Broken Course (Wrecked and Ruined #3)(18)

"As soon as Slate finishes up at the gym. I’m going shopping for a little bit until he’s done."

"Take Johnson with you, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." She rolls her eyes but nods. "All right. I expect to meet this Sarah chick soon."

"Now look who’s rushing into something." I laugh and guide her out of the coffee shop.





"UM, WHAT do you mean he said he is going to kiss you in his bed tonight? That’s a little cocky, don’t you think?" my best friend, Casey, asks while flopping down on my bed, watching me apply my makeup in front of my full-length mirror.


"Nah. You’d have to meet him to really understand. It’s absolutely presumptuous, but when he says it, it’s not obnoxious."

"I’ll have to take your word for it, because he sounds like a douche."

"Stop!" I turn to face her. "Don’t say that. I kind of like him. He’s easy."

"Yeah, well. It sounds like he thinks you’re easy too," she laughs, but I give her an evil eye that makes her hush.

"Oh, shut up. I’m not kidding, Case. It’s odd how comfortable I feel around him." I turn back to the mirror to finish up with my mascara.

"You think it’s because he’s the first man you’ve allowed to get to know ‘new’ Sarah." She throws a pair of air quotes in my direction.

"I don’t know. Maybe." I let out a resigned sigh. I have no idea why Leo has me letting my guards down—I just know that it feels good. "He doesn’t know anything about my past, so it’s easy to pretend that I don’t have one when I’m with him. There’s no pressure. I can be whoever the hell I want instead of who he expects me to be." I catch her sad eyes through the mirror. "Don’t give me that look." When I spin around to face her, she immediately looks away.

"I wish you didn’t have to feel like that," she says apologetically.

I know where she’s headed with this, but it’s not a stroll down memory lane I want to take tonight.

"So, is there something wrong with the way I am now?" I ask with a teasing smile.

"No!" She jumps up defensively. She knows this is a trigger for me, but tonight, I’m using it to my advantage just to mess with her. However, I’m apparently transparent because she calls my bluff. "It’s just that you don’t drink wine or read dirty books anymore. That was, after all, the foundation of our relationship." She grins.

"Yeah, but now, we eat massive chocolaty desserts and watch trashy TV. I think that might trump wine night." I stand up to grab my perfume off the dresser.

"You’re right. This arrangement might be better, although my jeans probably disagree."

We both burst out laughing, only to sober when I see the clock.

"Shit! He should be here soon," I announce, nervously smoothing down the long black-and-white maxi dress I picked for tonight. It has spaghetti straps and shows off a fair amount of cleavage. Emma would be proud. I’m not sure where we are going, but I know I want to look presentable…at least on the outside.

"What are you going to do about Mr. Cocky tonight? You getting in his bed?" She perks a questioning eyebrow.

"I have no idea," I sigh.

"It’s been a while since you were with someone, huh?" she asks jokingly, but for a split second, a flashback hits me so hard that it steals not only my breath, but also my every thought.

Seven Years Earlier…

"GET OUT!" I scream.

"Jesus, calm down!" Brett pleads, dodging the plate I just hurled across the room.

"Why the f*ck would you do this?" I yell. The pain in my chest amplifies the anger in my tone.

"Because it’s our anniversary. Because I love you. Because I f*cking miss you. Take your pick." He swings his arms out to his sides in frustration.

"So, what now? What are you hoping to accomplish with this?" I wave my hand over the beautifully decorated table.

Everything, from the china to the prime rib, is the exact replica of our table the night we got married. He even had a small cake decorated to match the top tier of our wedding cake. I should be laughing and crying at the sentimental gesture. But as I stare at it now, the emptiness I feel in the memory enrages me. I remember picking out the original cake like it was yesterday.

Brett loved peanut butter cake more than anything else, but the brown icing was ugly as all hell. So I had the bakery make a special peanut butter cake just for him but cover it in white icing so it would match my vision for the day. You should have seen my mother’s disgust when I told her the flavors I chose. However, that cake was us. I was always the free spirit, while Brett was focused and career-driven. Yet, just like that cake, we fit together despite everyone else’s expectations. It just worked.

"I was hoping it would remind you of happier times," he bites out when his overflowing emotions flip to anger from my rejection.

"Jesus Christ, I remember. I just don’t care!" I say the words honestly, but I didn’t mean for them to be the verbal knife that twists in his gut.

He swallows hard, and it’s more than I can take to witness his reaction. He will never understand how much I want to be the person he remembers—the person I remember. Instead, I feel so distant and removed. I’m completely alone, even though there is a beautiful man standing in front of me, begging me to love him.