“Thanks. I think.”
Pure emotion is rolling off him in waves. “That’s not our issue at all, Addison.”
“What is our issue, Jake?” I approach him now, grip his shoulders, and look him in the eye.
“I can’t do this,” he murmurs.
“What can’t you do?” Are you fucking kidding me? He’s bailing. He doesn’t even have to say the words, I can see it written all over his face. I love him. I gave him everything, learned to trust, and he’s bailing.
“I can’t do us.”
“Well then, you’ll need to leave.” I keep my face perfectly clear of any emotion and my body doesn’t move, until he’s gone and I shut the door behind him.
I sit blindly at the dining room table and brace my head in my hands. I’m too stunned for even tears to come, and I’m not even sure why. Why does this surprise me? This is what happens. People leave.
The only person I can depend on is me.
“PASS ME THE bottle,” I say, reaching toward Kat for the bottle of tequila she just opened. All five of us are sitting on Cami’s living room floor, getting drunk. We each have a shot glass, and a fork for the chocolate cake sitting in the middle of us. “Thanks for coming, guys.”
“Hey, we have rules,” Riley says, watching me pour some tequila in my glass. “If there is a death, a birth, or a breakup, we come. No questions asked.”
I nod, then throw back the shot, enjoying the way it burns down my throat.
“Besides,” Cami says with a grin as she takes a bite of cake, “I enjoy our she-woman-man-haters club nights.”
“I’m not a man hater,” I say with a shake of the head. “The one I love is just dumb.”
“Totally dumb,” Kat says, raising her glass in salute, then shoots the liquor back.
“Did he say why he was dumping you?” Mia asks. She’s lying flat on the floor, staring at the ceiling, her long, dark hair spread out around her like a halo.
“Not really.” I shrug, and take the bottle back from Riley. “He ranted for a while about having to be away from work too much, and some other stuff that I didn’t quite understand, and then he just said he couldn’t do us and left.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Cami says with a frown.
“You keep that bottle,” Kat says and returns to Cami’s kitchen for more liquor.
“Is there any of that whipped vodka in there?” Mia calls out. “I want something sweet.”
“Yes,” Kat says with a grin as she returns with the bottle Mia asked for, along with a can of whipped cream. “There’s this too. It has alcohol in it.” She sprays some of the whip in her mouth and hands it off to Cami, who takes a bite of cake, sprays some whip on it, and stuffs it all in her mouth.
“I hate it when men are dicks,” Riley says with a frown. “Like, why do they have to be dicks?”
“Because that’s what they’re thinking with. Their dicks,” Mia says with a sigh, then swigs directly from the bottle before passing it back to Kat. “It’s like they don’t know any better.”
“Bullshit. They know better.” Cami points her fork at Mia. “Dickery is a chosen attitude.”
“Dickery.” I snort, then laugh out loud. God, I can’t feel my lips. I shrug and take a swig of tequila out of the bottle. “I just hate it when they just leave.” I fling my arm out, driving my point home. “They just leave, and you don’t know why. There is no reason. I mean . . .” I scrunch up my face, trying to find my words. “Maybe there’s a reason, but they don’t tell you.”
“Exactly,” Riley says with a nod. “Because they’re chickenshit.”
“And there’s the dickery.” Cami stuffs more cake in her mouth. “Fucking dickery.”
“Sometimes their dickeries are fun,” Kat says with a wink. “Lots of fun.” She points at Cami and squirts more alcoholic whip in her mouth. “God, this is strong.”
“God bless the man who put alcohol in whipped cream,” Mia says.
“It was probably a woman,” I reply. “On a night like this.”
“Well, God bless her,” Mia repeats, then stares at me with one eye clenched shut. “Did you know that if you close one eye, then switch to the other, it looks like stuff moves around, but it doesn’t.”
“Mia’s drunk!” Cami announces and she and I clink our bottles in celebration.
I dive for the cake, stuffing way too much in my mouth, making me cough and spew chocolate pieces all over the carpet. “Sorry, Cami.”
“Meh.” She shrugs. “I’ll vacuum tomorrow.”
“I have good friends,” I say with a sigh, after I swallow the cake and take a swig of tequila. God, this shit is good. “Like, the best friends ever. I don’t just have a person, I have people. How many bitches can say that?”
“Four others that I know of,” Riley says with a laugh. “We are lucky to have a tribe.”
“We so are,” I say, patting her pretty hair. “Your hair is so soft.”
“You know who has soft hair?” Cami asks, her voice really loud. “Landon.”
“Are we talking about Landon?” Kat asks. “I thought he was still off-limits.”
“It’s a dumb-man party,” I point out. “I say let’s talk about all the dumb men.”
“Except, he’s not dumb,” Cami says sadly. “He’s really, really, really smart. He was the valedictorian of his class.”
“That doesn’t make him smart,” I reply, but then frown. “Wait. Maybe it does.”
“He’s dumb for hurting you,” Mia says. “But he doesn’t even know he’s doing it, which makes him doubly dumb.”
“I think he might now,” Cami says softly, tears forming in her eyes. “But I think he just doesn’t care.”
“Landon would care,” I say with a frown. “Landon is a good person. He wouldn’t be dickery with you. He loves you.”
“But he doesn’t love me, and that’s the problem.”
We all nod, understanding what Cami means perfectly.
“Well, I’m gonna text Jake,” I decide with a nod. “I think I should. He shouldn’t get the last word.”
“Do it!” Mia says, clapping her hands. “Let us take a picture of your tits and you can send him those too, so he remembers what he’s missing out on.”
“No,” Riley says, shaking her head emphatically. “All of that is a very bad idea.”
“You’re right.” I nod and smile at Riley innocently. “I won’t send him a picture of my tits. But I can still text him and tell him his dick is too small.”
“Is it small?” Mia asks, shooting up into a sitting position, then nearly falling over again. “Whoa!”
“No. It’s actually really good-sized.”
“Damn,” Kat mutters. “And he’s good with it. You told me that, I think.”
“Really good with it,” I confirm. “I’d never had an orgasm from penetration before.”
“That exists?” Cami asks in surprise.
“You mean, Brian never did that for you?” I ask her.
“Unfortunately, Brian is not as gifted in the dickery as Jake.” She snorts, then starts to laugh, and we all join her, finding this news hilarious. “I need to know what all the fuss is about.”
“So, Brian’s nice, but he’s not great in the sack,” I say, now petting Cami’s hair. “Your hair is soft too.”
“Why are you petting everyone?” Kat asks.
“It’s soothing,” I whisper loudly to her. Geesh, she is not maternal at all.
“Brian is good with his tongue,” Cami says thoughtfully. “But the rest? Meh.”
“Then why are you constantly trying to set the man up?” Mia asks.
“Well, what was meh to me might be wowza to someone else. It’s all subjective.”
We nod in agreement. I mean, she makes perfect sense. And then I remember that I was going to text Jake.
“I have to text Jake.” I crawl across the room to fetch my handbag, and Kat comes after me.
“No, you don’t.” She reaches around me, fumb
ling for my phone, but I hold it close to my belly and bend over, out of her reach. “Give me your phone, Addison.”
“Let her text him,” Mia yells.
“No, she should not text him,” Riley says.
Kat tickles me and I squirm, losing my grip on my phone, and she plucks it out of my hand.
“You’re strong for someone who thinks the gym is a weapon of mass extinction.”
“Mass destruction,” Cami corrects me, still eating cake.
“That’s what I said.” I turn back to Kat and hold my hand out. “Give me my phone.”
“No.”
“Yes!”
“Addie, look at me.” There are two of her. “You will regret this tomorrow. Do not text him. Don’t give him the satisfaction of that. He broke up with you, sweetie. You can’t text him: it makes you look weak and pathetic.”
I stare at her, blinking rapidly as the tears begin to come. “I never told him that I love him.”
“Ah, baby,” Kat says and pulls me in for a hug.
“I trusted him. I let my guard down with him.” I pull out of Kat’s arms and plop down on the floor in defeat. “I told him everything about the modeling days.”
“Everything?” Cami asks in surprise.
“Everything. I told him about my parents, and I let myself be vulnerable with him. I snuggled with him, for fuck sake, and I hate to snuggle!”
“Boy, don’t we know it,” Riley mutters and swigs her vodka.
The sobs are coming hard now, making me shake with every breath I take. I’m pretty sure snot is running down my chin.
And I don’t freaking care.
“I fell so hard for him! Most of the time I don’t give any fucks. Not one. But this time I gave fucks,” I say to Cami, who nods with wide eyes. “I gave lots of fucks, Cam. I’m a prostitute of feelings.”
“I don’t think you need to call yourself a feeling hooker,” Mia says wisely. “Having feelings is good.”
“Having feelings fucking sucks,” Kat mutters with a shake of the head. “Especially when it comes to men, because when we care, we give them the power to stomp our hearts into dust.”
“We do,” I say between broken sobs. “And it hurts so much, you guys. I didn’t know I could hurt like this.” I shake my head violently. “I didn’t know.”
“This is why you can’t text him,” Kat says and brushes my hair back over my shoulder. “Because he’ll respond, and then it’ll just keep hurting.”
“I don’t want it to hurt anymore,” I whisper and wipe at my eyes, then stare at the mascara smeared across the back of my hand. “I’m so tired of hurting. I’m so tired of being thrown away as if I’m nothing.”
“You’re not nothing,” Riley says, her voice hard and angry.
“But they toss me aside like I’m nothing,” I reply, wiping at the other eye.
“Who are they?” Mia asks.
“Men. My parents.” I swallow hard. “Jake. Jake tossed me aside like I’m nothing. And that one hurts the most because I could see a future with him, you guys. I’m not saying that I’d picked out a dress or anything, but he was just so easy to be with, that when I thought about being with him forever, it didn’t scare the piss out of me.”
“That’s so sweet,” Cami says, wiping at her own eyes.
“I know.” I sniffle and wipe my nose with the back of my hand. “Are there tissues?”
“I think we’re all too drunk to try to go find some,” Mia says. So I just wipe my nose again on my shirt, then lie down flat on the carpet, my face cradled on the back of my hand.
“I miss him already.”
IT’S REALLY, REALLY bright in here. And my eyes are closed. I groan and open one eye, just a slit, to find that all of the lights are still on in Cami’s living room, and all of my friends are passed out on the floor and the couch. Actually, it looks like Cami and Riley are cuddling on the couch, both snoring.
At least I’m not the only one who snores.
I roll onto my back and the first wave of nausea kicks in violently.
So violently, that I stand up and run for the bathroom, then when I get there I fall to my knees and throw up into the toilet. So much that I’m pretty sure I just lost some vital organs.
Suddenly, someone presses a cold washcloth to my neck, but I can’t even look back to see who as I continue to hurl. My stomach is heaving so hard I can’t breathe and I can feel my face going beat red.
God, this hurts.
Everything hurts.
“Oh my God,” I wail when I’m able to take a breath, my face still halfway into the bowl.
“I’m so sorry, Add,” Mia whispers, rubbing big circles around my back. She flips the cloth over so I get the cool side on my skin. “I’m so very sorry.”
“Make it stop, Mia.” I’m begging and sobbing, and then throwing up some more. I can’t stop throwing up.
I can’t stop hurting.
“It’ll get better,” she croons, holding my hair back. “I know it hurts so much now that you want to die, but it’ll get better. I promise.”
Mia would know. Mia’s been here.
I lay my cheek on the toilet seat and try not to think about the fact that my cheek is on a toilet seat. I don’t think it’s wise to move yet.
“He said he couldn’t do it, and when I asked him what he couldn’t do, he said he couldn’t do us.”
“Bastard.”
“But he didn’t tell me why and that hurts almost as much because I don’t know what I did wrong.”
“Oh sweetie, I don’t think you did anything wrong.” She’s brushing her fingers through my hair, soothing me.
“I must have done something, Mia. You don’t dump someone for no reason.”
“Dickery,” she whispers, making me chuckle.
“The thing is, he’s not a dick. But I guess he’s not my problem anymore.” That makes me tear up all over again. “I miss him.”
“I know.”
“I loved the way he touched me. He made me feel important, Mia.”
I hear her sniffle, making me cry harder. I’m so fucking sick of crying. “And I hate sounding so damn whiny, because I’m not a whiner.”
“You’re entitled. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet.”
I nod, but that makes me nauseated all over again, so I spend the next five minutes, which feels like at least an hour, heaving into the toilet.
Finally, I’m gripping on to the lip of the toilet weakly, my shoulders shaking. “I don’t think I have anything left in me.”
“Are you sure?” Mia asks.
“Yeah.”
“Okay, stay put, I’m going to get this rag cold again and I’ll help you to Cami’s spare bedroom.”
“Mia?” I grip onto her hand before she can back away.
“Yeah.”
“Love you.”
“I love you too, friend.”
Chapter Sixteen
Jake
I couldn’t go home. I’d just get lectured by Max, or worse, I’d deck him and fuck that friendship up, and that would just add more shit to an already shitty day.
Maybe the worst day of my life.
Because I had to let her go, and it was the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done. When I close my eyes, all I can see is the heartbreak on her gorgeous face and it makes me feel like a grade-A piece of shit.
Which, I am.
But it’s better to hurt her now, before we get in too deep and before I do something that does far more than just hurt her feelings.
No, I couldn’t go home. Instead I came to a bar on the outskirts of Hillsboro, not far from my house. I’ve been here all morning. I think it must be sometime in the afternoon by now because a new bartender came on shift, replacing the young redhead who served me all morning.
I don’t really fucking know what time it is. Or care.
The middle-aged bartender wipes down the bar with a white rag and nods toward my glass. “Get you another?”
I nod. “Jack and
Coke.”
He turns to fetch my drink, then slides it over to me, and just as I’m lifting the glass to my lips, I hear next to me, “Well aren’t you the sexiest thing I’ve seen in here in a while.”
The stranger’s voice is rough from too many years of cigarettes. I ignore her, sipping my drink, hoping she’ll just take the hint and go away.
But she doesn’t. Damn it.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” she tries again.
No, you haven’t. I sip my drink again, still ignoring her.
“Hey,” she says and lays her hand on my arm. “Are you okay?”
Finally, I glance over at her, barely taking in blond hair and bright red lips. I shake my head and raise my glass to my lips. “I’m not interested in whatever it is you’re offering.”
“How do you know?” she asks, still touching my arm. “I like your tattoos. Why don’t you tell me what you are looking for?”
I turn on my stool, getting a good look at the bad dye job on her blond head, with at least two inches of brown showing at the roots. She’s tried too hard with her makeup, probably taking the same amount of time as Addie to get ready, but instead of looking natural and classy, her heavy hand with eyeliner and blush just makes her look trashy.
Her white T-shirt is too tight, her denim skirt too short.
“You wanna know what I’m interested in, honey?” I ask her.
She bites her lip, twirls a strand of hair around her finger, and nods.
“She’s about five foot ten, with natural blond hair the color of morning sunshine and eyes so blue you could drown in them. She’s got curves for days, and her legs are so long they make a man sit up and beg for her to wrap them around his waist. She’s sassy and kind, and has the wittiest comebacks of anyone I’ve ever met.”
“She sounds impressive,” the woman replies, then smiles. “But I bet I can make you forget her.”
“No.” I turn back to the bar and lift my glass, knock back what’s left, and signal for the bartender to give me a refill. “You’re wasting your time here.”
“Well, I’ll be right over there if you change your mind.”
Her heels click as she walks away, and I don’t even give her a second glance. Did I really used to think that women like her were attractive? Because there was a day when I would have taken her up on her offer. I would have taken her into the bathroom, locked the door—or not, I didn’t give a fuck—and fucked her brains out, then gone about my way.
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