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Those memories are all it takes for a thick protective coat of ice to harden my heart against the one person I’ve always secretly feared could crack it wide open.
There’s no way in hell I’ll allow Ford to hurt me for a second time.
Fool me once, shame on you.
Fool me twice and I deserve everything I get.
Chapter Ten
Ford
Say what you want about Carina, but the girl has never had a poker face. And she doesn’t hide her emotions either. You always know where you stand with her. There’s no subterfuge or games. It’s one of the things I like most.
At this very second, numerous emotions are flickering across her expressive face, all trying to take precedence.
It’s utterly fascinating.
And here I’d thought she would be happy about the possibility of our parents getting back together again but, if the pinched expression she’s wearing is any indicator, that’s not the case.
When she remains quiet, lost in the turmoil of her own thoughts, I allow my gaze to travel around her private space. It’s a damn mess. There’s makeup and clothing everywhere. Pictures and dance posters cover the walls. I pick up the smushy pillow with a face and stare at it.
Is it a cat?
A bunny?
Who the hell knows.
I drop it back to the bed before spotting a stack of paperbacks on the nightstand. I pick up the one on top and glance at the cover. The book is obviously beloved. Both the cover and pages are well worn.
Ever since I met Carina at fourteen, she’s been an avid reader. The shelves in her bedroom at home are stuffed full of paperbacks. There have to be hundreds. She refuses to part with any of them. In high school, when I was out with friends, I’d stop at the local bookstore and pick one up I thought she’d enjoy. Then I’d leave it on her bed for her to discover. It’s been a long time since I’ve done that.
Years.
Afterward, she’d always pop into my room to thank me. The expression on her face is what always killed me. It’s like I’d given her the world.
I miss that.
Miss her looking at me that way.
I blink away those thoughts and stare at the guy on the cover. He’s an okay looking dude…I guess. If you’re into muscly guys with chests carved from marble and abs that border on the ridiculous.
Is this the kind of guy she’s into?
Just as I’m about to take a closer look, the book is plucked from my fingers. My gaze shifts to Carina, who has scooched toward me.
I nod at the paperback. “I’m just as ripped as that guy.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so.” She glances at the cover and studies it for a second or two. “I’m willing to bet this guy isn’t even that ripped. The image is probably photoshopped.”
“Bet?”
She arches a brow. “Huh?”
Her gaze flickers to mine as I roll from the bed and pop to my feet. My fingers grip the hem of my shirt. Her eyes widen as I yank it over my head and toss the cottony material onto the mattress. The muscles bulge as I flex my biceps. Ever since I was fifteen years old, I’ve been in the gym, lifting weights in order to get the body I want.
I’m proud of it.
Her gaze slides over my arms and chest before falling to my abdominals.
