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“It is,” he snarls. “I’ve sworn on Anna.”
Stop it, I warn myself as the words try to burst out.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, able to look at me closer when the traffic comes to a stop.
“Nothing.”
He removes his hand from my leg, staring firmly. “You’re lying.”
“Okay, it’s something. But thissomethingjust so happens to be the worst possible thing I could say. So please let it drop.”
“I can’t now that you’ve said that,” he mutters.
I swallow a big ball of nerves, hating this annoying word vomit habit.
But is that fair, blaming it solely on that?
Part of me needs to know. Really,allof me needs to know.
“It’s just…I always hear you speak about Anna. In interviews and in person. But never Rachael. I can understand the Rachael thing, with me…maybe it’s awkward. But never in public either. I mean, it’s none of my business, but….”
“No,” he says tightly. “It’s fine.”
“It must be difficult to talk about. Honestly, forget I brought it up.”
I imagine him screaming at me, telling me it’s none of my business, his handsome features warping coldly when he hears the way I’m speaking about the dead mother of his dead child.
Suddenly, he turns into a shorter cut-through road, drives right to the end, and parks beneath the shadow of a big tree.
The street is quiet this time of day, with only one person walking their dog from the other side, and the foliage is thick above.
I feel closed in but in a good way.
Like nobody can see us. Like we’ve slipped into our own private world.
He takes his hands off the wheel and sits back.
“Itishard to talk about,” he says. “But not for the reason you think.”
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
Logan
Bryce’s voice is in my head again, yelling at me, telling me to stop before I ruin what we’re building. It’s not just the charity I’m risking but the donations that fuel the good we do.
But my public appearances aren’t the source ofallthe donations. And now that I’ve met Lucy, what are the chances I can return to that life?
Zero,fuckingzero.
“There’s a reason I never talk about her,” I say, staring at the quiet street. The only pedestrian turns a corner and walks out of view. “I guess I’ve let people use their imaginations. It’s the most reasonable conclusion… I’m so heartbroken and devastated that I can’t even bring myself to say her name.”
“Yeah,” Lucy says softly from beside me. “That’s what I assumed.”
I turn to her, forcibly reminding myself this isn’t the time to devour her body with my gaze. My hand trembles as if trying to get me to grab her leg again, as I did while we were driving.
Her dress is all twisted around her thighs, messy, alluring.
I’m aching for her. In a way, I never did for Rachael or any woman. In a way, Icouldn’tbefore I met Lucy.
