Page 9 of This Wild Heart

“Damn,” Vida whispered.

“Let’s all take one, shall we?” I said smoothly even though my throat felt raw. How could they know that I’d never said that out loud? To anyone.

Anya’s eyes were locked steady on mine as she sipped her shot, only finishing half of hers. I took mine with a quick jerk of my neck and slammed the glass down on the table.

“Vida. What’ve you got for me?”

She hummed. “After two years of building my nonprofit from the ground up with the help of tremendously generous people, my grant just ran out, which was my primary source of funding, and I’m not sure what I’m going to do.”

Vida took her shot, Anya watching her friend with sad eyes.

“How much do you need?” I asked. “I’ll write you a check.”

Anya raised her hand. “I offered too. I just need to find a husband and bolt down to the chapel, and I’d be loaded,” she said, drawing out the last word.

Now it was my turn to have my mouth fall open.

“What now?” I asked, head tilted.

Anya waved me away.

Vida grinned. “Let’s talk tomorrow when we’re all sober, all right?”

I stared at Anya for a few more seconds before I nodded absently at Vida. “Fair enough.” I turned toward Anya. “And what about you, my lady? No one as pretty as you should have anything to be sad about.”

She groaned, eyes glinting in the dimly lit bar as she smiled. “You’re so terrible at this that I can’t even be surprised that you’re single.”

I leaned closer. “So you were surprised I was single at the wedding? Tell me more.”

Anya pursed her lips. “That’s a horrible pickup line, and you know it.”

“It’s not,” I stated. “You always accuse me of such horrible things when all I’m doing is telling the truth.”

“Holy shit, this is like watching the start of a porno,” Vida whispered.

Anya slapped her friend’s arm.“Vida.”

“What? Like the really high-quality kind. You’re both just so attractive, it’s hurting my eyes.”

“Come on.” I nudged Anya’s foot under the table. “Tell me.”

Anya sucked in a deep breath, blowing it out through puffed-out cheeks. “I got fired a couple of weeks ago because of downsizing, and two days later, a story went public about how my fiancé’s been cheating on me with at least six different women for the entirety of our relationship. Three of whom were prostitutes that he’d spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on over the past year and a half.”

For a beat, I just stared at her.

“Max Bridges cheated onyou?” I asked. “The meathead linebacker with no neck and the IQ of a lamp post?”

Okay, so I googled it after meeting her at the wedding. I went back to my room with another piece of cake and googled Anya Hennessy.

Vida slapped the table. “That’s what I said. He’s not even that cute!”

“He is cute,” Anya protested.

“Oh no,” Vida murmured.

“What?”

She sighed, gesturing to Anya. “Here we go. She’s kind of an emotional drunk.”

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