Page 133 of Wayward Souls


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“I love Zeke too you know,” I warn him. “I don’t know what they are exactly, but, it’s something.”

“I get it,” he nods. Except it doesn’t escape my notice that Riot stops talking to Travis for all of a few moments, to eye fuck him back.

Jesus fucking Christ.

“I’ll be right back,” I mutter.

Shaking my head, I walk away, ducking out from behind the bar and sauntering up to where Riot and Travis are having drinks and discussing business.

“Riot,” I snap, “quit eye fucking my brother. It might piss Zeke off if he finds out.”

“Maybe that’s the point sweetness.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Travis groans.

My thoughts exactly babe.

“Hey baby, I’m going to head to the back for a few minutes, I need to make a call.”

“Okay,” he grabs my hand and drags me between his thighs, pressing a quick kiss to my lips. “Hurry back.”

Smiling, I turn and head for the back room. Once I’m through the double doors, I head for the office, quickly closing the door behind me. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I swipe to my contacts. I’ve really been missing my best friend, my soul sister, and there’s so much she doesn’t know. So much I need to fill her in on.

Tapping her name, I dial out to her, holding my breath, hoping she won’t hate me.

“Aria!” she shouts.

“Hey babe,” I smile. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Same girl, same,” I can almost hear her grin from the other end of the phone. Sliding down to the floor, I let out a sigh.

“I uh, wow. I’ve got some shit to tell you and I didn’t want to do it on the phone honestly. I also really don’t want you to hate me. But, got some time?”

“For you? All the time in the world… Spencer.”

“Declan talked to Travis didn’t he?” I groan

“You know it babe,” she laughs.

I swear they say women gossip, but men are ten times worse.

“You’re not mad, are you? That’s a long time for me to be hiding shit.”

“Of course not. We all have our demons, girl. I lied too. I had secrets of my own.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

We sit in silence for a few minutes and it feels amazing. Like old times. It’s not awkward or weird, but there’s a question that’s gnawing at me, and I have to ask. I know the answer, but I need to hear her say it out loud, because we haven’t gotten to talk between her entire debacle and my own.

“Are you happy Ech?” I bite my lower lip.

“More than I ever thought possible. What about you, you happy?”

“The happiest.”

I find myself grinning from ear to ear, and my answer isn’t a lie. I’m not putting on a happy face while I drown inside. Not anymore. My heart is full and free.

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