The Very Naughty List

38. Hailey

38

HAILEY

Since Dylan’s offer was obviously contingent on me getting back together with him, my parents still desperately need my help at the diner. So when I wake up the following day, I offer to pick up another shift.

I figure it will give me something to put my mind into since I’m still reeling emotionally from my interaction with Dylan. I haven’t mentioned it to my parents or even Lucas or Pippa. Mostly because I still feel guilty about the fact that Dylan is essentially punishing our family over my choice to break up with him.

Not only is it wrong and childish, but I don’t know how to handle it at all. Dylan did so much damage to my heart and to my ability to let love in again without waiting for the other shoe to drop, that it sometimes feels like I have crippling anxiety anytime I’m around him. I hate that he still is able to rouse any reaction out of me at all. I just want to forget about him and that whole shitty time of my life.

It sure isn’t easy when he’s got a chokehold on the diner though.

When I get to The Griddle House, I try to just forget about all of it and focus on working my shift. It’s funny how there’s an easy rhythm of being here, even though the diner is currently buried under a stressful predicament. This place will always bring me comfort, no matter what. At the end of my shift, I take my time cleaning up. I actually enjoyed working here today more than I thought I would, and it helped to give my troubled mind a break for a few hours. But just as I’m finishing up and getting ready to go home, I notice a few of Brielle’s stuck up friends walk past me and sit down at a table.

I plan to simply ignore them since my shift is over and I’m almost out of here anyway. But I can’t help noticing the way they start to stare at me and whisper amongst themselves. They snicker and giggle and then turn up their noses as if I’m garbage compared to them with their designer handbags and people like Dylan Montgomery on speed dial.

One of them says something that unmistakably sounds like juicy gossip, but I can’t quite make out what it is. I can hear my name mentioned though, which is no surprise since the Divas seem to love using my life as fodder for their rumor mill.

I scowl at them and dismiss it. I’m used to them being rude to me, and it’s honestly not even worth my time.

I walk into the back to get my phone, remembering not to leave it behind at the last moment before I head home. But as soon as I reach for it, the screen lights up and I see a ton of missed messages and calls, and I get immediately anxious. Normally, no one blows up my phone unless there’s been some sort of emergency.

What the hell is going on?

It takes me only a few seconds to realize that it’s not just texts and missed phone calls that are slamming my notifications feed—it’s all of my social media channels too.

Even as I stand here holding the phone in my hand, the notifications are popping up faster than I can read them. Every single one of my social media outlets are blowing up. And everyone I know is trying to get hold of me.

I click on the first notification that my finger touches and it pulls up a social media story that was posted to my story and just commented on again a few seconds ago. When I see what it is and read the title of the post, I feel like everything in the room starts to spin.

Ho, Ho, Hoe—it’s a Merry Christmas for Hailey Bennett. Imagine sucking on those three candy canes this season. #ChestnutHillSlut .

The picture is a photograph taken of me and the three Cooper brothers at the Christmas Parade. It must have been taken right after we got off the float. I’m standing at the side of the street looking disheveled in my sexy Mrs. Claus dress, after just having orgasmed on Nick’s lap. And all three of the guys are standing around me with hungry looks in their eyes—looks that most definitely translate into the picture. The three guys look as if they want to each ravage me on the spot.

I remember that moment clearly. I just thought that we had done a pretty good job of covering it up. And I don’t remember anyone being around us at that exact time that could have taken a?—

Dylan .

Oh fuck.

Dylan Montgomery walked right past us while me and the guys were standing there after we had just gotten off the float. I remember how he glared at me and looked as if he was fuming with jealousy as he walked past us. He must have taken this picture and just happened to have lucked out that it depicts the perfect expression on all of our faces to imply there’s something going on between me and all three of the guys.

My feed is exploding faster than I can look at it, with both strangers and people who actually know me weighing in on my personal life. Several of the Divas are coming up with creative synonyms for slut, shaming my relationship with the Cooper brothers and calling it disgusting. People I’ve never even met are making jokes at my expense, labeling our relationship immoral and taboo.

Dylan’s name pops up in the comment thread several times, egging people on and planting the seeds that this “debauchery” has been going on ever since I set foot back in town. He even points out innocent moments that I’ve been seen around Chestnut Hill and implying a sexual undertone to everything, even when there wasn’t one there to begin with. He’s trying to trash my reputation, and it’s working.

I flip from one social media feed to another, but it’s been posted on all of them. My phone is getting hot in my hands as it tries to keep up with the deluge of comments and alerts.

Fuck .

Panic rises within me as I start to freak out.

“No, no, no, this can’t be happening.” I grimace and shake my phone like a Magic 8 Ball, as if that could somehow erase all of the posts and comments.

This is bad. Really bad. This is going to completely tank my family’s reputation. In a small town like this, all it takes is one tarnishing remark to sink someone’s career or their chances of future success. And this isn’t just one remark, it’s hundreds, maybe even thousands.

This was never supposed to get out. This was a secret game that the triplets and I were playing, and it was never supposed to turn into something real that could be paraded around in front of the town as if we’re a circus on display.

And even though my brain has been toying with the idea of not wanting to keep it a secret anymore, it was certainly not supposed to get out like this. Dylan is painting it all as something disgusting and improper. He’s making the guys out to be some sort of predators, and me out to be a slut with an insatiable sex addiction. He’s ruining all of the good things that have been building between us and skewing them into a nightmare.

I should have seen something like this coming. I should have known that my ex is so vindictive that of course he wouldn’t just let it go. Not after that phone call, and not after he got a glimpse of how happy and fulfilled Sebastian, Nick, and Reid have been making me. Dylan wants nothing more than to ruin things for me, and all because I left his cheating ass behind.

His bruised ego is going to be the end of me.

I don’t know what to do. I can’t read anymore. I can’t even look at the messages and missed calls on my phone because I don’t want to see my family’s reaction to all of this.

Pippa might have already known, and maybe my mom had a clue too, but none of them knew that it was like this .

Fuck, this means that Lucas knows now too .

How in the world am I ever going to face him now that he knows I’ve been having sex with all three of his best friends and lying about it straight to his face? He’ll never talk to me again. He’ll never trust me again.

He’ll probably want to kill Reid, Sebastian, and Nick too.

This is all turning into a terrible mess.

I shove my phone into my pocket and push out the kitchen doors back into the main area of the diner.

Everyone looks up as I enter the room, and my heart stutters in my chest at the sudden feeling of so much attention directed my way.

The post that Dylan made is going viral, and all of my private business is being spread all across town—hell, it’s gone far beyond the town limits by this point. That’s how things work when they go viral, and that means I’ll never be able to outrun this like I tried to outrun Dylan years ago.

I try not to look at anyone as I stride out of the diner and head straight for my car. I just need to get out of here and away from all of these prying eyes for a bit. I need to recover somewhere where I’m not under scrutiny and figure out what the hell I’m going to do about this and how I’m going to face my family.

I race toward my car, fumbling with my keys and dropping them once in the snow piled up at my heels. When I finally manage to get inside my car, I lock my doors and try to take a deep breath to calm myself. My hands are shaking against the steering wheel and it’s cold as fuck in here.

I try to think for a second about where to go.

Part of me wants to drive right back to Dylan’s fancy ass house and lay into him for what he’s done. He’s a coward at heart, and I want to read him the riot act for being such an asshole and demand that he take down the posts.

But then I realize it won’t do any good. The damage has already been done. Even if he takes the stuff down now, it’s already out in the open public space. All that going to his house is likely to do is result in an argument that makes things even worse. If that was even possible.

Maybe I should just drive straight out of town, just like I did the last time. I feel like I just need to get away from everyone and all of the rumors that are going to crush me like a pummeling tsunami. I need time to think and figure out damage control measures before my relationships with everyone that I care about start to fall apart before my very eyes.

If I go see Lorelai in person, then she could help me work through this and stave off the panic attack that is quickly threatening to engulf me.

But I know that I can’t just leave town. Not only because running away won’t fix any of this, but also because the one place that I feel the most like going to right now is home to Sebastian, Reid, and Nick. I feel safe with those guys, and they always seem to have a level head about figuring out what to do, especially Nick.

I start the engine, resolved that going back to their house is the right thing to do. I’m sure they’ve already seen what’s happening. Most of the missed calls and texts are probably from them. They’re probably worried about my reaction and might even be trying to reach me to get me to come straight home so that they can help.

I just need to get back to them and then we can figure all of this out together.

I start to drive, simultaneously trying to wipe my eyes, calm my nerves, and see the road through the falling snow.

The weather is intensifying and there’s a winter storm coming in, the kind of storm that would be perfect if I was curled up near the fireplace surrounded by the Cooper brothers.

I drive faster, just wanting to get there and get back to their arms where I feel safe and protected. I want to be cocooned in their embrace and listen to Reid tell me that everything is going to be fine as Sebastian strokes my hair with the broad palm of his hand.

I’m not even looking at the speedometer when I feel the car spin out from beneath me.

Here in Montana, it’s the black ice that is the most dangerous. They call it that because the ice blends in with the black of the pavement, making it impossible to see until it’s too late.

In the instantaneous moments that I lose control of the car and feel it spinning out from beneath me, I try to remember what to do. There’s some sort of rule to follow in order to counteract the movement—is it to turn into the direction of the spin, or out of it?

I can’t remember because my head is too filled with other nonsense and my mind and body are both panicking. The car careens off the road and tumbles over itself as it falls into a deep ditch.

I black out almost as soon as the hood hits the giant wall of snow that forms the side wall of the ditch and feels as if it’s made of bricks instead of snow.

It all happens so fast that I can’t even dissect the seconds leading up to the crash. And when the car smashes to a halt, I don’t even feel anything.

I don’t feel cold or pain or even scared.

For a second, not even enough time to comprehend, there’s a blur of images that play across the inside of my eyelids. Maybe this is what it’s like when they talk about our life flashing before your eyes right before you die. I’ve read about it before, and they say that you see the things that mean the most to you in your final moments before you leave this earth. I guess that explains why I see a momentary flash of Sebastian, Nick, and Reid’s faces all staring back at me before everything goes black.