Page 72 of Not So Happily Ever After (British Bad Boys)
It’s like a physical punch to the gut.How can he say that to me?Before I can stop myself, I round on him. “That’s not true.” Instead of sounding strong, there’s an unforgivable tremor in my voice.
“It is, and you know it.”
Why’s he so mad at me?
I don’t know. Nothing makes sense anymore. Only one thing’s clear. There’s no chance that we’ll stay friends after tonight. Not after the way he’s betrayed my trust by flinging my confidences at me as though they’re of no importance.
I find my inner bitch rocking in a distant corner and drag her out.
“Go away, Will.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Will
The persistent banging in my head doesn’t fade when I open my eyes. My face is squashed against the sofa cushion, and my feet are dangling over the far end. No wonder every bone in my body aches. I didn’t even make it into the bedroom when I crawled into the flat in the early hours of the morning.
I roll onto the floor and stagger into the hall before my mind catches up with my brain, and I come to an abrupt halt.Why the hell did I agree to hang out with Lucas today?
He’s the last person I want to see when all I can think about is Mac. I press my forehead against the wall and screw my eyes shut, but she’s still there. Gorgeous, tempting, and untouchable.
Go away, Will.
The banging starts up again. There’s no getting out of it. Christ, this is so fucking messed up.
I pull open the door and squint in the blinding sunlight.
“You look like shit,” Lucas says with a grin, handing me a takeaway coffee.
I grunt, take the coffee, and shuffle back along the hall. He shuts the door, and we end up in the sitting room, where I sprawl again on the sofa.
“Surprised you didn’t bring a chick back with you,” he says as he makes himself at home on the other sofa. “What happened? Losing your touch?”
I chug down the coffee, relishing the caffeine as it floods my bloodstream. “Didn’t feel like it.”
“That’s a first.”
Why does he sound so fucking cheerful? And just for the record, it’s not a first. I glower across the room at him. “I’m not talking about my sex life.”
“This got anything to do with your mystery girl?”
Jesus, he won’t give up on that, will he. “There’s no mystery girl.” It comes out between my teeth. Not even lying.One last fling before she went back to Uni.Don’t know why that burns me so much. She told me she wasn’t looking for a relationship before we even went to Wales.
She wasn’t talking about me then.
I don’t fucking do relationships, anyway.
In that case, why do you feel like shit?
“Bollocks. I know that look, bro. You’ve fucked up. Am I right?” He tosses another grin my way, and I fight the temptation to give him a black eye.
I’m in danger of crushing the takeaway cup, so I put it on the floor for safety.
“You’re a fucking wanker.” I lean my head back against the sofa and shut my eyes. It doesn’t stop the dull pounding in my brain.
“That might be true,” he concedes, “but at least I’ve got Violet.”
I make a gagging noise, but it’s half-hearted. Hedoeshave Violet. And I don’t have Mac.
