Page 2 of Winging it with My Ex
Holy jalapenos, he smells good—woodsy and crisp. Wow. He’s filled out too with muscles I don’t remember him having. Taller, broader shoulders, thicker, more defined arms… and those intense blue eyes that always seemed to pull me in… Nope! Not thinking about it.
His lips quirk up on one side. Jerky flirt. I wag my finger at him. “We are not friends. You got it?”
Then he does the unthinkable.
His arms wrap around me, pulling me into a hug so tight my breath catches. His lips are dangerously close to the spot that I always loved him kissing. “I’ve missed you, Skates.”
When did his breath get so warm and minty? When did my insides decide to betray me and liquefy again? He broke my heart all the way down to my gallbladder. Doesn’t it remember that?
I push away. “Jett…”
“Look, I know we have a history?—”
A history? The fire ignites again, and it’s volcanic. “You’re right. We do, and it’s staying that way.” I take a step back, cross my arms over my chest, and pinch my lips together. “You and Iaren’t friends. We’re barely co-workers. You do your volunteer work… and leave me out of it.”
I retreat to my desk, sinking into my chair, and flick my gaze up to his silhouette filling my doorway. “You’re dismissed.”
two
. . .
jett
Hadley will probably always hateme, but I didn’t expect every pore to radiate pure loathing. Yeah, okay—I shattered her heart. But I was seventeen. Back then, stupid wasn’t just an adverb. It was a lifestyle.
I stop at my Lambo, closing my eyes as her anger presses against my chest. It’s the same weight I felt walking into my house as a kid, never knowing which version of Dad I’d find—the laughing coach who taught me to skate or the hollow-eyed stranger passed out in his recliner.
Leaving Hadley had felt like the only way to protect her. From the chaos that lived in my family, from the shame of watching me juggle Dad’s rehab and Mom’s stack of unpaid bills, from seeing the guy I was becoming and not recognizing anymore.
The familiar itch of anxiety crawls up my spine. Ten years sober for him, then one bad day destroyed everything he’d built.And now, nine months clean for me after my own spiral when he died. Some days, I still wake up in a cold sweat, terrified I’ve become him.
I check the sobriety tracker on my phone—271 days. Not nearly enough to make up for what I did to Hadley, but it’s a start.
“Jett!”
I turn, and Vivian’s nearly breaking a hip trying to walk-run. She reaches me, slightly out of breath. “Hey, don’t forget you’re a guest on The Morning Skate tomorrow.”
My shoulders round, and I deflate like a busted pool float. Truth be told, most of the time I feel like I’m drowning since I missed that kid’s camp—which I didn’t mean to miss. “Are they going to ask about Camp Junior Blades?”
Six months ago, a scheduling mix-up made me miss the camp engagement. I’ve explained until I’m blue in the face, but the internet doesn’t care. My social media is still filled with angry fans calling me all sorts of things.
“I’m almost one hundred percent sure Greer will ask about it. It’s not going to die anytime soon. Not until they’ve got something else to talk about.”
Well, at least she was honest. Right after the whole debacle, I’d hired an image rehabilitator, and they’d lied like dogs until I realized they didn’t care about me. Just the money.
But Vivian… I tilt my head. “Vivian, I need your help.”
She snorts. “Oh, no. I’m here as media manager for the Bobcats. Not your personal… whatever.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “You broke my best friend’s heart. Ripped it to shreds. She cried for weeks, months after you dumped her. I’m not helping you.”
I rake my hand through my hair, wishing to all things holy I could catch a break, but to be fair, as much as I hated it, I deserved it. All of it.
Did I dump Hadley by text? Yes.
Did I tell her I wanted to pursue my career? Yup.
Did I tell her why I had to do it? No.
She would have tried to fix things, and it wasmyproblem. And I was embarrassed. Everyone thought I had it together. My family was picture perfect… Only the photograph wasn’t telling the whole story.
