Page 108 of Ballrooms & Blackmail

It’s a good one.

Probably my favorite to date.

And I’m not enjoying a second of it.

She snorts. “You’re so full of shit.”

I shrug. “Yeah, well, I’m living in fantasyland where everything’s fine so…”

Silence. Then, “Do you want to talk about it?”

I make a sound that hopefully translates to absolutely not.

Briar ignores it. “Okay, I’ll rephrase. Tell me about it.”

Sighing, I start to shake my head. “What’s there to say? He told me about his past and it’s as horrible as I expected and…”

“And what?”

My throat tightens.

Because I don’t know how to explain this.

How do I explain that every horrible thing Thorn confessed somehow broke my heart for him?

And made me understand him better in the worst possible way?

And that I spent half the conversation wanting to cry and the other half wanting to throttle him?

So much blame. So much pain.

So much trust.

And—

“He thought I was afraid of him.”

Briar’s eyes go wide. “Oh no.”

“Yeah,” I say. “He surprised me and reached out to fix my hair and I freaking flinched. I didn’t mean to. I was just…”

I was shocked and overwhelmed. Heartbroken and devastated and aching for him. And I was feeling all of that and more, so much more—a hundred freaking emotions all at once.

“Then, before I could explain what was going through my head, he just took off. And now he won’t return my—or anyone’s—calls, and I only know he’s okay because Pascal is Pascal and—” I sigh and lean back against the counter. “It’s a mess.”

“He left?”

“Yup.”

“He told you all of his deepest darkest secrets, and he just left?”

I nod.

She falls silent for several long moments. “Oh, my God. He’s an idiot.” Briar rubs both of her hands over her face and groans. “I mean, of course he’s not an idiot. He’s scared and hurt and has been through hell like the rest of us?—”

“Worse,” I correct.

Her brows fly up. “Worse?”