Fractured Things - Samantha Lovelock Page 0,26

in and let it sluice over me. The pounding heat of the water helps relax some of the tension out of my shoulders but does nothing to wash away the remorse gnawing at me. Regardless, I stand under the spray until my skin is lobster red, and when I feel myself starting to nod off, I know it’s time to get out.

Wouldn’t that be a fucked-up headline? ‘Halliday heir dies in freak shower drowning accident’. Good old Eunice would have a coronary from sheer embarrassment over that one.

Making only a half-assed effort to dry off, I pull on a clean pair of pajama pants and collapse into bed. So what if it’s not even eight o’clock and my ninety-two-year-old neighbor wouldn’t consider going to bed this early? Guilt is chewing little holes in my soul, and sleep is my only escape right now.

Slitting my eyes against the morning sunlight beaming across my face, I roll onto my stomach with an annoyed groan. Forgetting to close my blinds when I go to bed happens all the time, but for some reason, it's far more irritating than usual this morning. Maybe it’s because I feel so shitty—like I have a nasty hangover without getting to enjoy the fun drinking part beforehand.

Is there such a thing as an emotional hangover? If there is, I’m in big trouble.

One hand reaches out and gropes blindly around on the nightstand for my phone, while my face stays buried firmly in my pillow. I manage to catch a thin, rounded corner between my fingers before the stupid thing slips sideways and tumbles to the floor. Groaning louder this time and adding in a few choice expletives, I force myself up onto my elbows and stretch one arm off the side of the bed to scoop up the offending device.

Through sleep-squinted eyes, I manage to see well enough to open the Spotify app on my phone and scroll to my ‘Get Out of Bed, Asshole’ playlist. Hitting shuffle, ’21 Devils’ by Super Cruel fills the room.

About half-way through the song, my restlessness wins out over the throbbing headache trying to blind me, and I force myself to get out of bed. Swapping my pajama pants for a pair of black basketball shorts and shoving my AirPods in, I switch over the Bluetooth output on my phone and jog downstairs.

A quick stop in the kitchen yields an ice-cold bottle of water, and I continue down to the gym my father had built. Even though it’s probably the last place I want to be right now, given I feel like complete and utter ass, maybe a workout will help get my head straight.

Yeah, right. Telling the damn truth is about the only thing that’ll do that, and the odds of fucking everything up make that a scary option.

For the next hour, I take my guilt, anxiety, and frustration out on my body, pushing myself harder and harder until I’m sweating buckets, and my muscles are screaming in protest. Pushing back the dark hair that’s fallen into my eyes and is sticking to my forehead, I pop the AirPods out and shut off my music. Twisting the top off the water bottle I brought downstairs with me, I guzzle three-quarters of the still-cold liquid in one go.

With every twitch and burn in my biceps and triceps and every ache in my core, I tell myself that this is what had to happen, and it's for the greater good. I did what was asked of me, and there’s no way I could have known what would happen. Maybe if I repeat it enough times, I’ll actually start to believe it, even though I know she never will.

The sweat running in rivulets down my spine is starting to give me the chills, so I flick off the lights and trot up the short flight of stairs to the main floor. Just as I reach the top, Stella turns the corner and smacks right into me.

My surprise at seeing her in my house is put on hold as her strong yet delicate fingers seem to have a mind of their own and lightly trace over my shirtless chest. Reveling in both her touch and the desire that lights in her eyes, I let her continue for a few more seconds before breaking the spell.

“Star?” Watching her get all stuttery and awkward while spitting out a terrible pun is entertaining as all hell. Because I’m me and knowing full well it turns her on, I