Page 60 of No Way Home
A quarter mile later, I glanced over my shoulder when I heard footsteps behind me. Bowen. He kept my pace, staying a steady thirty feet in my wake. His eye was swollen and puffy, but he didn't say anything and didn’t try to pass me. With the way his gaze kept shifting to me, then back behind him on the trail, then back to me, it felt like he’d made himself a buffer—to protect me in case Griffin caught up.
Sure enough, by the time we reached the second-to-last obstacle, the Hercules Hoist, Griffin was closing in, a look of all-out furyon his face. He screamed Bowen’s name, along with the nameSelene. I didn’t know who that was or what she had to do with this. But her name made Bowen wince, wipe his eyes, and speed up.
Half of me wanted to sprint as fast as I could, but the other half was worried thatImight need to be a buffer for Bowen. But then, Silas and Lemon came into view, eyes trained on Griff.
Knowing they were behind their boys, I took one more look at Bowen. It was the last time I’d see him for two years. Then I tore off down the trail, running even faster, not caring that my lungs were about to burst.
I slowed for no one and nothing, and I didn’t take a victory jump over the wall of fire that was the finish line. I didn’t deserve it. I just jogged over it, only lifting my feet enough to keep from getting burned. Someone slapped a medal in my hand and encouraged me to take a picture in front of a Spartan Race backdrop. I forced a teary-eyed smile and kindly declined.
As I walked out of the race, using my Finisher tee as a handkerchief, I remember muttering to myself, “Way to ruin everything.”
And I meanruin.
Mayhem. Heartbreak. Regret. It was exactly the kind of fallout you’d expect when a girl kisses her boyfriend’s brother.
What I hadn’t seen coming? Was what Bowen did next.
Chapter Twenty-Two
MAGNOLIA
SIX DAYS POST SPARTAN RACE
I layin bed staring up at the ceiling, dreading the day ahead of me. Everything felt heavy—my muscles, my bones, my heart. The sun had been up for two hours. My alarm had gone off forty-five minutes ago. But there was no reason to haul myself out of bed yet. Not when it felt like I was in mourning. I blinked back tears—every Dupree’s face etched in my memory as the most heartbroken version of themselves, right after the kiss.
I grabbed my phone from the nightstand to distract myself. Instagram should do it. Cat videos, wardrobe polls, personality quizzes. You name it, I could kill some serious time on my favorite social media app.
I tapped on Instagram, but I never made it past the first reel in my feed. Because right there staring back at me was none other than Bowen Davis Dupree. He was sitting in the ‘hot seat’on the set of theBreaking Curfew with Nate Midnight Show.Wearing a black suit and black tie, he looked like something off the cover of a magazine. His hair was pulled back into his typical man bun. But… something was different.
My pulse stumbled. He’d taken out his eyebrow piercing. It felt like a slap across the face.
The camera cut wider and my pulse tripped again. Because more shocking than the missing metal was who was sitting beside him. His old girlfriend, Nova. Hair blown out, makeup on point. The girl was so pretty, I cowered just looking at her. Wearing a tight, deep red mini dress, she sidled up as close to Bowen’s side as she could get, practically in his lap. She looked perfectly cozy tucked under his arm, her long, gorgeous legs crossed elegantly at the knees.
Okay, this felt like an actual backhand.
“Dang, you Duprees are easy on the eyes,” Nate Midnight drawled from behind his desk. Bowen chuckled, like getting hit on by straight, male talk show hosts was commonplace for him. Nate slapped the top of the desk. “So happy you’re here, Bowen. We haven’t had any of your relatives on our set in a long while.”
They hadn’t had any Duprees on their set in a long while because the Duprees had boycotted Nate after he allowed Cash’s gold-digging ex to spread lies about Charlie from the very same couch Bowen was currently occupying. Of all the Duprees who I thought might forgive Nate first, Bowen was at the very end of the line.
Bowen never showed his full face in public. Not on social media, TV, or anywhere else, for that matter. James always teased him that he had a phobia of being turned into a meme. Bowen never denied it. So what was he doing, chilling on late-night TV like it was no biggie?
“Good to be here,” Bowen said coolly. He looked right at the camera, and it felt like his gaze cut straight through the glass and directly into me. He tightened his arm around Nova. “Just wanted to supportmy girlfriendand her upcoming TV show.”
Did he just stab me straight in the heart? It felt like he stabbed me in the heart. My eyes watered and my chest swelled, my lungs unable to contain the hurt. A rogue tear slipped out of my eye. I wiped it away angrily. It wasn’t like I’dlaid around pining, scheming ways to be with him. I hadn’t. Hadn’t sent him a single text. But this just felt hateful. Like he was purposely trying to wound me. Or make a statement. Either way, his message was crystal clear.
Nova tittered and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “He’s so sweet like that. I’m so glad we’re finally back together.”
“Me too.” Bowen chuckled, but then he took a swig from a water bottle, looking super uncomfortable.
“I hope you marry that mindless airhead,” I hissed, “Make a dozen dingbat babies, and she forces you to take duck face selfies every day for the rest of your life.”
Bowen had told me once that things never worked out with Nova because there was nothing inside that ‘pretty head of hers.’ He said he had to carry every conversation, ‘if you can even call them conversations.’ She always steered them back to her career, or how many followers she had, or if he thought it was time for her to start getting plastic surgery.
Nova trailed a fingertip down Bowen’s forearm and I rolled my eyes.
“Nova,” Nate Midnight said, arms out wide. “Tell us all about your new zombie office comedy, ‘Dead on Deadline.'”
“Zombie office comedy.” I huffed.
