Page 119 of Make Me Sin (Bad Habit 2)
I swallow, looking down. Without thinking, I turn my head and find A.J. staring right back at me.
Like it always was, our connection is instant and electric: a jolt of sizzling heat, a plug into a socket.
I feel like I might faint. I suck in a breath. His gaze flicks to my mouth, then flashes back up to mine. When I see the look in his eyes, that endless dark longing he used to look at me with, my heart stops.
He doesn’t look away. Neither do I. My hands shake so hard the flowers in my bouquet tremble.
I’m finally able to break eye contact when Kat meets Nico at the end of the aisle. The wedding officially begins, but I don’t hear a word. I don’t see a thing.
All I’m aware of is the burning heat of A.J.’s gaze on me the entire time.
Misery: noun, plural miseries. 1. wretchedness of condition or circumstances. 2. distress or suffering caused by need, privation, or poverty. 3. great mental or emotional distress; extreme unhappiness. 4. a cause or source of distress.
“Yep,” I say, staring at the dictionary app on my cell phone, “that’s just about covers it.”
“Put away your damn phone and go dance,” Jamie says
, snatching my cell from my hand.
I grimace. “With who? My baby daddy, or his paid-for piece on the side?”
“There’s no reason to wallow, bug, it’s unbecoming. It’s like the line from that Metric song, ‘There’s no glitter in the gutter.’”
I glare at him. “Don’t you talk to me about gutters! You’re the genius who told me I might find a diamond there, covered in mud, and mistake it for a turd. Well as it turns out, counselor, it actually was a turd!”
I’m at Jamie and my parents’ table because I couldn’t stand one more instant at mine, which was inconveniently right next to A.J. and the whore’s. The reception is in full swing. The main course has been served, the band is halfway through their first set, and I’ve never been so miserable. Hence the dictionary lookup; when Jamie asked me how I was doing, I wanted to be sure I was using the right word to describe my current condition.
Jamie sighs and looks to my mother for help.
She pats his hand. “Leave her be, James. She’s earned the right to be miserable.”
I raise my water glass in a toast to my mother.
Glowering at A.J. across the room, my father mutters, “I’ve got half a mind to make someone else miserable right about now.”
“Thomas,” my mother says without moving her lips, “you will not embarrass us at Kat’s wedding. For goodness’ sake, behave yourself!”
Other than the four of us, our table is empty, as are most of the others in the ballroom. Everyone else is on the dance floor, having a blast. Everyone but A.J. and Heavenly that is, who are sitting at his table, deep in a heated conversation. They both look pissed.
I hope they’re arguing about the virulent strain of herpes she’s given him.
“Dad,” I say, trying to distract myself, “did you get my message this morning?”
He turns back to me, frowning. “No. What message?”
“About what Eric left on my car.”
My father sits up ramrod straight in his chair. “What?”
I nod. “When I went out to my car this morning, Eric’s badge was sitting in the corner of my windshield. I put it in my purse.”
His eyes bulge. “Did you see him?”
“No.”
Jamie and my father share a look.
“Is it a violation of his restraining order?”
