Page 110 of Broken Trails
Imogen answers. “Hey. What’s going on?” A long pause stalls the moment before her brows pull together. “Wait. What?”
Isla sits up straighter. “What do you meanwhat?”
Imogen’s face is unreadable. Then she sighs. “Michael’s blind drunk. They tried to get an Uber home with him, but he’s refusing.”
She listens again.
“Oh,” she says, brows lifting. “He wants… Zoe?”
My stomach dips. “What the fuck?” I mutter, more to myself than anyone.
Isla is grinning. Beaming, actually. Imogen looks at me when she says, “Yeah, we’ll come pick him up.”
Isla nudges her arm. “Put him on speaker.”
Imogen taps the screen. “Wait. We?” Xavier’s voice filters through, low and scratchy.
“Yeah. Me, Isla, and Zoe.”
“Oh. I didn’t realise you were together.”
“You don’t have to know everything we do,” Imogen says without missing a beat.
Xavier’s laugh rumbles through the speaker. “Isla, you there, baby?”
“Yep. How’s it going?”
“Well, apart from Michael about to have a breakdown, we’re having a good time.”
“Hopefully nottoomuch of a good time.”
“Not without you, princess.”
I roll my eyes. What is in the water in this town? Are all men the same? Someone calls out in the background. The voice I know unmistakably is Harrison’s.
“Are they coming or what?”
“Yeah, we’re coming,” Imogen confirms, already on her feet.
“Thanks, mama,” Harrison says. “Xav said to take his Tacoma.”
Isla grabs the keys from the bowl by the door and ends the call.
Imogen grabs her bag. “You ready?”
I hesitate, only slightly. “God, help me. He’s already a pain to deal with in general. I can’t imagine him drunk.”
She wiggles her eyebrows. “Exactly.”
I was right. Normal Michael is moody, sarcastic, and impossible to read.
Drunk Michael?
Holy fuck. He’s affectionate.
When we pull up outside Vinette, he’s leaning against the wall outside the bar, arms crossed, head down. As soon as he sees me, his whole face changes—eyes lighting up, shoulders relaxing. That smug, uneven smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.
Bradley is standing off to the side, arms folded. I offer him a small wave and an even smaller, awkward smile.
