Page 169 of Tell Me Something True

“Sorry,” she said breathlessly as she reached for something on the floor in front of her. “I have to check this.”

And she straightened with her phone in her hand, making him realize that while he was lost to anything and everything that wasn’t her—the taste of her kiss, the feel of her skin, the scent of her perfume—she’d remained cognizant enough to hear her phone ringing.

Talk about an ego killer.

But then he noticed her eyes were glazed and her face flushed, that she blinked several times staring at her phone as if trying to remember not only why she’d picked it up, but how it worked.

He shifted and sat up, trying to find a more comfortable position, one that would accommodate his raging hard-on, when Tabitha spoke.

“It’s Verity.”

His boner deflated just like that.

“You gave her your number?”

She shrugged. “She asked for it. And I like Verity. Plus, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but she doesn’t exactly take no for an answer.”

“I’ve noticed.”

He and his brothers had always taught her to go after what she wanted, no holds barred. To stand up for herself and others when the situation was warranted. To not back down.

That had come back to bite them in their asses.

The phone stopped ringing and they both sighed in relief.

Only to have it start ringing again almost immediately.

And his phone buzzed. And buzzed.

And buzzed.

His fucking family.

“You don’t have to answer that,” he told Tabitha. “She probably just wants to know when we’re going to be there.”

She frowned. “Are you sure?”

He nodded and after a moment, she put the phone back in her purse, then turned in her seat to face him. “Are you okay to drive?”

“I’m good.” The panic, while not completely gone, was controlled enough that his thoughts were clear.

But he couldn’t take her home to meet his family. Not yet.

Not with so much left unsaid between them.

“I should have invited you home with me,” he admitted quietly. Hoping it wasn’t too late to tell her one of the many things he should have said ten years ago. “When we were together before. I should have told my family about us. About you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

A dozen excuses ran through his head. Each one valid. Each one reasonable. Each one real in a way.

But only one was the truth.

“I was selfish.” He leaned his head back against the seat. Stared out through the windshield. “Everything was so fucked up. My parents were dead and Urban had to quit school to take care of the rest of us. Toby helped out as much as he could, but he was still a kid, too, and Silas was struggling, getting into trouble, acting out. Eli was going through puberty and Verity was practically a baby. And I wasn’t there to help.” He let out a long breath, one he felt like he’d been holding for ten years. “I didn’t want to be there.”

He hadn’t wanted the responsibility of taking care of anyone else but himself. Had wanted a break from unrelenting grief and sense of loss.

“And I knew,” he continued, “if I told my brothers about you, if I brought you home with me, I’d feel guilty. And I didn’t want to.”

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