My eyes widen. I would kill to see Shelby traumatized. “Any chance you have video footage?”
“Video footage? Of Grandma hanging onto half-naked men?” Shelby screams and covers her eyes with her hand. “I’m trying to erase the image from my memory, not put it into the cloud where I can always access it.”
“Okay, Nerd.” Frankie grabs Shelby’s hand and pulls it away from her face. “Calm down. There won’t be any strippers at your bachelorette party.”
“You’re darn tooting there will be,” Grandma Nancy shouts.
“Grandma,” Frankie growls. “It’s Shelby’s wedding. She gets to choose how she wants to celebrate it.”
“Personally, I like the stripper idea. After all, you won’t be seeing any other naked men for the rest of your entire life. Not once you sign your life away.” I add my two cents worth.
“Sign my life away? Dudette, Jackson is my life.” Her face takes on a dreamy look.
I stick my finger in my mouth and pretend to gag. Love is for suckers. Trust me. I have the scars to prove it.
“Luke sure did a number on you,” Grandma Nancy says before putting her arm around me and squeezing.
“I’m not talking about it, Nancy.”
She harrumphs before dropping her arm. “I don’t know why not. Talking things out helps, even Oprah agrees with me. And if Oprah says it, it must be true.”
“Can we talk about something else? Like this wedding, we’re supposedly here to plan.” They’ve got approximately five point two seconds to move on to another topic before I’m out of here. I am not talking about him.
“You need to talk about Luke.” Nancy is stubborn as a mule.
“Not happening.”
She keeps talking like I didn’t speak or something. “Otherwise, how are you two going to have some rumpy-pumpy.”
“Please, please, please. Can you not use words like rumpy-pumpy?” Frankie begs her grandma.
“Why not? It’s perfectly natural. Why just the other night your grandfather—”
“No!” Frankie screams and covers her ears. “I do not want to hear about your sex life.”
To be perfectly honest, neither do I, but I’ll do practically anything to move the topic off Mr. Betrayer. “What happened the other night, Nancy?”
“Nancy? Why do you continue to call me Nancy? Everyone calls me Grandma.”
“Um, okay.” I already have a grandmother but whatever.
“And, as your grandmother, you should follow my advice and talk to us about Luke. We’re your friends. We’ll understand.” They may understand. In fact, they’ll probably sympathize with me once they realize how defective I am. But I’m not telling them what happened. Not in this lifetime.
“I’m out of here.” I do an about-face and scurry my behind as quickly as I can.
“But there’s cake!” Shelby calls.
Cake and talking about my feelings or a clean break? Not a contest. Clean break is going to win every danged time. I am never, ever discussing what Luke did to me. I’ll be dead and buried before I reveal how he treated me like I was an annoying bug and stomped all over me. If I ever thought I was worthy of love, boy did he show me how wrong I was.
Chapter 4
Sometimes I forget what I’m angry about, so I get angry at the entire world. ~ Violet’s Secret Thoughts
I sigh when my doorbell rings. The only people who visit me are my girls Frankie, Shelby, and Bailey. Bailey I wouldn’t mind seeing. Ever since she started working with her dad, I hardly see her. It’s probably wrong to be jealous of a friend spending time with the father she never knew, but I’m allowed to feel what I feel. At least, that’s what my therapist told me.
With Bailey out of rotation, it must be Frankie and Shelby at the door. Yippie. I can’t wait for them to badger me some more. It’s so much fun. Sarcasm intended. But when I open the door, it’s not Frankie or Shelby. I only wish it were the troublesome twosome.
“Luke. What are you doing here?”
The man I loved more than life itself and with whom I thought would spend the rest of my life can’t even look me in the eyes. “Can I come in?”
I’m gob smacked. Honest to goodness gob smacked. The last time Luke talked to me he said, and I quote here, ‘I don’t want to share air with that bitch’. The bitch in question being me.
“Why?” What the hell is he doing here asking to come inside my place?
“I want to talk to you.” He certainly doesn’t look like he wants to talk. His fingers are tapping against his jeans, and he’s looking anywhere but at me. If you look ‘uncomfortable’ up in the dictionary, the entry will show a picture of Luke’s current expression.
Where else is Luke’s picture to be found in the dictionary? Under ‘hot’ no doubt. The man standing in front of me is the very definition of hot bad boy. His body is what wet dreams are made of. Big strong shoulders to carry your burdens. Chest with six-pack abs to run your hands over. Tight ass you can bounce a quarter off. Tattoos you want to trace with your tongue. But my absolute favorite thing about Luke is his eyes. They are a piercing green color. When he looks at me, I feel like everything in the world will be okay. Snort. How wrong can I be?
“Look.” I stand in front of the door and block his entry with my body. “If you’re here to tell me to stop hanging around with my friends, you can turn right back around and walk your tight ass away from here. I don’t take orders from you anymore.”
He rubs his hand across the short hairs on the top of his head. When we were together, he kept his auburn hair long. I used to love clutching it while he devoured my mouth. But now those gorgeous locks are gone in favor of a crew cut.
“Can you please let me in? I promise I won’t take up much of your time. Please.”
It’s the use of please twice that does me in. I’m a sucker for politeness. “Fine.” I open the door and motion him in.
I walk to the kitchen. I don’t want him in any of my living space. Getting over the man was nearly impossible. I’m scared to think what I’d do if my sofa cushions smelled like him. Something deeply embarrassing I’m sure.
“What do you want?” I cross my arms over my chest and lean against the counters as far away from him as possible. My body, freaking traitor that she is, wants me to get all up in Luke’s space. Good thing my body is not in charge here.
“Petal.”
“No.” I stop him right there. “You don’t get to call me Petal anymore.” Luke’s pet name for me back in the day was Petal. I used to love it. No lame dear or babe for us. No, he found a sweet endearment just for me. Silly me, I thought a unique endearment equaled love. What an idiot I was. But no more.
“Okay, I deserved that.”
He deserves much, much more. After it all fell apart, I let him walk away. I didn’t demand he listen to my side of things. I didn’t burn his things. I didn’t curse him, or stalk him, or any of the normal girlfriend scorned stuff. Nope. I let him walk away. But now? Now, I’m not feeling so generous.
“Get to the point.” The man may be sexy as all get out and my body may think jumping him is the best idea ever, but my mind is not down with the plan. I want him out of here. No, I need him out of here before my body stages a coup and I embarrass myself.