Page 37 of How to Get Revenge on a Cheating Ex
I have no idea why that phrase makes my pulse race, but it does nothing to help my temper. “You gotta decide, Bailey. What do you want to do?”
Her gaze meets mine and she draws her lips in, mashing them together as she takes a deep breath.
I half expect her to tell me she’s still not sure, but she surprises me with a short nod and a steely look of determination. “I want to make him pay.”
Triumph and something so freakin’ hot and fierce I don’t know what to call it has me grinning. “That’s my girl.”
ELEVEN
MY GIRL
Bailey
My first thought:What have I gotten myself into?
But this is followed closely by a far more pressing concern. “How are we going to do this?”
I’m following Zack down to the lake because apparently now that I’ve agreed to go along with the crazy revenge scheme he has in mind, he’s forgotten that he hates the cabin, and this lake, and…you know…
Me.
He ignores the question. Of course he does.
Histhat’s my girlcomment is still ringing in my ears and it has me glaring at his back. “Condescending prick,” I mutter.
He stops long enough to turn and face me with a look of feigned shock. “Why, Bailey Tucker. Are you cursing back there? I thought you were biologically incapable.”
I set my hands on my hips. “I can curse. I just choose not to.”
“That’s right, I almost forgot. Saint Bailey holds herself to higher standards than us mere mortals.”
I stop for a second, shocked at hearing the nickname I loathe. “How do you know Janie calls me that?”
He laughs as he shakes his head and waves to a cousin who’s setting up a fire pit on the far side of the property.
“I don’t think I’m a saint,” I say. “I just think cursing is crass.”
He scoffs and my frustration grows in direct proportion to his amusement.
Once more, he’s off, striding toward the lake as I hurry to keep up.
“Having standards isn’t exactly a bad thing, you know,” I say. “In fact, having some standards might be good for you?—”
He cuts me off with high-pitchedmeep-meep-meepnoises, like Beaker from the muppets as he imitates me.
I sigh. “You are such a child.”
He laughs, and honestly I haven’t heard him sound this genuinely happy in ages. He’s gone from grumpy party pooper to happy camper so quickly my head is spinning.
And all because I’d said yes to this stupid plan.
This stupid plan which…I have yet to learn. “So, what does this entail exactly?”
He’s walking so quickly I’m practically running to keep up with him.
“Hey, talk to me.”
But when we reach the lake, hecan’ttalk to me. We’re surrounded by his family, which includes a whole bunch of little ones I’ve never met before, a few of his cousins who’re close-ish in age to us who I vaguely remember, and two uncles who insist on calling me Little Bailey Tucker, like ‘little’ is actually part of my name.
