Page 18 of Coastal Runaway

I shrugged, acting as if it didn’t hurt anymore, “I was just a conquest after years of being something he couldn’t have. He knew I had a crush on him and used it to his advantage for sex. He was the person I was closest to, and he used me like I meant nothing.”

“You know? Men are infuriating. Like I swear Nolan can flash a smile and every girl in the vicinity’s brain turns to dust. I’ve literally heard girls rave about the way the sun brings out the caramel highlights in his ashy brown hair like that’s impressive.” She threw her hands in the air and stood, pacing.

I must have looked as anxious as I felt because she sat down next to me on the couch and touched my knee, “why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“It wasn’t worth telling. I made a mistake, and I never looked back. I wanted to come here and be someone else. So I did.”

“Well I’m proud of you,” she stood and raised her drink, “to badass women who don’t let small men walk all over them!” She yelled.

I raised my glass in solidarity and chugged the entire thing.

A few hours— and several drinks— later I stood, swaying on my feet so bad that I fell back onto the couch.

Why was the room spinning?

A knock sounded at the door and a few seconds later Nolan and Luke strode into the room.

I groaned, “You called the wardens?!”

She gave me an empathetic look, “I only called Nolan,” She shot daggers at Luke, “he brought the other one on his own.”

“I’ll grab the little one, you haul Keegan off the couch.” Nolan seemed unaffected by Maggie’s comment and gestured towards Maeve who was fast asleep in a ball on the recliner in the corner of the room.

Maggie placed her hand on Luke's chest and whispered, “Good luck.” She patted twice and walked into her bedroom.

Luke walked over to me slowly and reached his hand out. He’s so pretty, I thought as I shamelessly checked out his body. He had on a pair of jeans that fit his thighs perfectly, and a white t-shirt that was slightly too tight around his biceps. I thought I might be drooling.

Was I drooling?

I touched my lips with my finger.

No drool. Sweet.

Sober me might have hated him, but drunk me? That bitch wanted to climb him like a tree. Against my better judgment, I took his extended hand and he hauled me up and over his shoulder.

“Is this really necessary?” I asked, punching my fists into his back.

“Yup, I can’t have you throwing up on my face.” He patted my ass with a laugh.

“Ugh, I hate you!”

“Yeah, I know.”

I didn’t remember much after that. All I knew is that I woke up the next day in fresh pajamas with a glass of water and two pain relievers sitting on my nightstand. I took them and then laid back in bed with my blanket over my head, willing myself to die of embarrassment.

Fuck, my head hurt.

This was why I never let Maggie control my drinks; I always ended up incapacitated the next day. But, last night she was so convincing, and I needed to be distracted.

Luke showing up here really threw a wrench into my plans to have the perfect senior year before graduating and… well I wasn't really sure what came next. I was getting my degree and I assumed dad would want to take me on as an entry-level social media coordinator at KavTech.

However, lately I thought about how often I relied on my last name for most things. I wanted to forge my own path, build my own empire. I knew deep down that my dad wouldn’t be too upset if I didn’t work for the company. I was grateful that I never felt pressure from him to carry on his legacy.

I heard my phone vibrating somewhere in my bed and felt around in the blankets until I found it. My jaw dropped at the number of notifications filling my Home Screen… When did I post last night?

Hesitantly, I opened the Instagram notifications only for my stomach to sink at a story poll that I posted asking my viewers if Luke was a rain cloud emoji or a fire emoji. The picture was of Luke standing in Maggie’s living room, with his arms crossed, scowling. To no ones surprise, the general consensus was ‘fire.’

People loved a brooding anti-hero.