That could not be my future.
“You don’t want that, do you?”
“Thatch wasn’t turning me into that,” I said defensively. Even though a small part of me knew that if I was willing to overlook cheating this early on in a relationship, then I had already lost a part of myself, an important part. I frowned. “What the hell!”
Avery jumped back.
I clenched my fists. “I was going to take him back!”
Her eyes widened.
I cleared my thoughts with a shake of my head. That bastard! I was going to sacrifice my pride for him! And he shut the door in my face!
In. My. Face.
“What’s this revenge you speak of?” I asked, feeling the best I had in weeks, probably because I suddenly realized I wanted to be angry at him, not sad because of him. I wanted to cut off his balls and feed them to piranhas while he watched.
“First.” Avery moved my hand away from her arm—apparently, I’d been squeezing her skin between my fingers. “My arm isn’t his face. Second.” She grinned. “I got Lucas drunk and got dirt on Thatch, so much dirt that I turned into a dirty little girl and—”
I covered my ears.
“Just making sure you’re listening.” She winked. “Let me put it this way. When a guy screws you over, cheats on you, and you’re the one in bed eating all the calories and hating life? Well, we don’t get sad, we get mad.”
“Madness is insanity. It’s not actually anger, Avery.”
“‘Anger’ doesn’t rhyme with ‘sad’—work with me here.” She clapped her hands in front of my face. “Okay, I’ve breathed through my mouth enough—go shower before they send in the hazmat people.”
I rolled my eyes. “Stop being melodramatic.”
“Your mom found a mouse yesterday.”
I let out a snort. The only time my mom came into my room was to steal my clothes. The ones she fought tooth and nail to fit into. Spin classes were her addiction—then again, she had a sweet tooth too, so she had no choice but to take a daily class in order to stay perfect.
For my perfect father.
For our perfect family.
I gagged.
“So?”
“In your room. I’m pretty positive it died from Cheetos consumption.”
“You’re lying.”
“It had a bloated stomach. We had a funeral for it and everything.”
I rolled my eyes at her clear exaggeration and slowly walked toward the bathroom, stopping once I was at the door and turning to whisper, “Thanks, Avery.”
“For what?”
“Kicking my ass.”
“Oh, that part comes later.” She winked. “Just remember . . . revenge can be sweeter than”—scrunching up her face, she made a circular gesture around the room with her arm—“whatever the heck you have going on in here.”
I nodded and shut the door.
She was right.
I was going to destroy him.
And when I was finished?
His heart was going to be shattered and scattered—just like mine—just like mine still was.
Chapter Two
THATCH
“I’m sorry, what the hell did you just say? You were mumbling.”
Lucas covered his mouth with his hand and said something under his breath about being drunk and a turkey.
“You did what with a turkey?” I shook my head. “Because you really don’t want to know what I’m thinking right now.”
With a sigh, Lucas dropped his hand and took a long sip of coffee. We’d been sitting at Starbucks for the last five minutes while he mumbled about needing to tell me something important.
I checked my watch. “Look, I have surgery in an hour, so if you could just”—I lifted my hands in the air—“be normal, for one second, that would be fantastic.”
He’d been my best friend for four years, and the best wingman a single guy could ask for. Until he put a collar on his dick and gave his girlfriend, Avery, the leash.
Pain sliced through my chest.
I ignored it.
Heartburn.
Regret.
Really it was all the same.
“I may have gotten drunk,” Lucas finally said. His dark eyes darted between me and the coffee cup, then back at me. “And . . . said stuff.”
“Lucas Thorn.” A woman, probably one of his many exes, walked up.
“Not now,” he said in a bored voice. “I don’t have a list anymore.” He was referring to the list of women he picked from—women he used to date and cheat on, all the while telling them it wasn’t cheating if they were aware it was happening.
So basically, on a scale of one to ten, Satan would have been a ten, Lucas would have been a nine point five—ask any of the scorned ones.
One hissed in our direction once—I half expected her to throw holy water in his face and demand he burn in hell.
The woman looked between us, said under her breath, “Still a bastard,” and stomped off.
“You got drunk,” I repeated, completely unfazed since the man would always have women falling all over themselves for his attention. It was his thing. It would always be his thing. “And said stuff.”
“Important stuff.” He winced. “Shit, I’m just going to come out and say it.”
“Thank God.”
“I told Avery about you.”
I froze, opened my mouth, then froze again. “And when you say you told her about me, I’m assuming you don’t mean you told her that I used to have a pet pony and a fish named Spike?”
“I thought your dog was Spike?”
“Spike died. You mean Muggles.”
“Ah!” Lucas snapped his fingers. “And yup, that’s it, that’s the confession, she knows things.” His nervous expression said a hell of a lot more, but I didn’t have time to question him about whatever the hell type of drug he was taking to force him to admit he told Avery I had pets when I was young.
If anything, all my past revealed to anyone was that I wasn’t a complete jackass, since I actually knew how to take care of animals when I was a small child; ergo, I was capable of taking care of actual human beings.
Not that I wanted to.
“I’m not completely comfortable with the way you just lowered your voice and then pointed at me like you were Harry Potter casting an unforgivable curse,” I mumbled to my shifty friend.
“I would never Harry Potter you,” he said in a calm voice. We both took Harry Potter very seriously.
“Thanks, man. Good talk.” I stood and yawned. I would do anything—illegal even—for more sleep, but lately, a certain woman haunted my dreams, and business had been good, not that I was complaining, but it was causing me to burn the candle at both ends. “God, why does every woman want implants that can cause severe back issues?”
“Are you seriously complaining about touching breasts all day?” Lucas gave me a completely shocked look, one that made me doubt my own sanity.
“Yeah.” I slapped my face with my free hand in order to wake myself up. “It’s boring as hell, I’d rather do a rhinoplasty.”
“A nose.” Lucas rolled his eyes. “You’d rather do a nose than breasts. Are you feeling okay?”