Page 1 of Done Dirty

PROLOGUE

Paige had spent two days telling herself she was over Wade Rivers.

She wasn’t.

“Stupid,” she muttered, hitting her fist against the steering wheel.

“What’s that?” Becca asked. Her hand pressed against the dashboard as Paige took a corner a little too fast. “Oh, God. Oh, God.”

“Relax,” Paige said, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. “Take a drink from my Stanley. I made a to-go mimosa before we left the house.”

Becca took a quick sip and shuddered. “This is very irresponsible. We’ll be in so much trouble if we get caught.”

“No one is going to catch us. We’re like superheroes. Doing a service for the community. We’re representing women everywhere.”

“I feel a little sick,” Becca said. “Maybe you should slow down.”

Paige tapped her foot to the brake, deciding Becca was right. She was letting her anger get the best of her.

But it was righteous anger.

She’d wasted four months of her life on that miserable parasite, cooking his food and doing his laundry and telling herself it was different this time, that he was different, that a man that beautiful who actually seemed to want her around was worth changing her life for.

She’d swapped out most of her wardrobe for the kind of clothes he liked seeing her in—tighter, shorter, more skin—and told herself showing off her body was the reason she worked out. She’d even priced out a consultation for a boob job after he’d mentioned, twice, that he’d prefer if she was “more than a handful.”

And worst of all, she’d given up her apartment—a perfectly good apartment with hardwood floors, good light, and a landlord who fixed things when they broke—and moved into his place because he wanted to take things to the next level. And because she’d wanted to believe living together meant something.

It had meant something all right. It just hadn’t meant something to him.

“I just can’t believe I didn’t see it coming,” Paige said, her hands tightening on the wheel. “I’m such an idiot. I mean, I’m barely awake. I roll out of bed—a bed, I might add, that he was perfectly fine having sex with me in the night before. Do you know the things I’ve let that man do to me in bed?”

“You’ve mentioned a thing or two,” Becca said. “He’s got issues.”

Paige grunted, grateful Becca was on her side. “And there I was in nothing but his T-shirt waiting for my first cup of coffee when he strolls in the kitchen after his morning workout and starts making one of those stupid smoothies. Then while the blender is running and I can barely get a coherent thought in my brain, he tells me things just aren’t working between us and that it’s time to end things.”

“I still think you should’ve thrown something at him. Maybe the coffeepot.”

“I was too shocked to do anything but stand there.” Paige shook her head. “And then he has the nerve to offer me some money to help me get settled in a new place. After I’d already paid him this month’s rent.”

“Scum,” Becca said sympathetically.

“And then he just went to take his shower like he hadn’t upended my world. And I refuse to take a dime from him. I’ll sleep in my car before I take a penny of his money.”

“You’re already sleeping on my couch.”

“That’s different. That’s temporary.”

Becca took another sip from the Stanley and made a face. “This is strong. Is there any orange juice in here?”

“A splash,” Paige said. “And it’s vodka instead of champagne. Don’t judge me.”

“I’m not judging. I’m just saying it’s eight in the morning and we’re day drinking so you can break into your ex’s condo.”

“We’re not breaking in. I have a key and I’ve paid rent. I have as much right to be there as he does.”

“Semantics.”

“My boots are in there,” she said. “The good ones. And my grandmother’s ring. My clothes are still in his closet. He was always buying that trashy lingerie for me, too, and wanting me to do that weird role-playing stuff. I’ve got a whole drawer full. Maybe I’ll set it on fire on my way out the door.”