Page 51 of Tell Me Something True

And yes, she liked his attention.

It was flattering, having someone like him interested in her.

Flattering and an ego boost.

One she’d desperately needed after Reed Walsh—another cocky, pretty, tatted up blond boy, albeit closer to home—squashed it last month.

“Look,” she said to Eli. “Patrick and I are just talking. Not dating. Not hooking up. Just. Talking. I’m not sure when or if that will ever change. But if it does, that’ll be my decision. You know, the people who raised me did an excellent job. I’m fantastic. And it would be nice if one or two of those people started to trust me to make my own decisions.”

“I do trust you,” Eli insisted, looking suitably abashed.

As he should, since he was one of the people who helped raise her.

Yes, Urban was her legal guardian, but ever since the night their parents were killed in a car accident, all her brothers had taken care of her—even Eli, who’d only been twelve at the time.

And while she truly appreciated everything they’d done for her, she wasn’t a kid anymore and she was tired of being treated like one.

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt,” he added.

“I don’t want that, either.” She’d spent the majority of her life making sure that exact thing didn’t happen. She’d been smart about guys, never letting any of them get close. Never letting herself fall too hard.

Until she did fall, hard and fast. And yes, it had hurt.

Landing on your butt was never fun.

But she was better for it. Wiser.

“Look,” she told Eli, “I really don’t think Patrick’s going to break my heart.”

She’d have to like him a whole lot more than she currently did for that to happen.

She didn’t plan on liking any guy that much again anytime soon.

“And while I can’t promise you that my heart will never be broken, I can promise that I’ll always know my worth and I’ll never settle for less than I deserve.”It was the same promise she’d made to Miles last week when they’d attended Lily Kincaid’s wedding.

Right before she’d danced with Reed.

After which he’d left her standing alone on the dance floor.

She hadn’t seen him since.

“I’m going to hold you to that.” Eli stepped into what looked like a coffee shop. “But I’d still prefer it if you wouldn’t just talk to any of my teammates. It’s messing with my game.”

This time she couldn’t hold back an eye roll. “Really? You’re going to try and blame your crappy season and horrible stats on me? No, sir. I do not accept that responsibility.”

“My stats aren’t horrible,” he grumbled.

She bit her tongue. Literally.

Better than pointing out that his batting average had fallen to .180 and he had 8 errors this season.

The trade from the Braves to the Drillers has not been good for Eli.

“I’m sure your game is going to improve any day now.” She hoped so, anyway. “Just keep doing what the sports psychologist tells you.”

Someone knocked on the door—probably the lady who was moving in upstairs—and Verity stood. Mr. Roberts, Kat’s landlord, had asked if she could let the new tenant into the apartment since he had a family emergency and wouldn’t be home for her to pick up the key.

She crossed the room. “I have to go. Love you.”

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