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ME: It is.

ME: What I want.

COLTON: Then there’s nothing more to say, is there?

ME: I suppose not.

COLTON: Ok.

ME: Okay.

I swallowed and looked at the screen.

There.

It was done.

It was over.

There really was nothing more to be said.

This was for the best.

That was probably why it hurt the most.

CHAPTER TEN – COLTON

rule ten: make sure you’re in the right frame of mind to date.

Josh checked his watch. “The date went well, then.”

I held up my hand as I sat down at the table. “Don’t fucking go there,” I said, grabbing the beer bottle that was in front of me. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“What happened? I thought she seemed great.”

“The fuck did I just say?”

“You mistake me for someone who cares.”

“Well, that didn’t go very bloody well, did it?” Dylan joined us and took the chair next to me, while Sebastian took the empty one next to Josh.

“What didn’t go well?” Seb asked.

“His date.” Josh sipped his beer. “Been less than an hour.”

“Ooh. Tap tap squirt?”

“Fuck off.” Despite myself, I laughed. “No. We met for dinner, but it went to shit halfway in. I paid, she left, I came here to drown my sorrows in cheap beer and regret it all tomorrow morning.”

Josh leaned forward. “What went wrong? I thought you liked her.”

“She’s a great person,” I answered.

“Who are you tryna convince there?” Seb raised his eyebrows. “Us, or yourself?”

“Yes.”

Dylan gave me a knowing look.

Shit.

He knew about Tori.

How did he know?

“Go on. May as well say it,” I told him. “I know you want to.”

He rubbed his chin. “I don’t know what you’re on about, mate. I’m just thinking.”

“Mhmm. You know.”

“I do know.”

“Know what?” Josh looked between us. “Why are there so many fuckin’ secrets?”

“There aren’t. Literally everyone but Kinsley knows you’re going to propose,” Seb pointed out. “Although she’s getting suspicious. She called me yesterday and asked me if I’d thought about marrying Holley.” He snorted. “Like I plan on proposing to her until she’s absolutely told me now is the time. You know how she feels about planning.”

He wasn’t wrong there.

“Just fucking say it, Dylan,” I said.

“Say what?” Josh asked. “Do you know what they’re talking about?” he asked Seb.

Seb shook his head. “Not a fucking clue.”

“Cora’s great,” Dylan said, toying with his bottle. “But she’s not Tori, is she?”

I rolled my shoulders. “No. She’s not.”

“Tori?” Seb’s eyebrows shot up. “You want to date Tori?”

“Probably,” Josh said nonchalantly. “He’s been sleeping with her for months.”

“How the fuck did you know that?” I demanded.

“Small town. You live down the street. She’s not that great at parking. Kinda put two and two together after a while.” He picked up his bottle. “Oh. Kinsley knows, too.”

Of course my sister knew.

Why wouldn’t she?

“And I’m assuming Saylor knows?” I asked Dylan.

“Figured it out the other day when you met Cora.”

The day Saylor and Tori left the bar with Tori in a foul mood.

I grunted and finished my beer.

“So I was the only person who didn’t know?” Seb scoffed. “Thanks.”

“No. Holley doesn’t know. I assume Ivy, Kai, London, and Piper don’t know,” I offered. “Although you’ll tell Holley, and she’ll tell Ivy, who’ll tell Kai, and I assume London and Piper will find out somehow, and we’ll never be able to speak to each other again.”

Everyone laughed.

“Drama queen,” Josh said. “So you were sleeping together. That’s all, right?”

The look in his eye told me he fucking knew that wasn’t all, but he didn’t care. He was going to make me say it.

“I don’t want to talk about her. She called it quits this afternoon. She’s out on a damn date with London and some guy called Max, so can we focus on something else?”

“Football!” Dylan said brightly. “Let’s talk about football.”

“Real football or soccer?” Seb asked dryly.

“Football,” our British friend repeated. “You know, the one where you use your foot for the ball?”

It was an argument we’d heard a thousand times.

Nobody ever won.

“I’m going to the bar. Anyone want a drink? I’d rather run through town naked in January than bear witness to this fucking argument again.” I got up, and everyone motioned that another beer would be good, and immediately got back into the soccer-slash-football argument.

I headed up to the bar. It wasn’t full Friday-night busy here yet, so the wait to order more drinks wasn’t too long. The time away from the table did allow me to give my head a shake and sort my thoughts, and I was grateful for that.

I couldn’t believe she’d ended it.

By text.

She really had to like that Max guy, whoever he was. Although our relationship was tumultuous, a part of me had felt like we were slowly getting somewhere. Sometimes I got glimpses that made me wonder if it was more than sex, if she had an ounce of the feelings for me that I had for her.

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