Please let her forgive me.
But I can’t think about that now.
Right now, I have a war to win.
22
MACKENZIE
“Cash won’t stop calling,” Freya murmurs, putting her phone down and staring out at the water. “We should have just let him come with us.”
“We couldn’t just steal Chance’s son and take him with us to Queensland,” I reply in a dry tone, although I really wanted to.
When Freya came over and found me crying in Cash’s arms, she held me tight and promised me that I was going to be okay.
When she suggested we leave for a few days, I jumped on that idea. I told the school I was sick, and I suppose in some ways I am. Cash wanted to come with us. He didn’t want to leave me, but unfortunately, he’s Chance’s son, not mine, and I couldn’t just take him, even though I wished we could.
So here I am, on a beach in a bikini, a Long Island iced tea in my hand, pretending that everything is fine in my world.
And I know it will be.
I’ll get over Chance and be fine. It’s just going to take some time.
When a hot, shirtless man walks past, winking at us, I let my eyes trail after him. “What’s the saying? To get over someone, you should get under someone new. Maybe I should get under him.”
Freya almost chokes on her drink, laughing. “Maybe you should wait a while before deciding to do that.”
“Boring,” I mutter.
Her phone beeps with a text. Freya’s been getting them nonstop. “Who is messaging you? Gunner?”
She sighs and runs her hand through her long hair. “No, it’s Chance. He’s been asking how you are.”
I grit my teeth. “He cheated on me, and he’s asking how I am? Just delete his number, Freya. He’s dead to me. He’s in the coffin, and the lid is closed.”
“All the way?” she asks in a small voice.
“The lid is nailed down,” I reply, putting my drink down and crossing my arms over my chest. “I don’t even want to talk about him anymore.”
Reality will come around soon enough.
We both have to get back to work soon, and I can’t hide out here forever.
“What are you doing here?” I ask Jesse as I walk up to my front door, dragging my suitcase behind me. My ex is the last person I expected to see. I realize now that I did to Chance exactly what I did to Jesse when I caught him cheating on me with his receptionist—I turned around and left, ghosting him. Maybe that quiz I took on the plane is right, and I do have an avoidant-attachment style.
Or maybe I’m just an Aquarius sun with a Scorpio rising.
He’s dressed casually in a white T-shirt and jeans. How very unlike him. He usually loves showing off his crisp, white shirts, fancy suits, and ties.
Freya steps around the car, her eyes widening when she spots him. “Wow, when it rains, it pours. What are you doing here, asshole?”
Jesse’s lips tighten in annoyance. He’s the opposite of Chance, with no tattoos, light hair and eyes, and about 6 feet tall, lean with some definition. He definitely doesn’t fight in a ring for some fun. No, he fucks his employees for that.
Well, fuck, Chance pretty much did the same thing, didn’t he?
I guess all men have something in common.
“I’m not in the mood, Jesse. You shouldn’t have come here. You cheated, and I moved away. That’s it,” I say, pinching the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on.