Page 152 of Messy Strokes (Wrecked Roommates)

“What the hell?” I ask.

“No idea, man.”

“How’d she know your name?”

“No idea,” Jake repeats, his gaze still glued to the hallway she disappeared into.

“You know what?” I set the bottle of gin on the counter and stand up, my legs feeling like Jell-O. “Doesn’t matter. I’m gonna head out.”

Snapping back to the present, Jake slides off his barstool and steps in front of me. “You can’t drive.”

“I’ll take an Uber.”

He pauses, looks me up and down, nods his approval, and moves aside. “All right, I’ll meet you at home––”

“I’m not goin’ home.” The idea alone causes my stomach to tighten in protest.

His fingers dig into the sleeve of my shirt, keeping me in place. “Where are you going?”

“I’ll get a hotel room or something,” I mumble, tugging my arm away from him and heading out the damn door.

I gotta get out of here.

39

Maddie

With Penny pressed to my chest, I sit on the couch in Milo’s house. No TV or lights on. Nothing. Only the sound of our steady breathing and the occasional coo from a slumbering baby. It’d be peaceful if I weren’t so broken.

I’ve been calling Milo, but he hasn’t answered. His phone’s off.

I don’t want to leave. But sitting here waiting for Milo to get home feels forced too.

Besides, it’s not like he wants to talk to me. Not after everything that’s happened.

It sucks.

It hurts.

I close my eyes and press a kiss to my little Peanut’s forehead. She sighs softly but stays asleep.

The rumble of an engine echoes from outside a few seconds later, and I sit up, peeking through the blinds.

My face floods with shame when I recognize the car. It’s Jake’s.

I bite my thumbnail and squeeze my eyes shut as the shadowed body swaggers to the front door and opens it a few seconds later.

Flicking on the entry light, he pauses when he sees me curled up on the couch. “Mads?”

“Hey,” I croak.

“Why are you up?”

“I was waiting––”

“He’s not coming home.”

I slump back into the couch. “Oh.”

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