Some like It Wild (The Wild Ones #2)(44)
Author: M. Leighton

Not that she needs any help. Laney is perfectly capable of making her own choices. And if she chooses a douche bag like this, then he’s the luckiest douche bag in the world.

I wash that bitter thought down with a long pull of my beer before I toss a couple bills on the bar and get up. “Good seeing you again, Lila,” I say to her, never taking my eyes off Shane. “As for you, all I can tell you is that if you hurt her, you’d better hope to God that you’ve got a damn good hiding place. You don’t want to be seeing me again.” Just to prove my point to both of us, I half lunge at this pompous prick. I grin when he flinches. “That’s what I thought.”

I aim for the door, but as I glance to my right, I see Laney’s platinum head, calling to me like a beacon in the dead of night. Detouring, I make my way over to her, leaning around the person closest to her so I can whisper in her ear. “Happy birthday, Laney. Be happy.”

With a kiss to her cheek, I turn to leave.

“Wait, Jake!” she calls, struggling to get around chairs and bodies. “There’s something I wanted to tell you.”

I put my hand up to stop her. This doesn’t need to go on any longer. I hurt the things I love. That’s why I don’t love. And Laney deserves better. “Don’t bother. I already know.” I give her a wink. “I’ll be heading out soon. Stay and enjoy your party. I’ll see you around.”

And, with that, I turn and walk away, leaving Laney and whatever she might’ve felt for me behind.

TWENTY-FIVE: Laney

A thousand things are running through my head as I watch Jake walk out of the bar. And out of my life.

He said, “See you around,” but we both know that will never happen. Once he goes back home, that’ll be it. I’ll probably never see him again.

And he obviously wants it that way. He knows that will happen, too.

Slowly, I sink back into my seat, debating the wisdom of chasing after him. But what purpose would that serve? Just to further embarrass myself? I knew what he was like. I knew what he wanted, what he was capable of giving in terms of a relationship. I was just stupid enough to think he might change. Or that I could change him. Or that what we had might make him want to change.

Only it didn’t. Nothing changed.

Except for me.

I barely feel like the same person that came back to Greenfield at the beginning of summer. Fall is approaching and, like nature that undoubtedly feels the death of winter coming on, I feel the death of my heart coming on. I got what I wanted—an escape from my life and who I was. But it came at great cost.

My happiness. My heart.

Where do I go from here?

“Laney,” I hear from what seems like a thousand miles away. I look up and find Shane standing on the other side of the table, watching me with a sad expression on his face. He tips his head to one side, a silent invitation for me to come around to him. On numb legs, with my mind elsewhere, I get up and maneuver my way out from behind the table and cross to him.

“What is it, Shane?” I can’t keep the irritation from my voice. A conversation with my ex, no matter how short, is the last thing I need right now. I want to strangle whoever it was that told him about my party to begin with.

“I wanted to tell you I’m sorry,” he begins.

“Shane, not now. I know what—”

“Not about that, although I’m sorry about that and I still wish you’d let me explain my side of the story. But that’s not what I meant. I just wanted you to know I’m sorry about what happened with that Jake guy. Nobody deserves to be treated the way he treated you.”

I frown. Shane has my full attention now.

“What do you mean?”

“I just talked to him at the bar. He was dreading coming in here to tell you good-bye. He was afraid you’d make a big scene. Try to follow him or something.”

I narrow my eyes on him. “What? That’s ridiculous! He would never say that.”

Or would he?

“If you don’t believe me, ask Harmony. She got a refill on her drink when we were talking.”

I turn to Harmony, who is sitting on the other side of the table, talking with a couple of our friends. “Harmony!” I call. She looks up and smiles. “Did you see Shane talking to Jake Theopolis a few minutes ago?”

“Is that who that hot guy was?” She laughs. “Yeah, I did, but I got your back, Laney. Don’t you worry.” She winks at me and raises her glass. My stomach squeezes into a tight knot, as if it’s shrinking away from the explosion that’s happening inside my chest.

I glance back at Shane. He looks genuinely sympathetic.

“I feel like this is all my fault, Laney. I should never have believed Tori when she said it was just a prank we were pulling. I—”

“What? Tori did not tell you that!”

“She did! Hand to God,” he says, holding up his hand as if he’s swearing.

I shake my head. It’s all just too much right now. “It doesn’t matter now, Shane. It’s done. Over. No hard feelings, okay?”

He looks down as he takes my left hand in his and begins fiddling with my ring finger. “Is there any chance my ring will ever find its way back here again?”

I pull my hand away. “Shane,” I say, backing away. From him. From the crowd. From the pain. From this place. “I just can’t do this right now.”

And with that, I run. I just run.

TWENTY-SIX: Jake

I can feel sweat running down my chest as I sit, perched on the edge of the big boulder, gulping down a bottle of water.

“You’re gonna puke if you don’t slow down,” a familiar voice says from behind me. I turn to see Jenna walking casually up the path toward me. “And, dude! There’s no puking on my rock.”

“This isn’t your rock,” I argue good-naturedly. “This is family rock.”

“Which, in this family, means it’s mine.”

I shrug. “Yeah, pretty much. Spoiled brat.”

“Arrogant dickweed.”

She climbs up the back of the rock and scoots down to sit beside me facing the river. We used to sit like this when we were little. When we’d help in the orchard on hot summer days, we’d come here to swim in the river and cool off, then we’d get up on the rock to dry. We weren’t allowed in the water without Dad around, but we did it anyway. I was the only one who ever got in trouble for it, though. Of course. Dad would always catch me in my room later to give me the big lecture on how my carelessness had already cost him one family member, that he wouldn’t allow it to happen again.