Page 128 of Tell Me Something True

“The cop have you doing community service?”

“Not Miles. Urban. My eldest brother. He thought it’d be a good idea for me to shadow Dr. McNabb for the rest of the summer.”

“You want to be a vet or something?”

Dropping her gaze to the spot where the sleeves of his coveralls were knotted together low on his waist, her mouth twisted, she shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe? I mean, I thought I did, but it’s a lot, you know? Trying to figure out one thing you want to do for the rest of your life. Which was why Urban suggested—and by suggested” —she lifted her hands, still holding her phone in her left hand, and made a set of air quotes— “I mean insisted in his quiet, beardy way that I spend some time at the clinic to see if veterinary medicine is really the career path I want to pursue.”

“Why?”

“Uh, because I’m starting college in a few weeks. And I’ve already declared my major in biology,” she added.

“Ohio State gonna kick you out if you change your mind?”

She frowned. Replayed the few conversations they’d had in her head.

Not once had she mentioned where she was going to college. If he was anyone else she’d gone to school with, she’d assume he saw it on her Instagram bio, but he, being the anti-social psycho he was, wasn’t on social media.

“How do you know I’m going to OSU?”

He blinked, once, slowly.

Then he blushed.

The rat fink.

The pink staining his cheeks made him seem softer. More human.

Like he, too, was dealing with all the emotional upheaval that came with being attracted to someone totally wrong for him.

Gaze down, he moved to put his hands into his front pockets but missed. Twice. Giving up, he set his hands on his hips as if that was where he’d wanted them all along.

And his cheeks went an even deeper pink.

Verity tipped her head back and sent up a silent prayer to the heavens to just… make… it… stop.

He shrugged. “It’s a small town, princess. Guess I heard it around.”

That was a neat trick. How he employed that snarky, snide tone while looking like he wanted to crawl into a hole.

“Your obsession with me is cute and all, but I think it’d be best if you didn’t talk about me. To anyone. Ever.”

“That your way of saying you don’t want to answer my question?”

“Hardly.”

“Well?” he asked after a beat of silence.

“Well what?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You gonna answer?”

“I can’t recall the question,” she said, all nonchalance as if his silly question, and the underlying truths it could possibly dig up, had slipped her mind.

He once more stepped forward—another un-Reed-like behavior. Getting closer to her instead of backing away.

Forcing her to stand her ground.

Something that became increasingly harder to do with each step he took. And take them he did, until they stood so close, the toes of his workbooks bumped up against her sneakers and the subtle, mixed scents of sweat and oil coming from his sun-warmed skin filled her nose. Until she had to tip her head back to maintain eye contact.

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