Page 37 of The Grump I Loathe (The Lockhart Brothers #3)

EDDIE

A trip to urgent care and a minor concussion wasn’t on my bucket list for tonight. But hell, neither was breaking up with Connor. Not that he’d ever acknowledged we were in an actual relationship!

Because that was too much for him.

I ground my teeth together and immediately regretted it as my head throbbed. Tears sparked behind my eyes. Tonight had been a disaster of monumental proportions, and all I wanted to do was rewind the clock to before I’d decided to come to this stupid wedding in the first place.

But I couldn’t. The doctor had told me to rest and limit screens for the next few days.

All I could do was lie on my hotel bed and stare at the ceiling, listening to Pretty Woman play on the TV while I alternated between crying jags and stuffing my face with room service.

Leigh had ordered me a late-night snack before dipping out to collect some painkillers from a twenty-four-hour pharmacy .

I grabbed another chicken tender from the plate next to me.

Honestly, I expected more out of the chicken fingers and fries.

I expected them to fill the hole eating its way through my chest. They weren’t able to do that, though.

The pain had already seeped too deep, clawing at my heart, and I hiccuped as a few tears stained my pillowcase.

I blinked the rest away, conscious that every bout of tears only made my head ache even more. The last thing I needed was to be concussed and dehydrated. “Ugh,” I groaned into the ether. “Hurry up, Leigh!”

I wanted my painkillers.

I wanted to sleep.

But Leigh had been told to monitor me for any worsening symptoms tonight and had expressly forbidden me from going to sleep without anyone there in case I died.

I snorted.

I was pretty sure that was a myth. But I wasn’t about to piss off the woman who’d dropped everything, abandoning her night to Uber with me to urgent care. Besides, would I really be able to sleep after everything?

I doubted it.

Despite how exhausted I was, I couldn’t stop thinking about the hundreds of ways I’d been told this thing with Connor was going to fail. That it couldn’t possibly work. I rolled my eyes, wincing as I did, and more tears threatened to fall.

Darius had warned me to be careful. Connor had repeatedly worried if we were being discreet enough. God! That uncomfortable twinge in my own gut every time we snuck a moment together should have been warning enough .

But it was a warning I’d ignored because I wanted to be wrong. I’d wanted to believe that what we had was the real deal, that Connor saw me in a way no one else did, that loving him wouldn’t end the way it had with Ryker.

I’d wanted to believe that Connor wouldn’t ask me to compromise myself, but he had in all the ways that forced me to hide myself away. To make myself small. I was only good enough to be in his life as long as no one noticed I was there.

I saw it now, clear as day. The moment I’d wanted to change the dynamic, the moment I’d wanted this to be real, it had all gone sideways.

I deserved to be more than someone’s dirty little secret.

My phone buzzed, and I stretched toward it on the side table.

I wasn’t supposed to be looking at my phone—it was another damn screen!

But what if it was Connor? What if he wanted to talk about what happened tonight?

Desperation fueled me, concussion be damned, and I snatched it up, getting my eyes on a text. Thirty seconds wouldn’t hurt.

But it wasn’t Connor. My chest tightened as I read Alannah’s message.

Eddie!!!!

My fingers flew across the screen. R u okay?

Ya! What r u doing?

Why are you still awake? I wrote back instead, concern filling me. Are Dad and Valentina fighting again?

No. They’re still trying to fix my third-place finish. She added a smiley face emoji.

How ?

They’re emailing the judges together.

The ache in my head spread. Honestly? Dad and Valentina could barely put their differences aside long enough to sit through a meal together, but they could somehow figure out how to work together to spam the competition judges?

I think it might work , she wrote. And I heard Mom laugh a bit. Maybe they’ll make up after this!

The concern in my chest sank into my gut, churning uncomfortably.

I really needed a win tonight, but I doubted this was it.

The judges weren’t going to be swayed by some midnight email rant—and I didn’t think Dad and Valentina were going to work things out.

I sighed heavily, my lips buzzing. I couldn’t bring myself to break Alannah’s heart—not after how difficult this weekend had already been for her.

Just focus on enjoying your giant bed and fluffy pillows and the complimentary snacks in the mini-fridge , I wrote.

Oh my gawd!!!!! Alannah wrote. They have little cans of Pringles in the cupboard!

Go wild.

A devil emoji. I am. Night Eddie!

Night Lana.

I flipped my phone over, heart clenching. At least someone I cared about was happy right now.

There was a knock at the door, and I dragged myself into a sitting position, frowning at the floor as I waited to see if my head would stop spinning. Leigh would have let herself in, so that meant…more room service? When I felt stable enough to walk, I got to my feet to answer it .

“Cassie?” I said, surprise momentarily washing away the dread inside me. “What are you doing here?”

She gave me a sad smile before she latched onto me, squeezing hard. “Leigh messaged me. He’s a capital D dick,” she said, “and you deserve so much better!”

“Cass,” I grunted. “I need the blood to get to my brain.”

“Now more than ever,” Leigh agreed, running up behind her and shoving through the door. Her arms were laden with junk food. “Sorry. She beat me here.”

Noah came up behind her, carrying what must have been two dozen little packages of M&M’s.

“What did you two do, raid a vending machine?” I asked.

“We raided three vending machines,” Noah said, ducking into the room.

Leigh dumped their spoils onto her bed. “I didn’t know what you would be in the mood for. I mean, these occasions usually call for ice cream, but room service was being stingy on the portion size, so we’ve covered the gamut of other options. Salty. Sweet.”

“Savory,” Noah said, holding up a pack of pork rinds. He shrugged. “This is my first time being invited to…” He trailed off, giving me a shrug.

“A breakup slumber party?” I said.

Noah scratched at the back of his head. “Yeah. I didn’t even know there was anything going on. So either I’m the most oblivious person in the world or?—”

“No,” I interrupted softly. “Connor wanted it that way. With the no-dating policy in place, he didn’t want to look like a hypocrite. ”

Noah’s lips pulled into a thin line. “Right. Even though he is.”

I sighed, hugging my arms to my chest. “You guys didn’t have to do all this.”

“Sure we did,” Noah said. “You’ve done so much for us. Brightening up the office. Getting everyone together outside of work. It’s finally starting to feel like a family. So why wouldn’t we be here for you?”

I tried not to tear up. “Don’t make me cry. It hurts my head.”

“Sorry,” Noah said sheepishly.

I nudged him. “This is all really sweet. But, honestly, I don’t think I have it in me to rally.” If I’d learned anything from Alannah this weekend, it was that sometimes it was better to sit with the sad feelings. Sometimes you needed to.

“That’s okay,” Cassie said. “We don’t expect you to be the life of the party tonight.”

Leigh drummed her fingers against her lips, looking apologetic.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I feel so guilty. I told you to go for it, and the next day we’re in urgent care.” She shook her head. “I never should have encouraged you.”

“Hey,” I said, catching her hand. “That’s not your fault. This breakup was a long time coming. I was just too stubborn to see that.”

Cassie tipped her head onto my shoulder. “Or maybe you just wanted to be hopeful. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Yeah, sure . Except for the way my heart had cracked open.

“But if you want to be sad,” she said, “then we’ll be sad. You don’t have to do this alone.” Cassie produced a pair of pink and black crystals from her pocket. “I brought my rhodonite. It’s good for healing after a heartbreak.”

“Thanks, Cass,” I said, giving a humorless little laugh, wondering if the doctors would take me back for a quick heart-ectomy. It would be less painful to just tear the thing out.

I’d always believed space after a breakup was a good thing. And thanks to the concussion, I’d been forced to do just that. Leigh wouldn’t let me back in the office for three days, and I’d finally gotten the chance to use some of LockMill’s generous sick leave.

Now that I was allowed regular screen time again, Leigh had no reason to bar me from my computer. When I arrived at the office, I made a beeline for Mr. Cheesers who squeaked at me with indignation. At least, that’s what I wanted to think it was.

“Did you miss me, you furry load of whiskers?” I asked him, plying him with treats that he stuffed into his cheeks. His tiny penthouse had been recently cleaned, and there were tiny flags hanging around his cage that looked remarkably like the ones in the game.

After spending fifteen minutes apologizing to Mr. Cheesers for not seeing him for close to a week, I dove into my work emails the second I reached my desk.

“Just take it easy,” Leigh said, leaning over my cubicle wall.

“I will.”

“Frequent breaks, or whatever the doc said.”

“I will.”

“I mean it, Eddie. I’m setting a timer. ”

That got a little smile out of me. I gave her a salute. “Aye, aye, captain.”

She rolled her eyes and headed off, and I returned to answering an onslaught of last-minute narrative questions from the design team.

A few days wouldn’t normally have been a lot to miss, but considering there were only three weeks left until the game was green-lit for the distributors, the hourglass was almost empty.

I kept my head down for most of the morning, afraid to look in the direction of Connor’s office.

I doubted the storm from the wedding had fully blown over.

But even as my head told me to stay away, another part of me was aching to track him down and talk things through.

Now that I was here and caught up on my emails, the desire to understand how things had gone so wrong was overwhelming.

I peeked over my cubicle wall. It had been nothing but radio silence on Connor’s end.

No call.

No text.

No carrier pigeon dropping notes at my windowsill.

No apologies and queries about how I was feeling.

Maybe it was delusional, but some part of me was still desperately hoping that in our time apart, he’d come to the conclusion that he was wrong and that he wanted to fight for me after all.

Connor’s door opened, and my pulse jumped. Now was my chance. I tried to catch his eye as he breezed by, but it was pointless. He had his nose buried in his phone. A spark of irritation bloomed in my chest.

Did he really care so little? Did I not deserve at least a glance?

I flopped down in my seat, batting away the emotions. Irritation was better than despair, I supposed. Anger was better than crying in a bathroom cubicle over my lunch break.

I ate the lunch Cassie had packed for me. She’d been bestie extraordinaire since the breakup, leaving me sweet treats and hiding crystals in my pockets. I fiddled with the red jasper I’d found this morning, rolling it across my desk, trying to distract myself with a piece of coding.

By mid-afternoon, the distraction wasn’t working anymore, and the desire for answers beat like a drum at the back of my head.

Cassie had said the jasper was for strength and courage, so I summoned all of that and walked straight up to Connor’s office door, knocking before I could talk myself out of it.

I needed to explain myself better than I had the night of the wedding.

I hadn’t intended to cross any lines, but I also didn’t want to be his secret anymore. And now we had to figure out where we stood. Because occupying the same space while pretending the other didn’t exist was horrible and suffocating and he had to feel that too, right?

I grumbled, narrowing my eyes as Connor held up a finger, taking a phone call instead of gesturing for me to come in.

It was the equivalent of being shushed, and I crossed my arms, holding in that ache in my chest as I waited for him to finish up the call.

The longer he spoke, the more worried he looked, a deep line cutting across his brow.

Something had clearly upset him.

Was it Grace?

Or maybe his mother?

I found myself worrying over the content of the call, wanting to help regardless of how wretched he’d made me feel these past few days. But before I could even bring myself to open the door and ask, he’d jumped up, thrown the door wide, and shoved past me.

“Connor!” I called, loud enough that he couldn’t ignore me.

He whirled around. His eyes were cold and aloof and so unlike the warm brown gaze I’d grown used to. “What is it?” he growled.

“We need to talk,” I insisted. “About what happened. About… us .”

He shook his head. “We don’t need to talk about anything. There is no us anymore.”

I darted after him, reached for him. “You don’t really mean that.”

He stepped away before I could catch his hand. “We’re done, Eddie. You said it yourself. And I don’t have time to dissect it with you. I have to catch a flight.”