AllFreeNovel
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I can’t.
“Theo.” My breath catches. “What are you doing?”
I need him to stop. Because the urge to tell him something, to share my broken pieces is overwhelming.
But he’s not my friend. I can’t trust him.
“I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.” He reaches for me, brushing the hair out of my eyes. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry. I went too far.”
“You only care because I got hurt.”
“Truce?” he asks quietly.
“What—”
“Look, I don’t know how you did it, but I know it was you who tagged our cars and ruined the party. And honestly, sunshine, I’m impressed. But if you keep on down this road, I won’t be able to protect you.”
“Funny, because I thought you said the person I should be scared of is you.”
His lips quirk at that. “Yeah, I did say that.”
“But?”
He stares down at me, making the butterflies in my stomach flap wildly. It’s always the same with Theo, he reels me in, holds me captive until I can’t think straight.
“Seems like I only want to hurt you now if it ends up with you screaming my name.”
Fuck.
“Now let me clean you up and then we talk about how I’m going to make it up to you.” Theo guides me over to the counter, his hand on the small of my back. Without warning, he lifts me up as if I weigh nothing and deposits me on the side.
“You’re going to need to get out of that shirt.” He’s careful as he helps me out of it.
“Eyes up here.” I snap my fingers, unable to hide my amusement at his obsession with my boobs.
“Stay put.”
Theo is meticulous as he gathers all the supplies he needs to clean and dress the cut. “It isn’t too deep but it might need butterfly stitches.”
“I’ll be fine,” I insist. “Just plaster me up and send me on my way.”
“Raine, I—”
“Stop.” I press my finger against his lips. “This isn’t us, Theo. Let’s not pretend it is.”
“Have you always been this cynical?” he asks as he carefully applies a dressing to my arm.
“When you grow up in the system, you learn pretty quickly that there’s very few people you can trust.”
“Must be lonely.”
“It’s less complicated that way.” I shrug.
“There, all done.” He steps back, surveying his handiwork.
“You’re pretty good at that.”
“One of the downsides of playing rugby.” He takes my hand and runs my pointer finger over a faded scar along his collarbone. “This bled like a bitch. I thought I was dying.” I pull a bemused face and he chuckles. “I was only eight at the time.”
