Made for You (The Best Mistake 2)

His voice was so dead that she almost panicked. Almost begged him to take her again. But instead she gave a businesslike nod. “Good, then we’re agreed. It doesn’t have to be forever. I just need a little space.”

“Baby, I’m about to give you all the space you need,” he said with a blank expression.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she yelled at his retreating back.

But her only answer was the resounding slam of her front door.

* * *

Brynn barely remembered the drive home, but by the time she made it up to her bedroom with the intent of taking a bath to soothe her rage, she had several missed calls, which she’d ignored.

There were three from her mother, each with an accompanying We still love you, but are you doing drugs? voicemail. There were two missed calls from her sister, which meant Sophie had been updated on big sister’s meltdown and wanted all the gritty details.

There was even a typo-ridden text from her dad saying that his college roommate had gone into psychiatry if she ever needed someone to talk to.

And one missed call from Will. But no voice mail.

It didn’t even occur to her to hit redial. What could possibly be said?

Brynn turned on the hot water in the tub before bracing her hands on the vanity and taking a deep breath as she stared at the mirror. She looked…awful.

Hair that was shorter than it had ever been before and sticking up and curling in weird places. The fact that it had been dyed back to her usual blonde should have been calming, but combined with the layered cut, it was all wrong. It was like old Brynn had collided with the new Brynn, who had in turn tried to go back to old Brynn, only…

She couldn’t go back.

Her eyes had a wild, unhinged look that she didn’t recognize, and her white blouse had pink spots from where she’d gotten blowback from the strawberry grenade she’d tossed at Will.

Her mind kept flitting back to that moment when she realized what he was going to say.

On one hand, she regretted her reaction. She could have just let it go. Given it no more reply than a rolling of the eyes, and let her parents assume it was merely round two thousand eight hundred and ninety-one in the saga that was Will and Brynn hate each other.

But oddly, calm had never once entered her mind.

And given a time machine, she wasn’t sure she could muster up a calm reaction if she got a do-over.

Because in that moment, she hadn’t been feeling calm, or annoyance, or even rage.

She’d been hurt.

Which was stupid, really. She’d known the minute she’d knocked on Will’s door and asked him to have a fling that it was irresponsible. She had known on some level that having your worst enemy accompany you to a tattoo parlor was begging for trouble.

But then in some strange, unexplainable little bubble of time, she’d trusted him. Trusted him to decide what permanent brand she was putting on her body. Trusted him not to tell anyone.

Some detached, obviously moronic part of her had thought it was their thing. A forever marker of their ill-fated but somehow necessary time together.

And he’d thrown it in her face.

Swallowing around a lump in her throat at the ache, she dumped some of her favorite honey-almond bubbles into the steaming water and let it foam enticingly before slowly beginning to disrobe in wooden, mechanical movements.

Her eyes caught on her reflection in the mirror as she shimmied out of her skirt, and she sucked in a breath at the sight of the tattoo. Her fingernails raked over it lightly, wishing she could scratch it right off and be done with it. Be done with its memories. Her fingernails scratched harder. God, what had she been thinking?

“I don’t think it works like that.”

Brynn let out a screech at the unexpected voice as she threw her arms over herself, futilely trying to cover the essential areas. Not that it mattered. Will wasn’t even trying to look at her more interesting parts.

And if Will Thatcher was passing up an opportunity to stare at her boobs, they were really and truly over.

Hot blue eyes gave her a pitying look as she grabbed for a towel and wrapped it around herself. “I don’t know why you bother. It’s nothing I haven’t already seen, and the novelty’s worn off. Not all that impressive to begin with, actually.”