Page 36 of Break Me Gently

His hand rested on my hip, toying with the gap between my jeans and top. That’s all it took for us to kiss. It began as a soft peck that grew deeper.

Someone cleared their throat.

My eyes opened.

It was only the waitress.

“Welcome to Mocksy’s,” she said, with zero enthusiasm in her soul.

Zach pulled back.

“Are you ready to order, or would you like some drinks first?”

Zach grabbed the menu, turning it over and scanning the contents.

“Two cheeseburgers—one with regular fries, one sweet potato fries—and for the drinks, one vanilla milkshake and one strawberry.”

I guess I was predictable.

“Sadie is gone for good?” he asked, placing the menu back in the holder at the end of the table.

“As far as I know, she hasn’t been back to our house, but I don’t think Mum’s telling me everything,” I said, glancing up as the bell above the door jingled and someone came into the restaurant.

It was my worst nightmare.

Alisha.

All blonde and perfectly applied makeup, still effortlessly fashionable, while I sat there in comfortable sportswear, ketchup smear probably still on my napkin. The smell of frying oil and melted cheese suddenly felt cloying instead of comforting.

She was at the takeaway counter, ordering out, tapping her nails against the counter while she waited. I almost sighed in relief—until she turned around, and I watched recognition land as she stared at Zach.

“Zach,” she screeched, the sound cutting clean through the low hum of the diner.

I closed my eyes and ducked my head down, letting my hair fall over my face like a curtain.

“It’s been years. When did you get back?”

Her heels clicked against the tiled floor as she crossed toward our booth. All the same insecurities and shame crept back until I felt sick, my stomach twisting tighter than the vinyl seat beneath me.

“You ignored my messages.”

I snuck a glance at Zach. He wasn’t looking at Alisha. He was staring at me.

“Who’s this?”

I tried to shrink back into the booth, but his hand dug into my hip, anchoring me in place.

“Amber,” he said, flat and final.

Her brow furrowed as she studied me, and I watched the moment she placed my face—the same malicious light flickering back into her eyes, sharp as it had been years ago.

I straightened my back and raised my head.

“Hello, Alisha,” I said, as her gaze swung between the two of us, the fluorescent lighting overhead doing nothing to soften the look on her face.

Malice or jealousy—I couldn’t decide which emotion was stronger. Either way, she wasn’t happy.

Chapter 20