Page 42 of Fractured Hearts

“Maverick and I aren’t together. We never were. He’s my best friend, and I’m his. That’s all it ever was,” I admit, my voice barely a whisper. Ezra stiffens and lets his arms drop, but I hold on to him for a few more seconds before letting go, too. He backs up and stares at me in confusion.

“I don’t understand.”

“You assumed we were together, and I let you because I hated how much pain you put him in. I hated you. I wanted you to hurt, even if it was just a fraction of the pain he felt,” I admitted, the tears drying on my cheeks as I spoke.

Ezra frowns as he takes in my words. “No. You have feelings for him. I can see it.”

“Does it matter? His feelings are for you, not me.”

“Of course it matters! I’ve heard you tell everyone else that their feelings matter. Yours do too,” he says, frustrated. He doesn’t get it. Sure, my feelings matter, but when those feelings aren’t reciprocated, it just hurts. I’ve had this argument with Harlow enough times to know that it’ll just go in circles.

“I’m going to start sleeping on the couch,” I say, changing the subject.

“No,” Ezra says.

“I’m the only one who will fit on it, so it makes the most sense.”

“Jo—”

“This way you and Maverick can get to know each other again without thinking about who is sleeping in his bed,” I say, and turn to leave.

“Jo!” Ezra yells, and I can feel him step toward me without even looking. I run up the stairs, knowing he won’t chase me. I need to get my phone and call Harlow. I fucked up.

I fell for them both.

forty

MAVERICK

I wake with a start. The bed I’m in is comfortable, which is strange. Cracking my eyelids, I see the beachy bedroom and remember I fell asleep next to Jo. Her side of the bed is empty.

“Jo!” I hear Ezra yell from downstairs. I scramble out of bed, nearly fall on my face from tripping over my discarded clothes, and yank the door open. Jo plows past me and into the room.

“What the hell is going on?” I ask, rubbing my face to try to wake up more.

“I just need my phone,” Jo mumbles. I’m not awake enough for whatever is happening right now.

“Jo!” Ezra says, pushing past me to get into the room with us. He’s shirtless and sweaty. The man is muscular and covered in a light dusting of dark hair. Watching him would make my mouth water if I didn’t just look up and see the tears streaking down Jo’s face.

“What the fuck? What did you do?” I push Ezra out of my way, knocking him into the bed. I gather Jo in my arms, but she stiffens.

“Of course. I did something. I’m so fucking horrible that it’s obviously my fault she’s crying.” I turn to look at Ezra. He’s fuming, arms crossed over his broad chest and blue eyes flaming.

“It wasn’t him,” Jo says, gently extracting herself from my arms. I let her go unwillingly. She looks up at me with the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen. “I let him believe we were together so that he’d think he didn’t have a chance with you.”

I can’t do anything but blink. “What?” I ask eventually.

Jo just shrugs, shoulders hunched as she stares at the floor.

“Why?”

The silence is loud. I look at Jo, who won’t meet my eyes, and then to Ezra, who’s staring at me like I’m an idiot.

“Why?” I ask again, more forcefully. I fucking hate being in the dark, and it feels like these two have some secret I’m not in on.

“Because I wanted it to be true, Maverick!” Jo shouts, finally looking at me. Tears stream down her face, and all I see there is devastation.

“What?” I ask stupidly. I know Jo isn’t a fan of Ezra. She never made that a secret. At least she wasn’t the last time I saw her. Now she’s glaring at him while he looks at her with sympathy. But her glare lacks fire, and she’s holding his gaze. Like they share something I’m not a part of. “Wait,” I mutter. I only latched on to the end of what she said. “You wanted it to be true?”