Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Bailey eyes me for a moment before she sighs. “Why don’t we get out of here and go get a drink?”
We end up at Mitchell’s, a hole-in-the-wall dive bar that Bailey frequents when she’s in town, and Kaylee, who apparently was watching the performance online, meets us there since she lives in the city and attends NYU.
“It’s been too damn long.” Kaylee wraps her arms around me for a hug. “I can’t believe the warden actually let you out.”
“K,” I groan, not wanting to hear, again, how much she can’t stand my husband. Once upon a time, they got along. Until we moved to Boston and shit hit the fan. He wanted to focus on school while Kaylee wanted to drown her sorrows in the bottom of a bottle, and I was stuck in the middle. It led to a lot of fights and me staying home with David and studying instead of partying. She’d constantly tell me he was too controlling and would ruin my college experience. It didn’t matter, though, because shortly after the start of our freshman year, I got pregnant, and after that, my life revolved around Felix, school, and David.
After three double shots of Johnny, and an hour of playing catch-up, I bring up the elephant in the room. “So that song… Care to explain it?”
Both women laugh. “I’m pretty sure it was self-explanatory,” Bailey says. “That was my brother’s poetic attempt to get over you.”
“When the hell was he ever into me?” I ask, throwing my hands up in frustration.
“He’s been in love with you since you moved here,” Kaylee says.
“What?” I gasp in shock. “No…”
“Yes,” they both say in unison.
“You’re the only one who didn’t notice,” Kaylee says. “We all saw it, but since you never reciprocated, everyone assumed you didn’t feel the same way. And then you got together with David.”
“I… I didn’t know.” I rack my brain, trying to think of any indication Camden would’ve given that he had feelings for me, but I can’t think of anything. “We were just friends.”
“Yeah, because you were either dating someone or on a man-break,” Kaylee points out. “The guy was head over heels in love with you, and you totally friend-zoned his ass.”
“What? No, he wasn’t!” This doesn’t make any sense. “He never said anything!”
“Because he’s not the kind of guy to fuck with a girl while she’s in a relationship,” Bailey points out.
“Didn’t you ever wonder why David hated Camden so much?” Kaylee adds.
“I thought he was just acting crazy.” The bartender serves us another round of shots, and I down mine, then ask for another.
“Slow down,” Kaylee warns. “When’s the last time you drank?”
“Don’t worry about me. I can handle it.”
CHAPTER NINE
LAYLA
I open my eyes, and the bright lights peering through the slats of the blinds have me quickly shutting my lids. The room feels like it’s spinning, and my head is pounding to the beat of an off-tune drum.
“I think… I drank too much,” I groan to myself.
“No shit,” Kaylee says, making me jump up and screech.
I push up onto my elbows and glance around, noting that I’m lying in bed with Kaylee, and it’s not my bed. “Where am I?”
“My place.” She quirks a brow. “Don’t you remember?”
I drop back down and grab a pillow to cover my face, willing the throbbing in my head to go away while I try to recall last night. I remember the charity concert, Camden singing the love, er, heartbreak song about me, getting drunk at the bar, going to a tattoo shop…
“Oh, shit!” I pop back up, and the room swirls around me. It takes a second for everything to become clear, and once it does, I jump out of bed and run into the en suite bathroom, tugging the sleeve of my shirt down as I go to expose my collarbone.
“I got a tattoo?” I gasp. “Oh, my God! I got a freaking tattoo.”
“Were you really that drunk?” Kaylee asks, sitting on the toilet to go pee.
“No… Yes… Ugh, I don’t know. I remember getting it. I just can’t believe I did that.” I stare at the black, gray, and white shaded camera with the cracked lens. There’s one word written in script across the front of it: Shattered. The name of the song Camden sang last night. Shards of glass dance up the front of my shoulder and across the top. It’s beautiful and sad and…
“What the hell was I thinking?” I murmur, pulling my shirt back up to cover the ink and wondering how the fuck I’m going to hide this from David. He’s going to flip his shit when he sees this. Just the idea of me talking to Camden sends him damn near over the edge. When he finds out I got a tattoo… a freaking tattoo with the title of his song on it, he’s going to kill me.