“Trent,” I hiss into my phone, “stop calling me!”

“You want me back, Hailey, admit it. You were happy we talked yesterday.”

“No, I wasn’t!” The lady sitting beside me in the dentist’s waiting room gives me a reprimanding look, and I turn away, lowering my voice to an almost non-existent whisper. “I wasn’t.”

Oh God, why did I ever think that answering one of his calls would convince him to leave me alone?

And even worse, why does his voice remind me of good moments and make me wish to have them back? I mean, he’s right, we had some great times.

Right up until he put his dick into my cousin and kept doing it until I found out. By chance. So why am I even thinking of the bright spots in the fraud that was our relationship?

Jeez. I’m weak.

I’m lonely.

“…meet up at your place,” Trent is saying, and I blink, the waiting room with its stark white walls and gray seats coming back into focus. “Watch a movie, drink some wine. Relax.”

“I…” I close my mouth, images of me and Trent on the couch hitting me like a ton of bricks. We used to do that. A lot.

Holy shit, am I that desperate to say yes? As if I don’t know what kind of guy Trent really is?

I ignore as best I can other images – of me and Kaden sitting on his couch, doing anything but watching TV.

Touching.

Kissing.

Roleplaying.

Fucking.

God, that was hot.

He’s hot.

And ugh… why am I thinking of him again? That douche.

“Look, I got to go now,” I say quickly and disconnect, before my weakness gets too much to handle.

What was I thinking, answering that phone? I should have blocked that asshole’s number.

And I’m not talking about Kaden here, although… yeah. Not that Kaden ever texted me since I left.

Why would I get involved with two assholes in a row, and fall so hard? It’s as if I can’t learn to save my life.

Quite literally.

* * *

“Call Kaden.”

“No.”

“Come on, Hailey.” Maggie makes the best puppy eyes as she stirs her hot chocolate, hip propped against the counter of my IKEA kitchen. “You’re miserable. I bet he is, too. Call him.”

“Jesus, Mags, come off it, okay?”

“You know my grandmother never called my grandad after a misunderstanding. Then he went to war and when he came back she didn’t recognize him. He had to try everything to convince her it was him.”

“That was a movie. But good try, and passable acting. Brownie points for effort.”

“Oh really. When will you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“What happened between you guys. I thought you were so deeply in luuurve, and it gave me hope – because as you know my love life is non-existent and I live vicariously through my friends – and then you go and leave the guy and don’t even give me some juicy details to chew through!”

“Are you done?”

“So what is the deal, anyway?” Maggie grumbles when I turn away. “We always told each other everything. Don’t shut me out, bestie. Tell me?”

I snort, but I’m caving in. There’s only so long a girl can hold out against her best friend. For so long I kept it all bottled inside, as if that would make it less real, but I’ve been choking on it. Suffocating.

So I guess it’s no surprise it all comes rushing out. Verbal vomit alert.

“He had texts from a woman on his phone, Mags. And pictures! He’s been cheating on me all this time, and I never had a clue. How’s that for naïve, huh? After what happened with Trent.I should know better, right? But he was so handsome. And sweet. And hot, and I…”

I fell so hard I think my heart broke.

“You sure it wasn’t his sister or something? On the phone?”

“He doesn’t have a sister.”

“Or sister in law?”

I shake my head, angry that my eyes are prickling with tears. Didn’t I shed enough already? “I’ve seen his sister in law in pictures. This one looked nothing like her.”

“And was she sexting him?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Was. She. Sexting. H—”

“No, she wasn’t.” I fume at the idea. “Thank God she wasn’t. But she was… very familiar with him.”

“Ah. Familiar as in…?”

I open a cupboard, not really looking for anything, to avoid punching my bestie for pushing so hard, probing wounds that haven’t scabbed over yet. “As in, she called him hon, and said she missed him. And sent him kissy pics!”

“Kissy pics. Wow.”

“Don’t laugh!”

“I’m not.” She puts down her mug to lift her hands, brows arching, all fluffy-kitten innocence. “I would never.”

“Ah-huh.” But I smile a little, my anger deflating.

“Was he replying to these texts?”

“I don’t know! I don’t… Look, wouldn’t you be upset? Finding the texts and pics?”

“I… guess.” She makes it sound like a question. I don’t like that. “If he was promiscuous. If he stared at other girls. Gave you strange excuses to come home late. Did he do all that?”

“No, but come on. He never talked to me about this woman.”

“Did you ask?”

I grab a random mug from the cupboard and study it for chips. I didn’t ask him. I accused him of seeing another woman, and he said he wasn’t.

I didn’t believe him.

“Hailey—”

“You say you have no experience in love, but now you’re saying you’d be above it all? That seeing a pic of another woman on the phone of the man you—” You love. “You just wouldn’t care?”

“I never said that. What I meant was… what if you jumped to conclusions because of your history?”

“You make me sound like a criminal. ‘History.’ Huh.”

“You know what I mean.”

Carefully, I put the mug back inside the cupboard. I do know what she means. She means what happened with Trent broke me, broke my trust.

Maybe she’s right.

And I hate the tiny niggle of doubt in the back of my mind.

“He didn’t take me to his apartment often,” I whisper. “And didn’t talk to me much about his family, his life.”

“But he did take you. And you know what his sister in law looks like.”

I nod. All true. He has trust issues, too, I know that. His ex, a casual hook-up if he’s to be believed, broke that trust, going behind his back and talking about their sex life, then officially accusing him of deviant practices. She dropped the charges eventually, but the damage was done.

Could Mags be right? Should I call Kaden? Should I—?”

No.

No frigging way am I putting myself through that again. I’m done with love, with men.

With Kaden Hansen. We were an unlikely couple from the start – the artsy photographer from downtown Chicago and the handsome mechanic with a penchant for ass-play and raw, rough sex.

Only a miracle could throw us back together again.

They say you should be careful what you’re wishing for.

Then again, I hadn’t realized how much I did wish for it until it happened, and by then it was too late.