inquisitive look.

“You’re not going home?”

“Actually, I was thinking of crashing here tonight.”

“Is that what you were thinking of doing?” he says with a frown. “And will you be sleeping here for the entire summer too?”

“Haven’t decided yet,” I quip, pretending that the gleam of disappointment in his eyes doesn’t faze me in the least.

“You’ll have to go home eventually.”

“Eventually doesn’t mean tonight, now does it?” I retort while making myself comfortable by grabbing a beer and lounging on the helm seat.

I’ve lost count of how many beers I’ve had today, but apparently, they weren’t enough if Derrick’s scowl can so easily dampen the light buzz I got going on.

“Isn’t there some place you need to be?” I ask when it looks like he’s no longer in such a rush to leave.

“Yeah,” he mumbles under his breath, finally turning his back to me to make his quick getaway.

Unfortunately, Derrick doesn’t so much as take two steps before he’s turning around to face me again, obviously not done with giving me a hard time.

“Shit. I shouldn’t be telling you this,” he starts hesitantly, “But you’ll find out eventually. Might as well come from me.”

“What are you on about now, D?” I ask, feigning boredom.

“They broke up.”

“Who broke up?” I parrot, confused.

“Take a wild fucking guess, asshole,” he chides with a poignant look.

Suddenly, the clarity of what he’s trying to convey slaps me across the face and sobers me up, better than a hundred cold showers ever could.

“Not sure why you would think I’d be interested in knowing that,” I explain with a bored expression stitched to my face, but even I’m not buying the bullshit I’m selling.

“Right. Why would that interest you? My bad,” he says, his sly grin just another rude insult to the open wound that is my fucking heart.

“You still here?” I counter, making a show of stretching my legs, so he can see that I’m not one bit rattled by the news.

His teasing smile drops from his lips and is replaced by one of brotherly concern and affection.

“Go home, Noah. Don’t pretend you don’t want to. You might not get another chance like this one again. Just…go home.”

And with that parting advice, he goes off into the night, leaving me to stew in my seat.

Fucker.

I’m of two minds to pick up my phone and text the prick that he should find himself another best man for his wedding just to fuck with him since its apparent he takes great joy in fucking with me. First, he orders me to be on my best behavior and not do something stupid—like mess with his fianceé’s maid of honor—only to tell me hours later that she’s back on the market, knowing full well what that would do to me.

They broke up.

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