Until Harry(60)

That was . . . nice of him.

“What’s your address and I’ll—”

“Just text your info to Lavender’s phone, and I’ll get it later.”

When I feel human again.

“Okay, babe,” Jensen chirped.

I cringed. “Okay, bye.”

“Bye.”

I hung up and handed Lavender back her phone. She was looking at everyone in the room, and then looked at me like she thought they would kill me, which made me laugh.

“You think this is funny?” Lochlan growled. “You were with a lad last night, drunk off your head, you don’t remember it and now you’re laughing?”

I closed my mouth and just shrugged because I didn’t know what else to do.

“Those are the actions of a dirty tramp,” he scowled. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Mate,” Kale glared. “Don’t fucking talk to her like that!”

I shared a surprised look with Lavender because Kale looked like he was ready to jump my brother for saying what he did to me, but my attention was forced away when Layton bellowed, “Lochlan!”

Lochlan looked at our brother. “You condone this shit?”

“No,” Layton growled, “but I’m not about to call her out in front of company. Don’t be an arsehole, and keep your comments to yourself. She isn’t a damn kid anymore.”

Regret washed over Lochlan’s features when Layton, as usual, got through to him. He was too stubborn to apologise to me, though, and while I appreciated my brother’s support, I was still humiliated. I excused myself from the table and hurried up to my room. I tried to close the door behind me, but Lavender was quick to follow and stopped me from doing so.

“I’m okay,” I whispered.

She didn’t say a word, only hugged me as my tears fell.

“He didn’t mean it,” she said, and squeezed me tightly. “That was just not something a brother would ever want to know. He was angry, that’s all.”

I nodded. I didn’t blame Lochlan for saying horrible things about me. I thought them about myself too.

“It’s not like he’s lying, though,” I murmured.

Lavender pulled back and scowled at me. “You aren’t dirty, and you aren’t a bloody tramp. Do you understand me?”

“But—”

“No ‘buts’,” she said, cutting me off, her tone harsh. “No one is perfect. You’ve made some mistakes, but that doesn’t make you a bad person.”

I swallowed. “Thanks, Lav.”

“I’m serious,” she pressed. “Hear me clearly.”

I sighed. “I do, but the mistakes you mentioned, I don’t want to make them anymore.”

“Then we’ll cut off the source to those mistakes,” she said with a firm nod.

I raised my brows. “And what is the source?”

“Alcohol,” she said.

I blinked. “Yeah, nothing good has ever come from me drinking.”

“You use it to drown your sorrows, but we’ll find a new way for you to do that.” Lavender kissed my cheek and gave me another hug. “We’ll figure this out together. I’m right here with you; I’ll help you up if you fall.”

“I love you, Lav,” I said, and held her tightly.

Lavender gave me a squeeze in return. “I love you too, even if you are a pain in my arse.”

I laughed, and just like that, she eased the tension out of the room. She was right: I’d eventually find a new way to deal with getting over Kale, and this time it wouldn’t be something to just help the pain for a few hours.



“Do you want me to come with you?” Lavender asked as she dropped me outside of the apartment complex that I vaguely remembered being in last night.

I shook my head. “I’m just getting my phone and then going home. I’m not sticking around to chat. I’m too hung over for speaking at any volume.”

Lavender snorted. “Okay, I’ll call you after I get off work.”

We both worked part-time at my nanny’s café to help us avoid dipping into our student loans until absolutely necessary. We already owed our lives to debt, and we didn’t need our casual spending to be a problem for us, so we got jobs to give us some extra cash.

“Love you,” she shouted.

I winced at the volume of her shout and mumbled, “I love you too.”

I closed the door to Lavender’s car and waved as she drove off. When she was out of sight, I turned to face the apartment complex, and without a second thought, I walked up the steps and searched the names next to the apartment numbers. When I spotted Jensen’s, I pressed the button next to his name. A few seconds passed before a tired voice spoke through the intercom.

“Hello?” the voice grumbled.

I cleared my throat. “Hi, it’s, uh, Lane Edwards. I’m here to pick up my phone from Jensen.”

“Yeah, I’m Jensen – come on up.” The voice had suddenly perked up. “I’m on the third floor in apartment three-zero-three.”

I had a bad feeling as soon as the door to the apartment building opened, but I shook it off and walked inside. I had to get my phone, and that meant I had to go inside to do that.