Page 4 of Code Violation

Vesper’s eyes flick to her bedroom door when Drew’s voice grows louder. She’s probably on the phone with her boyfriend and my teammate, Will Jones. He’s likely wondering where I am after I bailed on a lift to the arena.

I’m here, trying not to spill my guts on how fucking gone I am for Vesper Stone.

“I don’t want to lose you from my life.”

Vesper peers up at me, a myriad of emotions flowing through her. “Then turn around and go and leave this conversation exactly where it belongs—in the past.”

1

. . .

Vesper

Early October

Iam done.

So done.

Imagine the most final ending to something you have witnessed and then double it.

Because I am finished with Kane Giles and, fuck me, does it feel good.

So good, in fact, that I could almost forgive myself for entertaining his sorry ass for as long as I did. Back and forth I went for almost a year following our official split as, time and again, I believed his bullshit lies, telling me he’d changed and that he couldn’t move on from me, no matter how hard he tried.

The incessant phone calls were allegedly a “testament” to his love for me.

Each time he lost his temper and yelled was because our relationship was fueled with passion and he was scared of losing me.

Our relationship was full of toxicity, and I was an idiot to believe that a man like Kane could ever be humble enough to change his ways.

Two years of my life were wasted while we were together, and another eleven months were spent lying to my friends that we were through, just so I could avoid the truth they already knew.

Kane Giles is a deadbeat boyfriend and a piece-of-shit person, and last night marked the final time I will sleep with that guy again.

Because I. Am. Done.

“I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that the glass can’t get any drier.” With a sassy grin on her lips, my best friend’s eyes drop to the towel and glass in my hands. “Although it might disintegrate altogether if you keep rubbing at it like that.” Drew raises a finger in thought as she sits at the bar. “On second thought, keep rubbing at it. Perhaps a genie will materialize and grant you three wishes.”

I scoff and set the glass on the shelf behind me. I freaking love working at Riley’s Bar. Quite honestly, it’s been my only constant this past year. A safe haven, where I can socialize with customers and do what I love—mix wild new cocktails.

“Seriously though”—Drew sets her elbows on the bar, chin resting in one palm—“if you could have three wishes, what would you choose?”

I toss the towel down on the bar top. “Aren’t you supposed to keep your wishes a secret? Otherwise, they won’t come true.”

Drew waves a hand at me, the massive rock her new fiancé, Will Jones, gave her sparkling beneath the lighting. Like many of the good people in my life, I met Drew in this bar, and our friendship has never looked back. I wouldn’t be where I am today—or have a decent roof over my head—if it wasn’t for this girl right here. To see her so happy makes my heart sing.

“Ugh, let’s ignore that part and skip to the good stuff.” She wiggles her eyebrows, and I blow out a laugh, drumming my fingernails on the dark wooden bar.

“First, I’d ask for a week’s vacation on a deserted island every year. Obviously, I would want supplies to be covered, but the thought of nothing but me, the sun, sand, and ocean sounds blissful.”

Drew gazes off into the distance. “Will booked Mauritius last night for our honeymoon.”

I hold up a hand. “Wait. Did I miss the part where you set a wedding date?”

She rolls her eyes. “No. We’re currently locked in debate over that. Will wants to get hitched in the bye week this February because he can’t wait much longer to marry me, and I want to wait until July when we can have a summer wedding and then fly straight out for two weeks to lie by the Indian Ocean.”

“So, you’re getting married in February then,” I clarify, knowing that Drew’s husband-to-be will absolutely get his own way.