Page 8 of Winging it with My Ex
“You can’t tell me what to do!”
His kissable lips pinch together. “The kids came for a picnic, not a show.”
Right.
White shirt. Duh.
I unlock my knees and drop thinking Jett will let go. Instead, he goes with me.
“You don’t have to keep holding me,” I hiss.
But then I look up at him.
Lightning is striking in broad daylight as our eyes lock. My brain has me frolicking through a field, holding his hand, and I’m laughing. That was supposed to be my future.
Our future...
“You dumped me, Jett. Do you know how much you hurt me? I loved you. I loved you with every atom in my body. I would have given up everything to be with you. Why? Why did you leave me?”
If anyone asks what’s streaking down my cheeks, I’ll say it’s sweat or pond water. I won’t admit I’m crying over the boy who left a Jett-shaped scar on my soul.
His fingers lift to my face, and he pushes my damp hair back. “And?—”
A flash blinds me. I turn my head and nearly puke.
Standing on the shore of Briarwood City Park is Greer Davis, host of The Morning Skate, and she has an entire media crew with cameras pointed directly at me and Jett. That heifer has a smile so wide and teeth so bright, I’m questioning whether she’s actually human and if I’ll have retinal damage from her fluorescent dental work.
She turns to one of the cameras and says, “Ya’ll, have I got some tea! Remember Jett and Hadley? Look who it is! Briarwood’s golden couple, back at it again!” She turns to us. “Jett and Hadley, high school sweethearts turned sizzling second chance?”
What sort of nightmare scenario is this?
“Put the shirt on.” Jett barks as he tries to shove my arms through the arm holes of his shirt.
The moment it’s on, I robotically begin tromping through the water, murder on my mind. Greer Davis is about to find out just how refreshing this pond is.
Just as I reach her, Vivi wraps me in a towel. “Oh, girl, let me get you home.”
“First, I have to throw her in the pond.” I fight to free myself of Vivi.
“Hadley, your mug would be all over the news.”
“As if it won’t now? Did you not just see that?”
Splashing catches my attention, and I look over. Jett is hauling himself out.
I look like a drowned cat. He looks like dark-haired Chris Hemsworth, raking his hand through his thick locks while everything is in a slow-mo, close-up of his chest.
I actually hear a verbal wow.
It’s me. I said it.
How does someone who broke my heart still make it beat faster than anyone else?
My chin touches my chest as I hang my head.
My luck has hit rock bottom, and I need to go home. I just can’t Hadley today.
***
