Emotion formed a thick, hard lump in her throat, and the back of her eyes burned.
She cupped his stubbly jaw. “This feels really real.” Rubbing her thumb over the bristles, she allowed a tear to fall down her cheek.
“I know,” he said, his words coming out choked.
“The more time I spend here—with you and Talia—the less eager I am to return to my old life. A life that will never be what it once was now that the world is learning about my past. Who my father is and what happened to my mother.” A stuttered breath fled her thinly parted lips. “I know my PR team is still probably doing their best to put a lid on things. But they’re not wizards. They can’t shut down the internet and stop everything. Information will get out. If not now, soon.”
There really was no reason to be upset with Rocco for telling Clint what happened all those years ago. Not when the media was all over it. Reporters and nosy Nellies had already started digging through all the old court files, splashing everything about Brooke—including her elementary school pictures—all over the internet. You couldn’t open social media without being inundated with tabloid articles about her wretched old life. Just because her team sent out cease and desist letters and had articles removed, didn’t mean much. Once the information was published, it took on a life of its own. Her PR team was no match for shares and reposts.
“Silver lining,” Clint started, “they’re not exactly painting your dad as a hero. Looks like chatting with the media shot him in the foot in the end.”
She exhaled and nodded, though it didn’t really feel like a silver lining, just a reminder that her father was in prison for killing her mother and the media was going to milk that cow until it ran dry. “Yeah. Silver lining.”
“Listen,” he said, spinning them so they were in the spoon position. He cradled her against him, wrapping a protective arm around her and tucking her butt right against his pelvis. He wasn’t hard, and even though she wanted this man possibly more than she’d ever wanted any man—particularly one she’d only just met—she was also mentally exhausted and her brain craved sleep. “You are welcome to stay here for as long as you need. Even when the world knows all about you again.”
The idea of her resurrection felt surreal and almost daunting at the moment. As soon as it was revealed she was alive, television stations and social media channels would be inundating her with requests for interviews. They’d all ask the same stupid arsenal of questions until her brain overheated and she actually died in front of Braxlyn from Celebrity Buzz.
“I’m not ready for the world to know I’m alive,” she whispered. “Now that my past is being unearthed—after I worked so hard to bury it—I can’t even bring myself to think about what my life is going to be like now. The family that is going to come out of the garbage pile, looking for some kind of book deal ...” Her gut spun. “We can try to sue them and stop them getting a book deal, but that won’t stop the information from getting out there. I’ll forever have the shadow of that part of my life hanging over my head now. My father killed my mother, and I was the one who put him away for it.”
“If the world doesn’t see you as brave and amazing, then fuck the world and burn it to the ground. I’ll get my fucking blow torch.”
No man had ever offered to burn the world to the ground for her before. No man had ever tried to protect her before, either. Well, except for Rocco.
“Can I ask you something?” he said softly, his thumb tracing mesmerizing circles across her hip bone.
“Hmm?”
“You said the other day that I wasn’t the first man to lose interest in you and I wouldn’t be the last. What did you mean by that?”
Her back expanded against his chest as she took in a big inhale. “I’ve been dumped a lot. Every boyfriend I’ve ever had has either dumped me or cheated on me. They just … lost interest. Grew bored of me and so when you …”
“Bolted like a fucking coward,” he croaked out.
“It hurt but it was also nothing new.”
“It opened up old wounds, though …”
“I guess.”
He encouraged her to roll over and face him. He swallowed hard and remorse filled his blue eyes. “I am so, so sorry, Brooke. For behaving the way I did. For opening up old wounds and triggers. And for all those other morons. I could never lose interest in you. You’re one of the most fascinating people I’ve ever met. So fucking strong and brave and brilliant.”
She closed her eyes for a long pause, allowing his words to sink in. But there were still a lot of resistant parts of her that refused to believe him.
“I don’t think they grew bored of you, though. I think you were too bright of a star for them.”
Her eyes opened, and she lifted a brow slightly.
“I’m serious. It might sound corny, and their actions were subconscious, but I bet they were jealous of you. Envious of your potential and strength.”
Exhaling, she pressed her lips together in a thin line. “Well, I don’t know about that, but thank you.”
“Only the weak of character could grow bored of you.”
“And that’s not you?”
“I might run from confrontation, but I’m working on that. You’re not someone I could ever lose interest in, though. And I mean that.”
She cupped his jaw again and smiled as hot tears pricked the back of her eyes. “I’m falling hard for you, Clint McEvoy. You’ve made it impossible for me not to.”