Bitter Exes
The Social Experiment 2
Addison Moore
Hollis Thatcher Press, LTD
Edited by Paige Maroney Smith
Cover Design: Gaffey Media
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Copyright © 2018 by Addison Moore
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This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to peoples either living or deceased is purely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are figments of the author’s imagination. The author holds all rights to this work. It is illegal to reproduce this novel without written expressed consent from the author herself.
All Rights Reserved.
This eBook is for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this eBook with another person, please purchase any additional copies for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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Copyright © 2018 by Addison Moore
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Contents
Books by Addison Moore
1. Divulging all the Data
Lane
2. Statistics Don’t Cry
Lane
3. Memories and Memorandums
Lane
4. Bedding Down to Brass Tacks
Lane
5. Detrimental Documentation
Lane
6. Celebratory Conclusions
Lane
Books by Addison Moore
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Books by Addison Moore
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Romance
3:AM Kisses (3:AM Kisses 1)
Winter Kisses (3:AM Kisses 2)
Sugar Kisses (3:AM Kisses 3)
Whiskey Kisses (3:AM Kisses 4)
Rock Candy Kisses (3:AM Kisses 5)
Velvet Kisses (3:AM Kisses 6)
Wild Kisses (3:AM Kisses 7)
Country Kisses (3:AM Kisses 8)
Forbidden Kisses (3:AM Kisses 9)
Dirty Kisses (3:AM Kisses 10)
Stolen Kisses (3:AM Kisses 11)
Lucky Kisses (3:AM Kisses 12)
Tender Kisses (3:AM Kisses 13)
Revenge Kisses (3:AM Kisses 14)
Red Hot Kisses (3:AM Kisses 15)
Reckless Kisses (3:AM Kisses 16)
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Value 3:AM Kisses Boxed Sets
3:AM Kisses Boxed Set 1-3
3:AM Kisses Boxed Set 4-6
3:AM Kisses Boxed Set 7-9
3:AM Kisses Boxed Set 10-12
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Low Down & Dirty (3:AM Kisses, Hollow Brook 1)
Dirty Disaster (3:AM Kisses, Hollow Brook 2)
Dirty Deeds (3:AM Kisses, Hollow Brook 3)
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Burning Through Gravity (Burning Through Gravity 1)
A Thousand Starry Nights (Burning Through Gravity 2)
Fire in an Amber Sky (Burning Through Gravity 3)
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Beautiful Oblivion (Beautiful Oblivion 1)
Beautiful Illusions (Beautiful Oblivion 2)
Beautiful Elixir (Beautiful Oblivion 3)
The Solitude of Passion
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Someone to Love (Someone to Love 1)
Someone Like You (Someone to Love 2)
Someone For Me (Someone to Love 3)
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Young Adult Romance
Melt With You (A Totally ’80s Romance 1)
Tainted Love (A Totally ’80s Romance 2)
Hold Me Now (A Totally ’80s Romance 3)
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Paranormal Romance
(Celestra Book World in Order)
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Ethereal (Celestra Series Book 1)
Tremble (Celestra Series Book 2)
Burn (Celestra Series Book 3)
Wicked (Celestra Series Book 4)
Vex (Celestra Series Book 5)
Expel (Celestra Series Book 6)
Toxic Part One (Celestra Series Book 7)
Toxic Part Two (Celestra Series Book 8)
Elysian (Celestra Series Book 9)
Perfect Love (A Celestra Novella)
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Ethereal Knights (Celestra Knights)
Season of the Witch (A Celestra Companion)
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Ephemeral (The Countenance Trilogy 1)
Evanescent (The Countenance Trilogy 2)
Entropy (The Countenance Trilogy 3)
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The Countenance Trilogy Books 1-3
Celestra Forever After (Celestra Forever After 1)
The Dragon and the Rose (Celestra Forever After 2)
The Serpentine Butterfly (Celestra Forever After 3)
Crown of Ashes (Celestra Forever After 4)
Throne of Fire (Celestra Forever After 5) Soon!
Divulging all the Data
Violet
An Irish wake. That’s exactly what my young life has devolved into.
“We’re here,” Sophie announces with just the right somber inflection as the three of us look up at Alpha Nu, our final destination after a multi-block pilgrimage in spiked stilettos, despite the snow piled against the sidewalks. Even though it hasn’t snowed in days, it’s still a frozen tundra out here—but a party is to be had and we’ll be damned if we were going to don our Sorels for this one. But my God, my frozen toes wish I had on my rattiest, comfiest pair. Moon Ridge, Colorado is known to be a frozen tundra from about Thanksgiving all the way to Easter. And seeing that we’re right at the top of January, we’ll be living in an icebox for a few good months still.
Ember clears her throat. “The first thing we need to do is get toasted.” She looks to me a moment, her caramel curls bouncing as she nods into this. “If you’re toasted, Vi, tomorrow won’t be nearly as bad.”
“How do you figure?” I look to Ember. September Sparks is a feisty, dirty blonde who happens to live at Canterbury Hall along with Sophie and me. Sophie and I are roommates, and since Em can’t stand the sight of hers—Taylor Greyson, who also happens to be the resident ho-bag of Leland University, we’ve adopted Ember as our own.
She blinks those impossibly cornflower blue eyes at me, rimmed with neon green. I’ve never seen eyes like Ember’s before. Lane blinks into my mind with those ghostly pale green eyes, and I quickly blink him right back out.
“That’s right”—she chirps with unmitigated glee like only Em can—“you’ll have a massive hangover, and the only thing you’ll be able to focus on is the knife-like pain jabbing into your skull. Trust me, head beats heart anytime.”
I wish I could correct her. Tell her that by no means am I nursing a broken heart, but I think at this point we would all know that’s a lie. I’m nursing a busted ego, too, but no one seems to care about that either. And in the mother of all ironies, I would seemingly be at the top of that not-caring list. It was me, after all, who made the inane decision to sign the three of us up for Dexter Houston’s foray into dating madness and soft porn. And, believe me, I’m not offended by the latter. In fact, you might say The Social Experiment had me at soft porn. I was looking to erase that broken heart I was gifted exactly one year ago and hoped to find true love at last. What a joke. And once I’m through with The Social Experiment, I’m going to be one, too.
The
Social Experiment and their ridiculous motto filter through my mind: Two people, six weeks. The odds are in their favor! It sounds like the beginning of some young adult dystopian novel if you ask me. Once it was announced that I would be a part of the second chance romance grouping—as in paired with my ex, I pretty much knew the odds were certainly not in my favor.
I link arms with Sophie and Em and gird myself for what I’m hoping will be a night to remember as we traipse into Alpha Nu like women on a sexual mission. It’s the first official party since winter break came crashing to an end, and judging by the mass of humanity in every nook and cranny that this house of depravity has to offer, I’d say all of Leland University showed up to celebrate. No sooner do we thread our way through the bustling foyer than the temperature spikes fifteen degrees and it feels more like a sauna than a frat house. The humidity coupled with the clashing scents of perfume and cologne, of beer, and the slight hint of weed in the air, has me feeling a slight buzz already. I’m pretty certain following Ember’s not-so sage advice will only magnify the shitstorm I’m about to walk into tomorrow night at exactly seven o’clock. It feels like a death sentence. A long arduous walk to the electric chair. And it will be Lane himself who will flip the switch.
A brunette with wild curls and a red Solo cup in each hand bops over, and just as I think she’s about to walk right through us, Sophie pegs her with a kiss on the cheek. Then it hits me. This is Mindy, Rowen Garret’s little sister. Rowen happens to be Sophie’s official plus one. Sophie and Rowen were in The Social Experiment’s group A last semester. Poor little Soph had to make out with a stranger in the dark—and who did the big bad stranger turn out to be? Rowen Garret, the god of the football field, her childhood crush whom she’s known for years. They pretty much hit it off right away, and now they’re dating and mating. I myself am in group B, which kicks off tomorrow night with a live session in Finley Hall, the school’s largest auditorium. Dexter assured me we’d need the largest space possible to allow the student body to witness my greatest fear, my greatest regret, and perhaps the thing I dread more than death itself—sitting next to my ex for an undisclosed amount of time. In fact, if the Grim Reaper had to select a body to snatch from tonight’s Solo soiree, I’d gladly volunteer for the effort.
Unlike Sophie, making out with the star quarterback who was generously gifted the nickname the Colossus by the female population—I’ll be seated next to my ex, Lane Cooper, dissecting what went wrong in our stormy one and a half year relationship. I will be the first to inform you I am getting fucked sideways in the deal, and as much as I protested, as soon as I heard Lane agreed to the mockery, it basically forced my hand to do the same. There is no way in hell I’m going to let him think I’m so fragile, so broken up over him—that I actually might still give a shit. Nope. I let the people at The Social Experiment, the TSE, know I’d be there with bells on—and perhaps a millstone tied around my neck so I can find the deepest lake afterwards and toss myself in it. I’d rather have thirty-two root canals in a row than walk on that stage tomorrow night, but I made my thorny bed and now I get to sleep in it—alone and with my newfound battery operated boyfriend Em gifted me for Christmas.
“What’s up, chica?” Mindy bumps her hip into Sophie’s and inevitably sloshes beer from her Solo to my pointy heels, forcing me to jump back a foot.
Sophie offers me a forlorn look that sums up my entire stay here at Leland thus far this year. I spent last year at Sugar Valley Community College, and no thanks to Lane and our epic breakup, I ended up screwing up my spring classes so bad I dropped them. Thankfully, I had already apped for Leland—ironically to be near the infamous ex in question, Lame—and thankfully, they had accepted me, so here I am, a freshman again. There was no way I was going to blow off an esteemed private university just because of some guy I dated. A sharp pain sears through me as I reference him that way. My God, if he makes me feel this way when I’m not even in the same room with him, how am I ever going to keep from having an aneurysm tomorrow night? Something tells me I should save the hard liquor for show time.
Sophie quickly rambles out my sticky dilemma to her old BFF, and I try not to listen too closely. It sounds like a country song gone awry. As much as I wish it didn’t, it actually did involve a dog and a truck. Holy hell, I’m a bad joke and a bad cliché. The irony never ends.
Ember grunts and shudders as she spots someone across the way. “I don’t mean to change the subject, but that right there in the bright yellow sweater? That’s my roommate, Taylor Greyson.”
The three of us turn to find the short strawberry blonde wearing her signature stilted eight-inch heels—swear to God, she must have them custom-made. Not even strippers bother to go that high. I’ve seen Taylor around the dorm a time or two, and I happen to know she has an affinity for tight sweaters and jeans, along with stealing everybody else’s boyfriend. She’s a notorious ho who neither understands nor abides by girl code. At the moment, Taylor is swaying heavily to the rhythm pumping aggressively from the speakers. And in the short span of time we’ve been observing her, she’s seamlessly grinded over some dude’s Levi’s. The crowd thickens between us, obstructing our view from the poor sap. But you can see his hands catching her by the thighs every few seconds. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if a hookup were in the making. Hey, maybe we should take bets? I’m pretty sure I can score some easy dollars off this bump and grind, and God knows a fist full of cold hard cash would have the power to pull me from my ex-based funk.
Sophie smirks. “Looks like we’re getting a live action shot, girls.”
“Watch and learn.” Em steals a Solo from Mindy and raises it in Taylor’s ho-bag honor.
For a moment, the mass of bodies part, Taylor sashays to her left just as the dude in question sways the opposite direction, and a breath hitches in my throat.
There he is, Lane Cooper, looking just as tall, dark, and heart-stopping as ever. My body spikes with heat, my stomach dives through the floor, and I can feel my hands clamming up as if it were our first date all over again. I had crushed hard on Lane Cooper from afar for quite some time before we ever went out.
His eyes hook to mine. Those too pale to be real lenses he sees the world through round out in what looks like horror as we hang onto one another’s gaze. We had grabbed ahold of an electrical current of our own making, and this frat house had suddenly morphed into a puddle of water.
“Vi.” Sophie gives a hard tug to my arm, breaking our gaze. A thicket of coeds closes the visual gap between Lane and me, and I can finally breathe again.
Mindy waves a hand in front of me. “What the hell just happened?”
Sophie grimaces my way. “That was the ex.”
“Well, slap me stupid.” Mindy lets out a whoop. “I’m sorry, girl, but Boomer and I are going to be in the audience tomorrow night. It’s all anyone’s talked about all through winter break. I don’t know how you’re going to do it, but just know I’m rooting for you. I’m on your side.” She lifts a cup my way before looking to Soph. “Tell Rowen that Boomer and I are sitting with you. Save us some seats!” She takes off in search of her hulk of a boyfriend no doubt. Boomer Alderson is Rowen’s roommate. It’s a wonder Rowen let that mass of muscles date his baby sister, but it finally happened and I’m happy for them. I’m happy for anyone that finds love and keeps it. I give a sorrowful glance in Lane’s direction. I once believed that would be us.
Ember spots a couple of friends and takes off while tossing her arms in the air to the music, and I make a face. I’d give anything to be that carefree tonight. Any night.
“Go ahead and find Rowen,” I say as I give Soph a nudge to the arm. “I’m nothing but a downer tonight. I’ll probably head back early.”
“No way. I’m not leaving you. I already explained the situation to Rowen, and he completely understands. You need a friend tonight, and there’s no way I’m letting you out of my sight.”
“Please.” I roll my eyes as a sea of sorority girls parts, and Rowen him
self walks down the center like an Adonis. He flashes that million-dollar smile at the two of us and half the room sighs. If you listen close enough, you can hear the sound of every ovary popping just this side of the Rocky Mountains.
Sophie doesn’t bother with hello. She simply wraps her arms around his neck and jumps up for a lingering kiss. It’s partially her way of pissing a circle around him in the event anyone in the room has forgotten their story, and I highly doubt they have. Half the country remembers their twisted tale. Heck, I binge-watched the whole thing in reruns right after Christmas myself. Rowen and Sophie have a love story for the ages. And that’s exactly why she shouldn’t have to babysit a sorry soul like me.
I disappear into the crowd undetected and migrate my way to the refreshment table laden with kegs and a Solo pyramid that’s been partially destroyed. A rap song is up next, and the volume increases to ear-bleeding levels. I can feel that thumping backbeat right down to the soles of my feet, and I’m pretty sure my future children tucked snug in my ovaries feel it as well.
I fight the swarm of coeds in hopes to fill a Solo with urine-colored beer only to bump into a hard body—decidedly male judging by the girth of his chest, along with the fact my free hand just swiped against his amazingly well-endowed crotch without meaning to. Dear God, I’m pretty sure I just landed us on third base.
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