by Monroe, Max
My hands were shaking. My knees felt like they would buckle any second, and my heart raced. Apparently, when you see your ex-boyfriend—who is supposed to be in Brazil—kissing another girl on a giant baseball stadium screen that is, in fact, located in the fucking United States of America, even your body’s most basic instincts start to break down.
“What the hell, Lucky?” Allie questioned as she paced in front of me. “What in the hell just happened?”
I didn’t know the answer to her question, but I certainly wanted to find out.
“I’m fucking calling him,” I muttered and rummaged through my purse to find my phone.
“Do it!” Allie cheered me on. “Bloody call that bastard!”
Looking back on this now, I don’t know that Allie was the best person to have by my side in that scenario, but by God, she cheered me on like my own personal Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader.
With my heart pounding and Allie’s overzealous encouragement, I didn’t stop to think, I didn’t hesitate, I acted. I tapped Tiago’s name in my contacts and called the bastard.
He answered on the second ring, the prompt asshole.
“Luciana, how are you?” he asked, his stupid sexy Brazilian voice a muffled whisper into my ear.
I imagined him covering the receiver with his hand in an attempt to hide the sounds of the Yankees crowd in the background. Apparently, he wasn’t quick enough to think to use his companion’s giant breasts as a soundproof barrier.
Even though Allie was bouncing around beside me, urging me to rip Tiago’s balls off, which, let’s face it, wasn’t exactly doable in my current telephonic situation, I took a deep breath and attempted to play it cool.
“I’m good,” I said, my voice a combination of sugary-sweet and phony as fuck. “How’s Brazil treating you?”
“It’s definitely good to be back home—” his voice dropped even lower “—but I do miss you.”
I nearly gagged at his words.
Apparently, I’m horribly averse to the rich sweetness of a goddamn liar.
“You know, I’ve been thinking,” I smarted, really laying on the faux charm. “I have a few weeks of vacation stored up. How about I come visit you?”
“Uh…visit me?” he asked and paused for a long moment. “Like, visit me in Brazil?”
“Of course in Brazil, silly.” I faked a giggle. “I mean, where else would I go to visit you?”
The phone went silent, so I took it upon myself to continue the line of conversation.
“I could book a flight right now,” I said. “It looks like I can be there as early as Saturday.”
“Saturday?” he questioned. “Wait…are you looking this up right now?”
Clearly, I wasn’t actively looking up flights on my phone, but he didn’t know that.
I ignored his question. “Oh, wait! There’s a flight Friday.”
“That’s in two days,” he said, and I didn’t miss the nervous lilt of his voice.
“I know,” I purred. “Only two days and then you won’t have to miss me.”
“Lucky…I…” He paused, and like I was a lioness hunting her prey, his hesitation only urged me further.
“Or I could just meet you by the concession stand right now?”
Boom! You lying motherfucker! Take that!
He paused for a good ten seconds before quietly asking, “The concession stand?”
“Yeah,” I confirmed. “At the Yankees game. You could introduce me to your new girlfriend and maybe, you know, explain why I saw you on the fucking Kiss Cam in the middle of Yankee Stadium, when just two days ago I took you to the airport for your flight to Brazil.”
The phone went quiet. My anger did not.
“You’re an asshole,” I finished, pulling the device from my ear and winding up to smash the end button so hard Tiago would feel it in “Brazil.”
Allie, not yet satisfied with the licks she’d gotten in, snagged the phone from my hand before I could make contact and yelled one last insult. “If I ever see you in the streets, I will rip your fucking balls off!”
And, with her finger pointed toward the end call button, she added, “This is Allie, by the way!” before hanging up.
Even now, I feel compelled to tell you, Allie…that was probably one of my favorite things I’ve ever heard you say.
I can still picture you turning your finger-formed-gun to the side, real gangster style, as you yelled it.
More than that, though, I’ll never forget the way you pulled me into a tight hug and told me the things I needed to hear.
You really are the best friend a girl could ever have, and I’m so lucky—Ha!—that I’m the one who has you.
I’m still not sure how you convinced Vanessa to move that meeting to the next day, but I am sure you did it.
Because you’re always looking out for me, even when I’m not looking out for myself.
Which is clearly pretty often.
[laughs]
If Allie hadn’t forced me to go out that night, I probably would have wallowed in my apartment, clinging to the pathetically apologetic text messages Tiago insisted on sending.
Really, they were winners.
I’m so sorry, Lucky.
I didn’t want to hurt you.
Please don’t hate me.
I want to explain.
[sighs]
Luckily, the mix of alcohol and Allie’s colorfully creative suggestions for where Tiago should take his penis and shove it took the night in a different direction.
No more Tiago. No more bullshit.
And while he isn’t the main focus of this story, he was an important catalyst.
I needed to make some serious changes when it came to men. My name might be Lucky, but when it comes to love, I am anything but.
And jerks? Well, they were the first thing that needed to get the fuck out of Dodge.
[laughs]
Oh, guys…
Too bad I was just days away from meeting the biggest jerk of all.
Are you ready to meet the biggest, sexiest jerk of all?
C’mon you know you want to. ;)
Grab The Day I Stopped Falling for Jerks today!
First of all, THANK YOU for reading. That goes for anyone who’s bought a copy, read an ARC, helped us beta, edited, or found time in their busy schedule to help us out in any way.
Thank you for supporting us, for talking about our books, and for just being so unbelievably loving and supportive of our characters. You’ve made this our MOST favorite adventure thus far.
THANK YOU to Basil and Banana.
THANK YOU to our amazing readers.
THANK YOU to all of you awesome and supportive bloggers.
THANK YOU to our editor, Lisa.
THANK YOU to our beautiful formatter with beautiful formats, Stacey.
THANK YOU to Jenn and Sarah and Brooke and everyone else at Social Butterfly PR.
THANK YOU to our Camp Love Yourself Members.
THANK YOU to Ansel and Indy for inspiring us so much during the process of writing this book.
And last, but certainly not least, THANK YOU to our family.
Basically, thank you to everyone we love and adore! Our readers, our bloggers, our fellow authors, our entire team, just everyone!
We love you tons and tons and tons!
Max: Like a lot.
Monroe: Yes. Like so much.
Max: Sooooo much.
Monroe: Exactly. We love you soooooooo much.
Max: An insane amount of love.
Monroe: A crazy, insane, unbelievable amount of love for you guys.
Max: It’s like if you could fit all of the love in the world into a bottle, we’d need at least five of those bottles.
Monroe: Probably more like twelve.
Max: You’re right, we’d need twelve of those love bottles even to come close to how much love we have for you guys.
Monroe: A twelve-pack. Of love bottles. [looks at Max] I think we nailed it.
Max: [grins] And that’s a wrap, ladies and gentlemen!
Seriously, thank you for letting us do what we love every single day.
Our forever gratitude and a twelve-pack of love bottles,
Max Monroe