Page 36 of The Heart Breaker

The vendor finally wraps the hot dog and holds it out, along with the can of diet coke. I reach for my bag, already diggingaround for my wallet, but before I can get it out, Holden leans in and slides his card across the counter.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I say, pausing with my hand still buried in my bag.

He shrugs and tucks his card back into his wallet, a smile pulling at his mouth. “My treat.”

“Thanks,” I say, taking the hot dog and can from the vendor.

I’m not going to argue with someone who wants to buy me food. It’s not like I have anyone else paying for my meals.

Sure, guys have bought me plenty of drinks before—shots I never asked for, cocktails pushed into my hand after I already said I had a boyfriend.

But food is different. Guys usually buy food when they’re on dates, and since my boyfriend lived a thousand miles away, I never got to go on a date.

Whenever I’d see Chase, he’d barely get the door closed before trying to get me out of my clothes. I used to think it was romantic—how he couldn’t keep his hands off me.

God, I was such an idiot.

It hits me now, that sex was basically all Chase and I ever had. We never went out to dinner. We never went to the movies. We never did anything that looked remotely like two people actually wanting to spend time together. I’d go to his room, we’d spend the weekend in his bed, and then I would leave.

He didn’t want me.

He just wanted my body.

They all do, a little voice in my head whispers in my head.

All they want is to fuck me.

Holden nudges my elbow and asks if I want to split churros too. I say yes—obviously—because I’m a slut for a sweet treat.

I head over to where everyone’s gathered on the grass with my hot dog in hand, and of course Holden follows. I don’t havethe energy to argue, especially when he shrugs off his jacket and lays it on the grass, gesturing for me to sit.

My friends are all hanging out with their boyfriends and I’m… alone. So I lower myself onto the grass, crossing my legs, and crack open my diet coke. He drops down right beside me, one hand braced behind him, stretching his legs out.

My stomach growls again, so I unwrap my hot dog, the smell of grilled onions filling the air, but as soon as I take a bite, Holden lifts his hand in the air, waving at someone.

“Yo, Ellis. Over here, man!”

My spine goes rigid before I can stop it, and I freeze with a mouthful of hot dog.

Of course he’s here.

This is the universe punishing me. It has to be.

I force myself to swallow down my bite, feeling it drag down my throat while I keep my eyes fixed on the screen, watching as someone gets stabbed again.

My pulse betrays me anyway, pounding hard against my throat.

Don’t look. Don’t?—

My eyes flick over anyway.

Cole’s cutting across the lawn, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, and my stomach twists as the memory of his hands on my skin comes rushing back to me.

It’s been a little over a week since I let Cole fuck me, and no matter what I do, I can’t seem to scrub any of it away.

I could blame it on the fact that he’s the first guy I’ve slept with after being with Chase for three years, but I’d be a filthy little liar.

His murderous stare locks onto mine and I swallow hard, but then a brunette tugs on his sleeve, dragging him onto one of the lawn chairs, and his eyes rip away from mine. She drops into his lap and his hand settles at her waist.