Page 108 of Every Time My Heart Breaks

When my phone buzzed with an incoming text, my heart rate accelerated.

God, what if it was Luke? What if he couldn’t sleep either? And he begged me to let him come over right now because he missed me too? There was no way I’d be able to tell him no.

“Please don’t be Luke,” I chanted as I reached for my phone on the nightstand. “Please don’t be Luke.”

I looked at the screen. It said Trick’s name.

All the hope that I’d secretly had, wishing it was Luke, crashed violently against the inside of my rib cage. And my heart broke all over again.

Dammit.

Wiping my face, I sat up and read the message from my brother.

I’m here. About to knock on your door. Please don’t freak out.

“What?” I said aloud, blinking at the words just before a knock echoed through my house. “Oh…” He was here. “Shit.”

I wiped at my eyes again, making sure they were dry—and thank God they were—then I scrambled off the bed, wondering what Trick was doing here in the middle of the freaking night. This had to be pretty serious.

What if someone was hurt or…I don’t know. I couldn’t think of a reason beyond that.

So when I jerked the door open and saw Trick standing there, physically struggling to hold up a haggard-looking Luke who was leaning on him heavily, I gasped, certainLukewas injured.

“Oh my God, what happened?” I demanded, stepping forward.

But then Luke lifted his head and offered me a big, sloppy smile. “Hey…” he greeted with a halfway intelligible slur.

I pulled up short, blinking at him, then turned to Trick. “Is he drunk?”

“Yeah, sorry,” my brother gushed. “And he insisted on coming here. I mean, hereallyinsisted. But I can take him to his place. I swear.”

“No.” I hissed out a sigh and rubbed at my tired face. “It’s fine. Just…bring him in.” Still trying to calm my racing heart, I stepped back to let them both inside.

“Oh, thank God. Where does he usually sleep?” Trick asked as he dragged the stumbling man over the threshold. “The couch?”

“I don’t sleep on the couch, bitch,” Luke garbled out, scowling at Trick, even as he leaned heavily against him.

“The couch is fine,” I said.

Luke gasped and sent me a betrayed glance.

“And don’t call my brother a bitch,” I scolded him mildly.

“But he’s being a little bitch,” Luke mumbled petulantly. “He didn’t want to bring me here. He was gonna keep me away from you.” Glancing up at me, he batted his lashes before he added, “Can you believe that shit? He wasn’t gonna let me see you.”

When Trick unwrapped Luke’s arm from around his shoulder and gave him a firm nudge, Luke went tumbling backward until he fell heavily onto the couch.

Then, Trick immediately turned to me. “You sure about this?” he asked. “Because I can take him home.”

“No. Seriously, it’s fine,” I said, touching his arm with a warm smile before frowning and saying, “Is your jaw bruised?” I squinted and leaned closer. “Your jaw is bruised. What the heck happened to you?”

Trick sniffed as he narrowed his eyes past me toward the couch. “Ask the drunk.”

I whirled toward Luke. “Did you hit my brother?”

He sent me a big, loopy smile and openly admitted, “As hard as I could.”

“What?! Why?” I sputtered.

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