Page 29 of The Breakup Artists

Justin rubs the back of her hand with his thumb and pulls her closer. “You really think she’s going to check?”

“Um, have you met Amber?”

“So we’ll remake the bed,” he says and kisses her neck. “She’ll never know.”

“I don’t know,” Ella says, hesitant.

Justin stops kissing her and pulls back. “Why do I feel like I’m having to convince my girlfriend to hang out with me?”

“It’s not that.”

“It sounds exactly like that.”

“I want to hang out with you—”

“Just not alone,” he says, and his tone goes from seductive to frustrated. He lets go of her hands.

“Don’t be stupid. We hang out alone all the time,” Ella says, now fidgeting with her necklace.

“You mean when we’re in your parents’ house with their ‘bedroom door open’ policy?” he says backhandedly.

She touches his arm. “Justin, look—”

“Whatever. It’s fine,” he says dismissively like it’s not fine, and pulls back. He steps past her, leaving Ella looking deflated. But I don’t have time to analyze his grade-A dick behavior because if I don’t move, he’s going to catch me spying on them.

Running is out of the question. There’s no getting back up those stairs undetected. So I do the only thing I can, which is step through the door into the hallway, almost colliding with him.

Justin startles.

I yelp, putting my hand over my heart. “You scared the crap out of me.”

“Mia?” he says, confused.

“Sorry, I know we’re not supposed to be down here, but I was looking for a bathroom?” I say. “Someone bombed the one upstairs.”

Justin snorts. “Probably Derek. On purpose,” he says in his nice-guy voice that shows no sign of the cold shoulder he was just giving Ella.

Manipulative jerk.

“Ella will show you where it is,” he says, not bothering to look at her before he walks away.

I turn to Ella, whose face is crestfallen. “Everything okay?”

For a second, she doesn’t answer.

“Ella?”

“Huh?” she says. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

17

august

“Saw Justin in action, and wow,” Tiny says as she climbs into the passenger side of the Jeep, picking up the length of her dress and shutting the door with a thud. “Ella’s parents were right.”

I look at her expectantly as I start the engine and back out.

She kicks off her sandals, plunking her feet onto the dash. “Despite his charming public exterior, Justin’s a manipulative twat in private—classic controlling behavior. No wonder he got Ella to change around her life for him. He’s good. Like, really good.”