“I made the choice.” I swallow. “Lawrence didn’t make me take the fall for him. I made that choice myself, so don’t blame him.”
“I am absolutely not blaming him for your actions. I’m just . . . ” She sighs heavily. “I wish you’d told me.”
“You were so hell-bent on the lawyer and the car that I just didn’t even think it would make a difference. I mean, I wasn’t even sure you’d believe me.” I bite my lip hard to keep from crying. It doesn’t work.
“I always, always believe you, Jo.” Mom reaches over and puts her hand over mine. “You are my priority. Not some quarterback or whoever else comes along. You’re my daughter. I will always believe you.”
“Thanks.” I swallow, using my free hand to wipe my tears. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“I’m glad you did now.”
“I don’t want you to do anything. To Lawrence, I mean. I just want to put this behind me once and for all.”
“I don’t agree with that, but I respect it. As far as I’m concerned, it’s behind us.” She squeezes my hand. “Now we need to solve the car situation.”
She winks as she lets go of my hand. We spend the rest of the day talking about funny stories she has of students who have come to see her and later, share a bottle of wine with Dad and Misty. It’s the happiest I’ve felt in a while.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Jo
“This is all you’re taking?” Misty nudges the duffel bag on the floor of my teenage room with the tip of her designer sneaker.
“We’re only going to be there until Sunday.” I frown. “Why? What did you pack?”
“Clothes. More clothes than you.” She looks at my bag again, then at me. “Did you pack going-out clothes?”
“Going-out clothes?” I laugh. “For Asheville? Have you been there? Where would we go? A dive bar? A brewery? I have jeans and sneakers or jeans and sandals. Trust me, I’m good.”
“Maybe I overpacked.” She purses her lips.
“I’d bet money you did.”
“I’m surprised you’re going.”
“I’m surprised you’re going.” I raise an eyebrow.
“I wasn’t going to, but then I found out you were going and I didn’t want to leave you alone over there with those wolves.” She scowls. “Is he going?”
“Is he going?” I ask at the same time. “Which he are you talking about?”
“Jagger.”
“Oh.” I shrug, feigning nonchalance, though it’s almost not a feign. I’ve rehearsed what it’ll be like to see him again and I think I’m good. “I don’t know. Is Mitch going?”
“Nope. I have it on good authority that he got snowed in and had to stay back in New York.” She winks.
“Who’d you hear that from?”
“I sent him a text and asked.” She shrugs a shoulder.
“Oh, you’re texting now?”
“Not texting, per se. We have texted though.” She pauses, glancing away briefly. “And we followed each other on social again.”
“Wow.” My brows shoot up. “I still haven’t re-installed any of those apps. I deleted them in case I felt tempted to look at what Lawrence is doing.”
“Do you care what he posts?”
“Not anymore.” I shake my head. I don’t, but Jagger? My stomach hurts just thinking about seeing him. I don’t know how I’m going to survive this weekend.
“Jagger hasn’t posted in a while,” my sister says softly.
“He also hasn’t texted.” I look up at her, hating the burning feeling in my eyes. “I mean, I haven’t been home in a week and he hasn’t even called to check in on me. As a friend, you know?”
“He’s a dick.”
“He is a dick.”
“Girls, let’s go,” Dad calls out from somewhere in the house, and I hop out of bed, grab my duffel, and rush behind Misty.
The last time one of us made Dad wait, he made sure we heard about it for months. I am not going to be responsible for that again. I’m trotting down the stairs, trying to go as fast as I can, when I hear his laughter. His laughter. I stumble on the last step, my duffel caught between me and the large wooden post. Misty shoots me a what the heck is happening? look and I shoot it right back.
“Girls, put your things in the van. Let’s go.”
“What van?” I frown. “We don’t have a van.”
“I rented one.” He shoots me a quick stop wasting time look before walking back outside.
Misty and I walk outside slowly, shocked, and see a big black van parked there. Not a regular van. No. This looks like one of those party buses you rent for a graduation or a bachelorette party.
“Does this van come with a stripper pole?” I ask, forgetting we have company, and quite frankly, past the point of caring.
Maverick laughs loudly. Jagger does not laugh. I’m not even sure if he’s smiling because I refuse to look in that direction. I walk forward, let my father take my bag, then Misty’s ridiculous suitcase, and walk inside the van and straight to the back. If I’m going to share a space with Jagger, it’s not going to be a close encounter. Misty follows, plopping down in the row in front of me.
“Are we expecting fifteen more, Dad?” she shouts.
“Settle down, girls. This was all they had.”
“We could have driven in separate cars,” I say, looking down at the ground as Maverick and Jagger climb into the ridiculous vehicle. One of them shuts the door to the back and Mom shuts the door to the front and claps.
“We’re off,” she announces proudly. “This will be fun.”
“Yeah, a ball.” I kick off from the floor when Dad starts driving and lie down across the four seats I have to myself. “It’s like going to Disney without the excitement.”
“Stop talking, Josephine, or I’ll drop you off wherever it is you’re living right now,” Dad warns.
I roll my eyes. “I’d gladly stay there.”
“Gladly shut up please.”
I shut my eyes and stop talking. After a while, I pull out my phone and open my Kindle app. I haven’t read a book in a while and this seems like the perfect time to catch up on my favorite historical romance series. Misty is taking a nap in the row in front of me and I don’t think either of us anticipate stopping at all for a three-hour car ride. I mean, we’ve gone down to Orlando and only stopped once, I can’t imagine he’s thinking of stopping for this. Despite my nerves and hearing Jagger’s voice ring out while he’s talking to his brother and my parents, I’m able to get lost in my book. That’s huge considering that his voice is cutting and his laughter? God, his laughter is making me feel like I’m drowning. But it’s fine. I’m fine. If I survived Lawrence, I can survive Jagger.
I must have fallen asleep at some point because when the van stops moving, I notice and finally open my eyes. I swallow, sitting up and fixing my hair, which I straightened this morning, so it’s parted down the center and pin straight up to my elbows.
“Are we there already?” I ask.
“No. We stopped at Cracker Barrel.”
I rub my eyes and groan. “Why?”
“I love Cracker Barrel. Come on, girls,” Dad says.
And dammit, I should have totally predicted this. My dad always stops for this damn chain. Between this, Bojangles, and Waffle House it’s a wrap. Forget the fact that normally he’s on a restrictive low carb, high fat, organic as heck diet. I groan again as I get up and stretch my arms over my head and sideways. Unfortunately, for a second I forget who else is sharing this vehicle with me, and when Jagger stands up and glances in my direction, our eyes meet. My heart kicks into gear, thumping at my neck, my ears. He keeps staring and I swear I see anger in his eyes. Anger. It’s enough to make me want to scream at him, punch him in the gut. I do neither of those things. Instead, I swallow and force myself to look away. It’s not that he’s not worth my pain. It’s not that he’s not worth my rage. It’s that I can’t have this conversation right now, not in front of my freaking parents, wh
o don’t have a clue what’s going on. All of us walk out of the van and over to the restaurant, where we’re told to wait fifteen minutes. I start walking around in the little store. I love a good store. Soon, Misty joins me, and then my mom, who already has an apron and cast iron pan in her hands. We’re called to our table and I realize that Jagger makes it a point to let me pick a seat before choosing one on the opposite end of the table. He’s avoiding me. He’s angry at me? My blood simmers. That’s rich. If this is how this weekend is going to go, so be it.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Jo
“I am so happy you’re here!” Mildred says loudly, her smile wide as she stretches her arms open to hug my mom.
Mildred and Roberto Cruz are the quintessential sports power couple. Mildred was a track runner in the Dominican Republic, who won a medal in the Olympics. Roberto was a baseball player who was discovered by the Braves when he was just fourteen years old. I don’t know their entire story on how they immigrated here, but I’ve heard enough immigrant stories to know it couldn’t have been easy, even with a major league team facilitating it. Leaving family behind and moving to a foreign country could never be easy. My family has been here since my grandparents moved to Raleigh and both of my parents were born here, so I can’t relate to what the Cruzes have been through. Not that they’re crying about it. Roberto is a hall of famer who signed multimillion-dollar contracts with sponsors and Mildred hung up her cleats early on to become a journalist and is now the founder and CEO of a magazine that rivals the best of them. When I asked her why she decided to go that route she said her goal was to put more marginalized people on magazine covers. It’s not just a sports magazine, but a lifestyle brand that she’s built from it. It’s safe to say that they’re living the American dream. Mildred, who has her hair up in a sleek high ponytail, walks over to Misty first, hugging her tightly and smiling wide, and then me, doing the same.
She has long arms like her sons’, which is why it’s no surprise that they’re all so tall, with one parent who’s well over six feet and another who’s right on the cusp of it. Mildred could have been a model, with her height, thin frame, olive complexion, and bright green eyes. She small talks with us outside before welcoming us inside her home, which is stunning. I’d been there when I was young, but that was before they remodeled the place. Now it looks very much like a modern-day farmhouse, sleek yet classic, with neutral tones and open spaces. What makes it stunning, though, is the view. The back of the house overlooks the mountains, and the entire thing is made of glass, so it’s all you see. I stand there for a long moment, admiring the beauty, until Jagger and Maverick’s deep chuckles pull me out of my reverie. When I turn around, I see them both hugging their mom and letting her kiss their cheeks. I might hate Jagger, but I feel my lips tug into a small smile at the sight. Most guys our age are quick to dismiss affection from their parents. Not these guys though. I’d forgotten what a tightly knit family they are until now. Always together, never arguing in front of people, never going against what their mother tells them. I sit with that for a moment. Me, who completely goes against everything her parents say because I always think my ideas are better.
“Welcome, familia,” Roberto boasts as he walks in the door with some grocery bags in his hands. “I tried to go get some wine before your arrival, but you beat me back here.”
“I was desperate to escape Cary,” Dad says, smiling as he greets his friend with a quick hug and pat on the shoulder.
“Why don’t I show you to your room?” Mildred asks Misty and me. “That way you can make yourselves at home.”
I pick up my bag and my sister rolls her suitcase as we follow Mildred and my mother, who are walking ahead of us, talking about the décor.
“Rosa tells me you’re studying journalism.” Mildred looks over her shoulder at Misty. “You know I’m going to want you working for the magazine.”
“I would absolutely love to,” Misty says, smiling. “New York is always calling my name.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“That makes one of us,” Mom says. “I’ve been enjoying having her back home, even if she did refuse to come back to the house and was dead set on having her own apartment.”
“I go home every weekend,” Misty says.
“At least one of you does.” Mom shoots me a look, then smiles. “Though I’m hoping Jo will join us for dinner on Sundays from now on.”
“I will. As soon as I get my car working.” I let out a laugh.
“I spoke to your father about that. I think you’ll find that you’ll have a working car again soon.” Mom winks. Misty reaches for my hand and squeezes, letting out a little excited squeal. I laugh.
“Here we are.” Mildred steps inside a bedroom that has the same view as the living room, enormous windows that showcase the mountains. There are two queen-size beds with white comforters and a large television on the opposite wall. It looks like a spa. It even smells like a spa.
“Wow.” I step inside and go to the glass door that leads to a balcony.
“The balcony wraps around the house,” Mildred says. “The boys’ room is next door, but I already told them to be on their best behavior. No walking around naked or half naked, as they like to do.”
I’m glad I’m facing forward because I feel a blush come over me as I think about Jagger walking around half naked in the house we share. The house no one knows we share. The house we may no longer be sharing soon enough if we keep this up.
“I know you girls like to explore, so if you want to go shopping or whatever, there’s a car at your disposal,” Mildred says. “The keys are hanging by the garage door.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“You’re too kind, Milly,” Misty adds.
“Nonsense. You’re family.” Mildred waves us off. “Come, Rosa. Let me show you to your room.”
They shut the door behind them when they leave and Misty and I sit in our respective beds. We always choose sides—her bed is always the one closest to the bathroom, so mine is naturally the one closer to the window.
“It’s really beautiful here.” I smile as I look out there again.
“It really is.” She sighs, plopping back onto the bed. “So comfortable too.”
I pick up the control beside me on the nightstand and examine it. I click a button and the window turns dark. I click the other one and it goes back to normal. Cool.
“Are you going to talk to Jagger?” Misty turns onto her side.
“Nope.”
“That’s fair.” Misty nods. “I mean, it’ll be difficult to avoid him this weekend, but I respect that decision. He’s still a dick.”
“He is.” I shut my eyes and face down on the bed.
I’ve been trying so hard not to replay that video in my head—that girl straddling and making out with him, and according to my sister, disappearing upstairs with him. Every time I think about it, it feels like another punch in the gut. He was so quick to judge Lawrence for his infidelity, so quick to tell me all about it and warn me against him, and yet, this is what he does once he earns my trust? No, we weren’t together the way Lawrence and I were, but still. It’s still messed up. It still makes me sad and mad and like I want to punch something, preferably his gorgeous face. But I won’t.
I won’t.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Jagger
My brother hasn’t stopped talking about a brewery he wants to visit, so finally, after dinner, I get ready and take him up on the offer. Anything is better than sitting around this house with Jo so close yet so far. Not that I want anything to do with her. My head and heart are at odds with this though. Or maybe it’s my dick and my head. I’m not quite sure. All I know is that when she walked out of her room wearing those tight jeans and that black bodysuit that dips so low that’s just begging for me to reach out and lower it even more, to let her perky breasts loose and suck her pretty nipples into my mouth, I knew I had to bolt out of there. It’s bad enough she went back to that di
ckhead Lawrence. I definitely don’t need the reminder. I haven’t even been home in a week because I knew seeing her would bring out something in me that I wasn’t quite ready to expose. It would be ugly. I thought having the week away from her meant that when I saw her again I’d have control of myself, but I was wrong, because the moment I saw her at her parents’ house I wanted to grab her by the neck and fuck her. I’m sick. I must be sick.
“You’re not going to invite Misty and Jo?” Mom asks in the kitchen, when we’re out of earshot from everyone.
“Nope. Boys’ night.” I grab one of the crackers she’s serving on a charcuterie board and shove it into my mouth.
“Make it a girls’ and boys’ night.” She slaps my hand when I go for another cracker.
“I don’t want to.”
“Why not?” She stops messing with the cheeses and looks at me. “You need to learn to be a good host. You can’t just disappear into the night.” She stops talking when Misty walks into the kitchen. She’s wearing a short flowy dress with a flower print on it and sandals. “You look nice,” Mom says.
“Thanks.” Misty smiles wide. “We’re going out.”
“Oh.” Mom raises an eyebrow, then looks at me quickly. “Jagger and Maverick are planning to go out as well. Maybe you can all go together.”
“Hm.” Misty sets her lips flat, looking over at me and there’s no mistaking the anger in her eyes. It takes me aback, because what the fuck? Her sister is the one who screwed me over, not the other way around. “I think we’ll have to pass. You guys have fun though.”
“You too,” I say, then scowl when Jo walks into the kitchen, those jeans too tight, that bodysuit too provocative. “What are you so dressed up for?”
“You call this dressed up?” Jo shoots me a look. “Misty’s wearing an actual dress.”
“You’re both dressed up,” I say.
“You both look great,” Mom says, winking. She shoots me a what is wrong with you? look before picking up the tray and walking out of the kitchen.
The Heartbreaker Page 17
