Page 82 of Play Fake
“Oh, my god. Just pretend I didn’t tell you that. I really, I can’t take any more of this. And I don’t know why she can’t just leave me alone. Fucking telling me I’m doing something wrong. That I’m not good enough. Maybe she should worry about why the fuck she’s out here catching all my leftovers.”
Ezra’s face contorts through a series of emotions, and then he pulls me close and presses me into a tight hug.
“She’s a heinous bitch. Trust me. I learned the hard way, and I’m really fucking sorry you had to too. That’s my fault.”
“Itisyour fucking fault.”
I lean into his hug even as I yell at him because in this moment, it’s familiar, and I’m so fucking blindsided by Waylon’s betrayal I have little energy to be pissed off at anyone else.
“But don’t fucking listen to her, okay? She’s just fucking jealous of you. You’ve never done anything wrong other than trust the wrong people.”
“Yeah, right. I’m sure she is. She looks like a fucking model, and I look like me.”
“She’s… attractive. Yeah. I won’t lie, but there is literally nothing under the surface besides a web of spite and cruelty, held together with vanity and whatever that shit is she’s always coating her lips with.”
“She does wear a fuck ton of lip gloss.” I laugh a little through my tears.
“And it tastes fucking awful.”
“You’re not helping,” I grump.
“Just saying.”
“Oh god. Why does this shit keep happening to me?” I groan into his shoulder.
He pulls me tighter.
“He’s a moron if he made the same mistake I did.”
“He didn’t cheat on me. We weren’t together at the time, but he fucking knew who she was. It’s so unbelievably fucked up.”
“Want me to kick his ass?”
“You mean, do I want you to end up in the hospital? No. You both probably deserve it, though.”
“Would it make you stop crying? If so, I’m up for it,” He gives me a little smile and then whispers, “I’m sorry Zie.” While he kisses the top of my head.
“It’s fine,” I pull back from his grip, realizing sobbing into my ex-boyfriend’s shoulder in the back of a bar is not a great look, no matter what’s going on.
“What’s going on?” Ally appears from around the corner.
“Redheaded bitches, what else?” I grumble.
“You better not be, Ezra. You fucking promised that shit was over.” Ally glares at him.
He throws his hands up, palms out, “Not me this fucking time!”
“What?”
“Long story. Just apparently, she really likes my sloppy seconds.”
“Hey!” Ezra protests.
“Is she wrong, though?” Ally raises her brow at him.
The two of them exchange looks, and then Ally tugs me close to her and walks me back to the green room. She settles me on the couch and gives me a pitiful look.
“Yeah, I know. I’m a mess,” I grumble.
