“Oh right. And say sorry for smashing you in the face? Sorry my fist just slipped? Sorry that you didn’t tell me you were a fucking billionaire or something and I found out in front of the entire group of my ex-classmates, who by the way used to fucking torment me every single chance they got. Sorry that you made my worst nightmare come true? Sorry that you helped me ruin my life. Something like that?”
Jason snorted. “Jeez. No wonder your love life sucks. I was thinking more along the lines of sorry I lost my temper and acted like a bitch. Come over and I’ll make it worth your while. Something like that. As a guy, I personally wouldn’t say no. I might even think it was a little kinky if a chick punched me in the face. It’s hot if they draw blood.”
“What the fuck? Seriously I do not want to know anything more. I’m not going to text him. Maybe I’ll give you his number and you can do it for me. Say sorry that he’s a dick and sorry that being a billionaire obviously didn’t make him good at honesty or board games. Sorry that he’ll never see or hear from me again. How about that?”
Jason stayed annoyingly calm. He didn’t rise to the bait at all, which was a damn first. “Yeah, sure. Just send me his number and I’ll smooth things over.”
“No. Way. Thanks for trying to help. I really do appreciate it. Can you contain mom and dad for me? I’m not exactly up to damage control at the moment.”
“Sure. But you owe me. Big time.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“If you ever do change your mind and get back together with Trace, like, he owes me a sports car or something. He can afford it.”
“I’ll make sure to pass that along never because I’m never going to speak to him again.”
“Never is a long-”
Ash hung up before Jason could finish the sentence. She powered her phone off and threw it onto the floor. It would have been more dramatic if she didn’t have a throw rug blanketing the hardwood floor. It broke the phone’s fall and instead of smashing, it landed with a dull thud.
Great. I can’t even have a tantrum the right way.
Slowly her hands balled up into fists. She took a deep breath, willing herself to cry, but it wasn’t going to work. She rubbed a spot over the ache in her chest, right above her pounding heart. In the privacy of her apartment, which was the only place any tears over this were ever going to happen, she let herself break down and wallow in the misery that was her life. The fact that she’d ever considered that she was pathetic before was laughable. This was a new record as far as all-time lows went.
CHAPTER 17
Trace
Some mornings were terribly unkind. Apparently, Trace was living through one of them. He groaned as he ran a hand through his unkempt unwashed hair, trying to block out the sound of the shrill ringing cutting through his brain. He unglued his eyes and nearly panicked when he couldn’t see anything. He rubbed his eyes furiously and when he tried again, his living room swam into view. The shapes and shadows and beams of light finally solidified into real shapes.
He scrubbed a hand over his face as he sat up. Pain blossomed in his skull like a damn flower unfurling itself from its tightly woven bud in all its vibrant glory. He was aware, as he pushed himself off of his couch, that there was a half empty bottle of whisky tipped on its side on the floor, which had been full the night before.
The doorbell apparently wasn’t going to stop any fucking time soon, so Trace pushed himself toward it. He straightened his rumpled clothing the best he could before he raised an arm and sniffed at himself. He drew back immediately, stomach wrenching. God, when was the last time that I showered?
Annoyed that whoever was out there was laying on the doorbell like their very life depended on it, Trace ripped open the door, ready to yell at whatever pool soul was out there. God help them if they were trying to sell him something or pedal soul saving pamphlets. He was pretty sure after what he’d done to Ash, he was beyond redemption.
“Surprise!” Leanne yelled. Trace’s mom stood in a red sweater and a black pair of leggings. Her hair was pulled back into a neat bun and her makeup was tasteful. His sister stood beside her, grinning, as equally put together in a casual black maxi dress and a pair of ankle boots. Jenni’s smile faded and his mother’s followed suit soon after. Jenni wrinkled her nose.
“Good lord. What happened to you? It’s Tuesday morning and you look like you’ve disappeared into the bottle for an entire week.”