Anne Malcom

“I do want to be at some stupid fucking shoot,” I countered, not addressing the hot coals part since he was totally right. “I want to be anywhere where my best friend—who I haven’t seen in months—is. Plus, a hot photographer is a bonus.”

Wyatt’s jaw ticked in unfamiliar anger. “You’re not fuckin’ a photographer.”

“Since when do you get a say in who I do or don’t fuck

No, I know that we both were dealing with one of the most fucked-up things in this world so we decided to look for something else to fuck up. And that’s what a conversation about us is...a fuck up,” I lied.

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” he hissed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I do know that I’m not falling in love with you,” I said. “Love turns people into fools.”

“Babe, we’re all somebody’s fool.”

Lexie: Are you back in the country yet? I was going to send out a search party. And by me, I mean Wyatt. You were meant to be in Italy for three days. Not three weeks. You missed Sam’s birthday. He says you owe him a Ferrari.

I laughed out loud at the Ferrari comment. The person next to me in the ice cream aisle gave me a judgmental look. Apparently outward happiness in L.A. was so over.

“Dude, you’re buying ice cream at two in the morning just the same as me,” I said, glancing down at his basket. “Just because you’re wearing three hundred-dollar sneakers it doesn’t make you superior to me. We’re both pathetic. Deal with it.”

“Tell you what, sweetie?”

“What it felt like. Losing him. Having your heart broken,” I choked. “You didn’t tell me that it’s like being trapped inside your own skin and you would claw your flesh off if it would only stop the pain. You didn’t tell me that it would be impossible to breathe around it. You didn’t tell me, and you went through that for fucking years.”

I wasn’t numb anymore.

“Oh no,” she whispered. She turned around. “Killian!” she yelled.

He appeared what seemed like seconds later, immediately alert for some threat, some fucking bullet to throw himself in front of so it didn’t hit Lexie. He loved her that much.

A sob escaped my chest as my void moved farther away and pain engulfed me.

“Fuck,” he muttered, taking me in the same second he took his adorable child from Lexie’s arms.

Lexie moved the second she could, yanking me into her embrace.

And that’s where I fell apart.

You’re not gonna write a song about this are you?” I asked, ripping my mouth from his to regard those blue eyes I’d never seen this close. They were clouded with all the whisky we’d both drank. But they were somehow clearer than they’d ever been. But my mind wasn’t exactly clear, so I could’ve been imagining it. I most certainly was imagining it.

“I don’t write songs, words,” he rasped. “I’m the melody guy. But babe, you’re too chaotic to put into a melody.” Then he kissed me again.

And I wasn’t imagining that

No,” Lexie snapped, her normally soft voice a whip. “You are not the woman who blames herself for the actions of some asshole. The fact that he’s made you think that is despicable. I’ll kill him.” She paused. “Better yet, I’ll get Killian to do it for me. I just had a manicure.”

I glanced to her nails, they were light pink flecks of gold. “Pretty.”

She looked down. “I know, right? I thought the gold was gonna be tacky, but it turned out just right.” She looked up. “I repeat, what did he do?”

People were only sympathetic for so long. Then they expect you to get over it. But the truth is, you never do.

I took the test to put my mind at ease more than anything else. I was on the pill, which was why I hadn’t been worried about not using protection...on the night. Other than STDs, of course. But I didn’t worry about that, not with Wyatt. Even as drunk as he was, I believed him when he’d told me he’d never taken anyone else without a condom but me.

“I don’t want anything between us, baby,” he growled. “I’ve always protected myself with everyone else, but not with you.”

“You look different, though,” Wyatt continued

You look different, though,” Wyatt continued