Page 3 of Keep Me

“If I’d seen a ghost, I would’ve screamed, and that would’ve been interesting. I put heavy metal singers to shame,” I attempt to put some humor into my words, but it falls flat.

He just stares at me, his dark blue eyes bouncing back and forth between mine, like he’s trying to see through them.

“I know we don’t know each other, but if something happened to you—” he starts, but I cut him off.

“Exactly. We don’t know each other, so it’s none of your business.” My voice is curt, more than I intended it to be.

Ryker’s scowl deepens, his chest heaving a deep breath as he looks up at the sky. He clearly doesn’t like my answer, but it’s the truth.

We don’t know each other. I don’t need to go spilling my demons to him.

But my heart tells me to lighten up a bit because it’s not in my nature to be sassy like that. I step forward and place my hand on his forearm. “Hey, look at me,” I order, using the confident and direct tone I was raised to speak in. I may be Camille Blanchette here, but Maribel De Pont is hard to get rid of.

Ryker’s eyes meet mine, looking down at my manicured nails on his tattooed arm. I remove my hand, noting how the brief contact made warmth unfurl in my belly.

“I’m okay. You don’t even know my name anyway, so let it go and go enjoy your night.”

His brows pinch together, and it’s then that I wonder if I’ll ever see him doing something other than frown at me. “I know your name, Camille.”

Oh.

He knows my name. But how? I was sure I remained invisible to him for the past three years.

“Must be a lucky guess,” I say with a grin.

He shakes his head, his eyes roaming over my face. “The gala last year. Jasmine introduced you.”

“That’s right, I remember seeing you briefly. I only knew who you were because of baseball. I work for the school’s paper and I cover the girls’ teams. I also love baseball in general, so obviously I know of both the men’s and women’s team’s players,” I ramble, something I never, ever do. It’s that damn crush making me talk faster than an auctioneer and spill more than I need to.

“You like baseball, princess?” His eyes lighten, but his lips remain in a tight line.

My stomach threatens to bottom out. Princess? Where did that come from? There’s no way he could know…right?

“Princess?” I balk, taking a step back from him.

“You just don’t seem like the kind of girl who likes baseball, that’s all,” he grunts, eyeing my outfit.

“And you don’t seem like the kind of guy who smiles much.”

“You’re not wrong.” He shrugs and blows out a breath. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I already was okay. I just needed a minute to clear my head outside. You can’t take the sunshine out of this girl.” I smile, feeling that part of myself coming back to life. Whenever I get triggered, it fades, but it always comes back.

I expect to elicit a smile out of him, but I’m rewarded with another grunt instead.

“Good.” Then he digs into his jeans, and a beep sounds from behind me.

I turn to see a sport bike at the curb, an all-black beauty. Seriously? Does he also need to drive that? How much hotter can he get? I’m already feeling warmer than is normal in the middle of October.

He takes his key to the back end, then lifts it to retrieve his helmet. As I eye him, I find myself reeling with envy. I want the rush of riding on the back of his bike, feeling the wind around us as we drive through the winding roads near the mountains.

Ryker walks back over to me, and for a second, I think he’s going to offer me a ride, but my hopes deflate the minute he opens his mouth.

“Are you good to walk back in there with your friends?”

“Yeah, go. Thank you for helping me,” I say, my voice smaller than I’d like. I turn on my heel, not giving him time to see the disappointment in my eyes that shouldn’t be there in the first place.

“Princess,” he calls out, stopping me in my tracks.

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