Page 132 of Meant to Be

HARLEY

Four Years Ago

Aloud bang startles me from my sleep. Wearily, I rub my eyes and sit up, looking around the room. It’s bright. Too bright. Wincing, I kick off the covers and scrape myself off the mattress.

I stumble into the shower. My head pulses. I drank too much. Rubbing my face, I lean back against the tiles and let the warm water run over my skin.

The next time I check my phone, the time reads well past lunch time. I sigh. I must have been totally out of it to sleep almost the whole day. Pausing outside the spare room, I listen for any sound of Brennon’s parents before I make my way to the lounge room. Brennon is sprawled across the lounge, one leg draping over the arm of it, the television on.

“How ya feeling?” Brennon asks, briefly glancing at me as he reaches into the popcorn bag.

“Like I drank too many tequila shots last night,” I groan. My limbs feel heavy and slow. “Why did you insist that was a good idea?”

Brennon grins, shrugging. “It felt right at the time. You were fucking wasted.”

Throwing a hand through my hair, I collapse into the recliner. The leg rest flings up with a whoosh sound and I settle in. I didn’t want last night to be hazy. I wanted to remember every moment.

Josie’s lips kissing down my neck. Her tight body in my hands. How good she felt when I was inside her.

“It’s you. It’s always been you.”

I go to send a message to Josie on messenger, but I’m logged out. I hope she isn’t mad that it’s taken me this long to text her. I go to log in to Facebook, to see that I’m signed out of that as well. Frowning, I enter in my details. It tells me three times that my details are incorrect.

Exhaling, I throw my phone back down. My head hurts too much to look at a screen right now anyway.

“How do you feel?” I ask.

Brennon is clad in baggy pants and a shirt that looks like it might be his Dad’s. It has several stains down the front of it. He clears his throat and wipes his hand down his chest.

“Fine. Was a bit crook this morning, but better now that I’ve eaten.”

“Want a coffee?”

“Would love one.”

With a push, I get to my feet and pad into the kitchen. Brennon’s house is about three times the size of mine. It’s not anything too flashy, but it’s a hell of a lot nicer than the walls I grew up in.

While I wait for the kettle to boil, I try logging into my other socials. All of them say the same thing. My details are incorrect.

“What the fuck?” I mutter, frowning.

“What?” I hear Brennon call.

Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I carry the two mugs of coffee back to the lounge room.

“Cheers mate,” Brennon thanks as he takes it and places it down on the coffee table in front of him. “What’s wrong?”

“My phone,” I reply, throwing myself back into the chair after I’ve put my mug down. “It’s not letting me log into any of my accounts. Maybe I’ve been hacked?”

Brennon raises an eyebrow. “You were drunk as fuck, posting all sorts of weird shit. You might have got logged out for spam, or something.”

“What?” I ask, glancing at him. “Posting weird shit? Like what?”

I pull out my phone again. That doesn’t really sound like something I would do, but to be fair, I don’t really remember the second half of the night. I remember the party, being with Josie, but after that, it’s a mixed blur of tequila shots and a joint that clearly rocked me a little too hard.

“You don’t remember?” Brennon shoots me a look and I send him a confused one in return. “And by the way, since when have you been fucking Princess Josephine?”

I blink at him. “How do you know about that?”