“What time is it?” I ask sleepily.
She glances over at me and chuckles. “Almost noon. You were sleeping like the fucking dead.”
Noon? “Ugh, I have to pack today. Why'd you let me sleep this late?”
“I tried to wake you. You wouldn't budge.”
“Fuck my life.”
As I go to stand up, the sore feeling left from last night causes me to stumble and memories flow through my mind. The way he touched me on the lounge chair. The feeling of his lips on mine. How we couldn't get enough of each other in the pool.
I have to see him.
“I'm going to get a drink,” I tell my best friend. “Do you want something?”
She shakes her head and holds up her Starbucks latte. “Your iced coffee is in the fridge.”
The corners of my mouth raise. “You're a goddess.”
“I know.”
I go to the bathroom first, just to make sure I don't look like a total train wreck. The last thing I want to do is scare him away the second I finally have him. I run a brush through my hair and resist the urge to put a little makeup on then deem myself acceptable.
My feet pad down the stairs in search of my coffee, and hopefully Harland in the process, when the sight in front of me stops me in my tracks. Harland is sitting on the couch with a total blonde bombshell.
Lindsey.
I'm frozen in place as I watch this nightmare unfold. It looks like they're talking about something, but I'm too far away to hear what. I inch closer, unable to stop myself. It isn't until she sighs and pulls him in for a kiss that everything inside me shatters.
“I love you,” she tells him.
As he wraps his arms around her and holds her close, his eyes meet mine. I can’t stop the tears from falling, but I bat them away as soon as they hit my cheek, furious to show him this weakness.
I'm sorry, he mouths at me, and then his eyes focus on Lindsey’s face as he responds.
“I love you, too.”
Three Weeks Later
I walk into our dorm room and collapse onto my bed. The last few weeks have been exhausting, and my classes haven't made it any better. It's as if I can't seem to find the energy to stay awake, and no matter what I do, I can't focus.
“You look like shit,” Ash tells me. “But still a little better than before.”
After finding Harland with Lindsey and witnessing their reunion firsthand just hours after he took my virginity, I was a wreck. I managed to hide it from Ashlyn, telling her that I had some sort of stomach bug, but it sucked. I hid from the world as I let my tears soak the pillow, thankful that we were in our dorm instead of back in our hometown where I could do something I'd probably regret.
Suddenly, the urge to vomit rips through my stomach and sends me rushing to the garbage can. The contents of my lunch spew from my mouth as my best friend comes over to hold my hair back.
“Jesus, Em,” she says, rubbing my back. “If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were pregnant.”
Her words send a chill right through me, and I instantly heave into the can again, but this time for entirely different reasons.
Oh, fuck.
Chapter Two
Harland
Nearly five years later
Picking up more of my clothes, I shove them into the bag with a little more force than necessary. This is fucking bullshit. All of it.
I look around the tour bus I've spent the last few years in and admire the awards that line the walls. Platinum records. VMAs. Grammys. The thought that all of that could be done now pisses me off beyond belief.
The sound of Vance and Rhys laughing echoes through the bus as they climb on board, but the second they see me, their smiles drop off their faces.
“Packing?” Vance asks.
I nod and throw another thing into my bag. “It's fucking stupid.”
Rhys snorts. “You don't need to tell us. We know.”
Sitting down on the bunk, I run my hands over my face and groan. “I'm sorry, guys. I feel like I ruined everything.”
Rhys goes to say something, but Vance throws a hand over his mouth. “It's not your fault, dude. So, you got engaged to a psycho. We all make mistakes.”
“Psycho is an understatement,” I tell him as I'm pulled back into the memory of what happened.
There's nothing better than the buzz that runs through me as we get done with a show. The screaming fans all shouting our songs back at us…It's unlike anything I've ever felt in my life.
The guys all head back to the bus, but I'm going to the hotel. Lindsey has been traveling with us and really doesn't like staying on the tour bus. She says it's too stuffy and crowded. I don't really understand it, but whatever makes her happy. I know she's been doing a lot with planning our wedding, and still managing to follow me around the world. The least I can do is give my girl what she wants.
I step into the elevator and wait for it to make its way up to the penthouse suite. All I want to do is drink a beer and climb into bed, but as I walk through the door, something feels off. There's a jacket thrown across the couch that I don't recognize, and a pair of shoes by the door that aren't the right size.
You've got to be fucking kidding me.
It doesn't take long for my mind to figure out what's going on. Hell, I've suspected it for a while, but I always told myself she would never. She's not that cruel. Stupid me for thinking better of her time and time again.
The second I open the bedroom door, I see exactly what I've been denying. Lindsey is on top of some guy, riding his dick while her tits bounce. Fucking bitch.
I throw the door open further with a force that threatens to break it. The sound of it slamming against the wall pulls both of their attention toward me. Lindsey's eyes widen, but the guy who I recognize from a band we beat out this year at the VMAs just smirks.
“Harland,” my fiancée pleads.
I put a hand up to stop her and focus on him. “Get the fuck out before I throw your ass off the goddamn balcony.”
He doesn't need to be told twice as he jumps off the bed and scurries out of the room. Once I hear the door shut, I turn all my attention to Lindsey.
“We're done,” I tell her. “The wedding is off. You can keep the ring, but I want you gone by morning.”
She shakes her head as tears rush down her face. “No, baby. No. Don't do this.”
I scoff and roll my eyes before making my way toward the exit, but she's hot on my heels.
“It didn't mean anything. I was just jealous of all the girls who throw themselves at you,” she tries. “I thought you didn't want me anymore.”
Bullshit. It's all fucking bullshit, and I have no interest in hearing it.
I continue my way toward the exit when she screams my name, and a slap echoes through the room. I stop in my tracks, thinking maybe she hit me, but no part of me feels anything. I turn around with brows furrowed and stare at her. She looks at me with a manic gleam in her eyes as she raises her hand again and punches herself straight across the face.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
She smirks, blood pooling at the corner of her mouth by her own doing. “You don't get to leave me.”