Page 33 of Pocketful of You

"I was horny and you were there," he sneered, moving for the door. "That's it."

"Sketch! Don’t you dare walk away from me again –"

"Listen, I'm sorry if I led you on, Romi, but that's all there is to it."

"You're a fucking liar!" I screamed after him. "Wait – don’t go…"

"I'm sorry. I swear it won't happen again," he said before walking out of the locker room, leaving me alone to pick up the pieces of my broken heart.

Yep, it was official.

Sketch Capaldi was the boy who murdered love.

14

Presley

Elle King's rendition ofMy Neck, My Backblasted from the car stereo, making it difficult for me not to throw up a little in my mouth. "What's with the song?"

Noah, whose turn it was to babysit, well,me, shrugged. "My wife made this playlist for me."

"Oh, yeah?"

"She's been doing it since we were teenagers," he explained, as he maneuvered his swanky Lexus through the mountain roads. "Dropping hints in songs. Letting me know what she wants with a mixtape. Playing out her feelings in a playlist." He shrugged and rested one arm against the car door. "It's her thing."

"Okaaay."

Awkward.

I drummed my fingers on my knees, unable to stop myself from blurting, "Well, no guesses needed for what your wifeis trying to tell you with this particularhint."

"I knocked that woman up five times, kid," Noah replied with a smirk. "Trust me, I eat daily."

"TMI, mister," I groaned, stomach turning. "And I thought you said you have four kids?" I specifically remembered two boys and two girls. "Finn, Taylor, Jace, and Erin, right?"

"Einín was stillborn," was all he replied and I felt like a huge douche. "She was our first child."

"Shit, I'm sorry," I muttered, mentally slapping myself in the face. "I didn’t mean to pry."

"It was a long time ago," he replied, jaw ticking.

"Still hurts though, huh?"

He nodded stiffly. "Every day."

For once, I managed to keep my mouth shut, letting the poor bastard brood in his thoughts. It wasn't easy for me, but I managed to restrain myself and give him a few minutes to linger in the past.

"So…how do you know Lucky?" I asked, finally breaking the tension.

"His wife is my niece."

"I beg your pardon?" My eyes bulged in my head. "Just how old is hiswife?"

"Older than me, actually," Noah replied, smirking.

"Jesus, I've changed my mind," I muttered, rubbing my jaw. "I don’t want to know a damn thing about ya'll."

Noah chuckled. "We shared a cell way back in the day."

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