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“Something tells me you’re worth it.” And then he winks at me, just before turning to return the marker to the drawer.
For whatever reason, the words and the wink piss me off.
“You’re just like all of the rest, aren’t you?” I blurt out. “Think you can flirt a little. Get in a girl’s good graces. Then take advantage of her, yeah? Is that some sort of guy code?” I push the sleeves of my hoodie up roughly, my body growing warm thanks to the weather, but also because of my slowly growing anger.
“Don’t box me in with whoever hurt you. I’m a good guy. Ask Charleigh.”
“Yeah, well, her opinion got me to where I’m at.” The words are out of my mouth before I can truly think them, and I gasp loudly, my hand going to my slackened jaw.
I didn’t just…
But I don’t…
I know this wasn’t Charleigh’s fault.
I’m just angry.
And at my wit’s end.
I’m over it all, and Cade Johnston is just digging and digging and digging, causing the strife to bubble over edge.
I’m stuck in my spot, couldn’t move if I tried, and Cade takes the opportunity to slowly walk up to me. One step. Two.
Slowly, but surely.
Until he’s right in front of me.
His stance is widened so the sides of his shoes are against the sides of my bare feet.
He is incredibly close.
I can smell him.
I don’t want to smell him.
I don’t want to remember the faint smell of soap and detergent. I don’t want to remember the way the stubble along his chin and cheeks has me aching to run my hand over his cheeks. How the flecks of colors in his eyes are only more pronounced right here, so close. How he has a single freckle under his right eye.
And I certainly don’t want to remember the way my body betrays me as his eyes move over me.
How it aches to find comfort in someone’s arms, even after everything I’ve known was taken from me.
My will.
My words.
My future.
It was all taken from me, because of one man.
“Who hurt you, Dylan O’Malley?” he says softly as he looks down on me.
I don’t correct him on the name; at least he used Dylan this time…not that I wanted to give him that bit of truth in the first place. The least I can do is keep my full name to myself.
Then his hand is up and brushing my cheek. My breath quivers, but he’s doing nothing more than brushing a flyaway behind my ear.
“Think about the movie. Please. They can work around your pregnancy. They can keep it quiet until you’re ready to share.”
I shake my head. “I won’t be ready to share.” And I won’t be. Ever.
