Page 85 of Wardrobe Malfunction

I grab a T-shirt that was hanging over the back of the sofa. Not caring if it’s dirty, I pull it on. “Honestly, I’d rather chop my nuts off, fry them in a hot pan, and eat them than ever get back with you.”

“Fuck you!” she snaps.

“And there’s the girl I never loved.” I laugh, pushing my feet into my sneakers. “Now, get the fuck out of my trailer, and don’t ever come back, you crazy bitch.”

“You’ll regret this, Vaughn West!” she yells like a bad movie villain before slamming her way out of my trailer.

I grab my cell and call Charly’s number, but it just rings and then goes to voice mail.

I wait for a beat, making sure Piper is gone, before leaving to find Charly. I don’t trust Piper, and I sure as hell don’t want her following me to Charly. Knowing Piper, she’d take pictures of me with Charly and sell them to the highest bidder.

I head straight for the wardrobe trailer, hoping she’ll be there.

And she is, but she’s not alone. Ava’s there.

“Hey, Vaughn, what can we do for you?” Ava smiles at me.

Charly hasn’t looked at me. She’s over on the other side of the trailer, looking through a drawer.

“I just need Charly for a minute.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. Charly, Vaughn needs you,” Ava calls to her before disappearing into the back.

I see Charly’s body stiffen.

“Is it important, or can it wait?” she says without even looking up, her voice as rigid as her body. “I’m busy right now.”

Pretending to look through a drawer. Right.

“It’s important,” I say in a voice that means I’m not fucking around.

I won’t have her avoiding me and hurting over something that she thinks happened that definitely did not when I can fix this with a few words.

She pauses and then slowly rights herself before turning to face me. The hurt in her eyes that she’s trying to hide slays me.

“Fine,” she says tonelessly, her eyes narrowing, her hands going to her hips. “What’s so important that it can’t wait?”

If she wasn’t hurting and this wasn’t a fucked up situation, I’d be turned on right now.

Okay, maybe I’m a little turned on, but she’s hot as fuck. And, when she’s angry, she’s off-the-charts hot.

“I ripped my shirt,” I lie, knowing that Ava could be listening to what we’re saying right now.

“Okay, give it here, and I’ll fix it for you.” She sticks her hand out, knowing full well I don’t have a ripped shirt and that I definitely don’t have one with me.

“It’s in my trailer.”

“Convenient.”

I step closer to her, and she steps back.

I hate that so fucking much.

I grit my jaw. “We need to talk,” I say in a whispered voice. “And we can’t do that here with Ava listening.”

“Maybe I don’t want to talk to you,” she hisses.

“I don’t care if you do or not; you’re going to. I won’t have you thinking something that’s not true when I can clear this up for you right the fuck now.”