The Heartbreaker

Chapter Thirty-Six

Jo

I glance down at my phone and freeze when I see that my incoming text is from Jagger. I look around quickly, thinking maybe he spotted me, maybe he’s here, but I don’t see him anywhere, and I would and not just because my skin prickles whenever he’s near. Maverick is hard to miss, tall, all roped in muscle with that mean gleam about him that he has, which is funny since he’s a sweetheart, but you’d never know it. I open the text and read it.

We need to talk.

I let out a laugh, clicking the side button before turning my phone over so that I don’t see the screen. Misty shoots me a questioning look, and I shake my head to dismiss it. She wasn’t lying when she said we were meeting up with some guys. What she failed to leave out was that Eric has been our good friend since we were kids and he and Paul are a couple. They’re both hot as hell though and have been known to pretend they’re our boyfriends when we go out and don’t want attention from guys.

“Trouble in paradise?” Eric asks, raising a brow.

“It was never paradise, only trouble.”

“Your favorite kind of vibe,” Paul says across the table. We all laugh. “I will say, it’s about damn time you left Lawrence.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Eric says beside me.

We all clink glasses and take a sip of beer.

“I didn’t realize y’all hated him so much.” I frown.

“Really, Jo?” Eric shakes his head. “The guy was the ultimate douche.”

“No, he wasn’t.” My frown deepens. “I mean, sure he was a little arrogant, but he wasn’t mean.”

“He was mean,” Paul says. “But let’s move on. We’re done with him anyway.”

“So, Jagger Cruz,” Eric muses. “He’s the oldest of the trio, right?”

“Yes, and he’s a Gemini,” I say. “Since I know that’s your follow-up question.”

Eric chuckles, running a hand through his perfectly bleach-blond hair. Normally, that look doesn’t do it for me, but with his spray tan and deep blue eyes, the blond hair looks hot. Not that he cares what any of us think. Eric has always been sure of himself and worn his skin rather than letting it wear him. In my insecure phase, I often summoned his confidence, but never achieved his no-fucks-given attitude.

“You’re an Aries, so that works,” Eric says.

“It’s like us, babe,” Paul says.

“Let’s hope he’s not as crazy as you are, honey.” Eric sips his beer, eyes twinkling. Paul flashes him his middle finger.

“Tell us about your venture,” Misty says. “Are you allowed to grow and distribute? How does this work?”

Eric and Paul put on their business caps and start talking to us about their marijuana company. It’s already been approved for medical usage, but not in the state of North Carolina yet. They explain the long, drawn-out process, but the way they talk about it, with such pride, tells me this is one thousand percent what they should be doing. It’s a long moment before my phone vibrates again. I’m two beers in at this point, so when I see another text from Jagger, this time saying, I see you. Meet me in the bathroom. Let’s talk. I don’t think twice. I hop off the barstool, holding on to Eric’s shoulder to steady myself, and stand up.

“Bathroom?” Eric asks. Misty and Paul are lost in conversation still, so when I nod, Eric stands up and holds my hand. “Let’s go.”

I don’t even stop him or tell him I’m meeting Jagger there. The alcohol went straight to my brain and I feel like I’m swaying on my feet. The restrooms turn out to be a long hall of gender-neutral doors with shared sinks right outside of the doors.

“You good or do you need help?” Eric turns me to face him and looks down at me. “You know I’ve been to this rodeo before.”

“I think I’m okay.” I laugh thinking of all the times Eric has helped unzip and re-zip my outfits over the years.

“You’re full of surprises.” Jagger’s voice startles me.

“I’m sure you mean that in the best way.” Eric’s eyes shoot to Jagger, who’s obviously standing behind me.

“Who the hell are you?” Jagger asks.

“I would ask the same, but the fact that you’re clearly an asshole just answered my question.” Eric’s eyes are hard as he assesses Jagger. I finally make myself turn around and God I wish he wasn’t so damn attractive and I wish I wasn’t so damn attracted to him.

“Can we talk alone or is your newest plaything going to join in on the conversation?” Jagger asks, his jaw twitching.

“I’m not her plaything. I’m her constant. I was here through the last relationship and will be here after you’re discarded, so I’d watch my mouth if I were you.”

“Really?” Jagger raises an eyebrow. “The plot thickens.”