He laughs, and my heart hurts at the flood of memories. Of how we used to talk so easily, how we used to laugh so much…

“Go get your guy. Surprise the shit out of him.”

He says it in an easy tone, but I wonder if this is hard for him. Watching me go to another guy.

God knows it’s hard for me to walk away from this guy for another.

Our gazes hold, and, not for the first time, I’m struck by just what a bad idea this road trip was, rousing up memories that should have been left behind. And I’m fast learning that the good memories hurt even more than the bad ones.

I open the car door before I can say something utterly dumb. “I’ll text you,” I say, climbing out carefully so as not to flash anyone. Even so, I can feel Reece’s gaze on my ass.

When I glance back, his look is defiant, daring me to call him out—daring me to acknowledge the tension between us.

Instead, I slam the door and turn on my heel, refusing to let him continue messing with my head.

The restaurant has an outdoor seating area, but it’s empty, and I quietly open the door, heart pounding with…something. Excitement, I tell myself. I am excited to see my boyfriend.

I resist the urge to see if Reece and Horny are still at the curb and let myself inside the restaurant.

It’s mostly quiet. A guy and a girl speak Spanish as they put out place settings on the tables, sparing me only a quick, dismissive look before going back to their conversation.

A bartender comes in from the back, liquor box in hand, and gives me a friendly look. “Lost?”

“I’m looking for Oscar.”

He gives me a once-over, then shrugs. “Back office, I think. Last door on the right, past the bathrooms.”

I smile in thanks, and this time when I make my way toward Oscar, I really am excited. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him and—

Déjà vu.

The absolute worst kind of déjà vu.

My boyfriend is in his office. But he’s not alone.

He has one arm around the waist of a sultry brunette, the other splayed across her ass, and it takes him a full ten seconds to register my presence before he pulls his mouth away from hers.

Oscar stares at me in shock, then horror, and then somehow it gets worse, because the girl lets out a startled giggle and lifts a hand to wipe her coral lip gloss off my boyfriend’s mouth.

For some reason, that hurts the most. That casual, intimate gesture that tells me this isn’t a first kiss, not a drunken one-time mistake.

No actually, that’s not what hurts the most.

What hurts the most isn’t Oscar’s betrayal. It’s that it reminds me of a betrayal six years ago, one that hurt about a thousand times more than this one.

All of a sudden the pain of that memory comes crushing down on me, so heavy I feel my knees buckle.

I turn just as Oscar says my name, but this utterly shitty tableau isn’t done with me yet.

Blocking my escape is none other than Reece Sullivan.

My heart twists. I can’t. I just can’t right now.

Wordlessly he holds my cellphone out to me. “Fell out of your bag in the car.”

I force myself to meet his eyes, wanting to know how much he saw. He’s not looking at me.

His gaze is locked on Oscar. And from the murderous look on Reece’s face, he saw everything.

Chapter 16

Reece

I have a choice: chase after Lucy, or drive my fist into the face of the shithead who made her cry.

At first, I’m thinking the first—I care about Lucy a hell of a lot more than this asshole.

But then I see it. I see that instead of looking absolutely ravaged by just losing the best girl he’s ever had, Oscar turns to the other girl. The one he’s been making out with, wraps an arm around her shoulder, as though to protect her from the inconvenience of witnessing his brokenhearted girlfriend.

I want to kill him.

It’s been years since I communicated with my fists. I grew out of it sometime in high school when I realized most people just aren’t worth the trouble. This guy, though—he has it coming. Because Lucy’s worth it.

I don’t make a big production out of it. I take a few steps forward, wait until he pulls away from his new girl with a vaguely mocking What are you gonna do about it? expression.

The crack of my knuckles against his nose tells him exactly what I’m going to do about it. Always go for the nose. Sure, the right hook to the jaw makes for better action movies, but a broken nose leaves a nice reminder. And I want this dick remembering what he lost—who he lost—every time he looks at that crooked nose in the mirror.

The girl makes a squeaky noise, trying to pull Oscar’s hands away from his nose as he stares at me in pissed disbelief, but I’m done here.

I’ve illegally parked Horny a half block up on the curb, and I curse when I see that Lucy either didn’t see the car, or opted not to seek refuge there. I put my hands on my hips, trying to figure out where she could have run off to.

And if there’s a sick sense of déjà vu lurking in the back of my consciousness, I ignore it. I can’t afford to think about that now. Can’t afford to think of six years ago when the one she’d been running from was me.

That day, I’d let her go. A mistake. Not one I’m going to repeat today.

I scan the nearby businesses. Starbucks, shopping, a bunch of restaurants…

She wouldn’t go into any of those. Not while she was crying. She wouldn’t want to be seen all blotchy; she’d want space….