Broken Hill Hurt (Broken Hill High 3)

My eyes remain locked on his as I step away from him and I see nothing, but an intense heartache staring back at me. It rips me apart and I want nothing more than to get the hell out of here.

I reach down for the bottle of Vodka and turn to leave. “Wait up,” Jess says a second later.

I turn back and watch as he reaches for his own bottle. “Hey,” Nate calls to Jess before stepping into him and discreetly taking his car keys from his pocket. “Walk her home.”

Jess doesn’t respond but I know he reads his brother loud and clear.

A second later, Jesse’s heavy arm is thrown over my shoulder as we walk out the side gate and into the middle of the road.

We walk for a long twenty minutes back to my place where we crash down into the grass of my front yard, both our bottles just about empty. “We can still be friends,” he tells me.

“What?” I grunt in confusion as my head begins to spin. I lay down and put my head in his lap before looking up at the stars. “We are friends.”

“We weren’t friends before you started doing the hokey pokey with Nate,” he reminds me, making me giggle as the tune of the silly song instantly gets stuck in my head. “Break ups mean I’m not supposed to be friends with you.”

“Yes, we were,” I tell him as he lays back in the grass. “Nate was still a douche when we started talking again. We were friends first. Nate can’t claim ‘bro code’.”

“What about the actual ‘bro code’?” he says on a yawn.

“Huh?” I grunt as his yawn becomes contagious.

“He’s my brother. Brothers aren’t supposed to be friends with their brother’s ex’s.”

I go silent for a second. I don’t want to lose Jesse. I can’t. I don’t think I’d survive without both of them. “Screw Nate,” I tell him. “We can be secret friends.”

I feel his whole body relax beneath me as I solve the issues of the world. “Secret friends,” he repeats with a sigh, clearly relieved.

My eyes grow heavy as I realize that no matter what happens between me and Nate, I’ve got an unbreakable bond with Jesse. He’s right up there with Brooke. One of my closest friends. He’s always got my best interests at heart even though he generally has a twisted way of showing it. “I love you, Jess,” I tell him.

“Don’t start this bullshit,” he tells me. “I’m trying to think.”

“Think about what?”

“Kicking Nate’s ass into next year.”

“That sounds good,” I murmur.

Another yawn completely takes over him as my mind begins to fall into unconsciousness. “You never actually told me what you were doing at the races.”

Yeah. This seems like the perfect time to fall asleep.

Chapter 17

I wake to the sunlight streaming down on my face and snuggle back into Nate’s arms. Hmmm, this feels good. I’ve missed these arms. I smile to myself as I notice his hand cupping a feel and love how in-love he is with my body.

Wait… why would I have his arms around me? and sunlight? What the hell?

I peel my eyes open and the sunlight on my face instantly reminds me what a shitty mistake I made last night. My head pounds and why the fuck am I laying in the grass? More importantly; the arms. They couldn’t be Nate’s.

I groan and go to look back over my shoulder as the arms tense. “Oh, fuck,” Jesse groans behind me.

Shit. I’m spooning Jesse.

We spring apart from each other as though we’d just been caught in the act. “He’s going to kill me,” Jess murmurs to himself. “I’m going to get another fucking black eye. He’ll disown me. He’ll never talk to me again. He’ll make my life a liv-”

“No, no, no,” I say, pushing myself up in the grass, cutting off his freaked out rambling. “We don’t need to tell him. Nothing happened… right?”

He looks at me as though I’m stupid before talking very clearly. “I had your tits in my hand.”

“But I have my clothes on and we were asleep. It’s not like it was intentional,” I tell him as my stomach reminds me of its current contents. “Besides, we’re friends. I sleep in the same bed with Brooke all the time and it’s not like you had morning wood poking me in the ass.”

“It’s not that same as when you sleep with Brooke,” he says, getting hysterical. “You know why? Brooke doesn’t have a dick.”

“Thanks. I’m aware of that,” I say, rolling my eyes as my stomach begins to gurgle. I can practically feel the blood draining from my face as my queasiness takes over. “I don’t feel too good.”

“Then go throw it up,” he says, bluntly.

The second I take in his words, I can’t help myself. I slap a hand over my mouth and throw myself to my feet before running to the bushes. I only just make it before hurling my guts up. I struggle to hold my hair back out of my face as my stomach just keeps on emptying itself.