Page 66 of Trailer Trash

“Alright,” I say, but I’m undecided.

The truth might ruin my relationship with River. I want to tell him, though. If the roles were reversed, I’d want him to tell me. I want to believe I’d forgive him. My brother will forgive me, because if not…

Harlow.

Think about her.

“There he is,” whispers Nina.

She points at Harlow’s booth far in the distance. Through the sea of people and passing servers, Jaxson stands, his posture stiff and unsure. He waves his hands and holds up his phone.

Good. The emergency call lie.

Sweet Harlow frowns.

I smile.

And the bastard leaves without even paying the bill. Doesn’t even offer a ride. I know he drove her. And she thinks I’m bad.

Harlow rises from the booth, gawking as he leaves without so much as a hug.

Perfect.

“Wow. I didn’t think he’d be so cruel, but it works in my favor.”

“I don’t know, Killian. I think it’s kinda cruel to mess up her date with this elaborate plan.”

I laugh, loud and genuine.

“If I hadn’t looked through her phone, I wouldn’t have the time or place. Everything else was luck. Hey, do I smell like pot?”

“A little.” She hands me a bottle of cologne I had her carry in her purse. “I think it’s more than luck, Killian. You planned this.”

I shrug lazily. “Harlow thinks that guy is perfect. I knew he wasn’t.”

“Smoking pot is different than the drugs we’ve done.” She smiles knowingly, then hands me breath strips. “For the pot.”

“Thanks.” I take a few, then open my wallet and thumb some cash, tossing it lightly on the table. I glance over, seeing Harlow hand the waiter a credit card. Her expression is absolutely devastated.

Poor fucking thing.

“Let’s go. I’ll wait for her out front.”

Nina nods. “Oh, um, River told me about Asher. I’m sorry.”

My molars slam down and my chest tightens. I stand up. “We won’t talk about him.”

Before rising, she frowns subtly. “It was my ex,” she mutters. “That’s when I started using. He ran away with my sister. What irony, huh? I get cheated on and do the same damn thing. I’m destroying my second chance at happiness.”

Without thinking, my gaze snaps to Harlow in the distance. I look away fast and slip my hands into my pockets. “That’s why I don’t care about second chances. Those you can lose. Just have fun. That’s all I give a fuck about. And right now? My fun is sitting over there.”

17

Harlow

The Miami heat clings to my skin. I’ve barely stepped out of the restaurant before my skin is clammy with sweat. I thumb through my phone, debating on a taxi or rideshare.

“Where’s your boyfriend?”