Page 117 of Never You

He parks my SUV between the trees, and we both get out.

The reflection of the sun shines on the water, as rays of sunshine push through the leaves of the trees. I suck in a breath of fresh air, then climb on the hood of my car like I’ve always done, taking in the calmness that surrounds me.

Jensen silently joins me, placing his body next to mine, our knees touching.

“It’s not necessarily my happy place,” I explain, his head twisting to look at me while he takes off his sunglasses. “But this is the place where I can order my thoughts. Where the world is quiet enough for me to process whatever life throws at me.”

“Like when your parents died?”

My head snaps toward him, searching his eyes in confusion. “You know?”

He nods, grabbing my knee before he starts to massage my leg in a gentle and comforting way. “Is that why you freeze every time you see an airplane?”

I let out a confirming hum.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His deep blue eyes bore into me like he’s searching for my soul, the tension almost making me stop breathing.

My eyes move back to the water. “I don’t know?”

I hold still, sucking in a deep breath. “Because I’m sick of being an orphan? Because for once I didn’t want that to overshadow everything I do.”

I can see my words hitting him in the chest as he swallows with a pained expression.

I know.

It’s raw.

But it’s honest.

When my parents died, I hated the world, and for the longest time, I’d cry myself to sleep wishing I died on that plane too. I love my family, and I will forever be grateful for everything theydid for me. How they took me in and treated me as their own. They are not them, though. They are not my parents, and it took me a long time to grasp that. But by that time, it was already too late. I was the rebel child, kicking and screaming through life, with whispers following me wherever I went.

Her parents died.

She is an orphan.

She is damaged.

She’s broken.

I heard them all, and when you hear them on a daily basis, you start to live up to them. I was fourteen when I found out alcohol could make those whispers go away, not because they weren’t there. But because I didn’t care when I drank. I couldn’t be bothered by anything, completely drowning in my fearless stance.

“Because people will expect less?” he asks, reminding me of his own words.

“Yeah.” He told me how he acted like an asshole because it kept people’s expectations low, making it that much easier.

I acted like an out-of-control brat because people didn’t have any expectations at all after my parents died. “After the crash, people always treated me like porcelain. Always trying to say the right thing, to motivate me with kind words. But I could feel the pity. They had already put me in thedamagedbox because that was easier for them. More convenient. It’s hard to be motivated when no one expects anything from you because of something that happens out of your control.”

I keep my eyes trained on the water, watching the ripples grow bigger and bigger every single time. Tears are pricking in the corners of my eyes, and I suck in a breath to push them away.

“Johnny saved me by pushing me into a job he knew I wasn’t ready for, and he expected the world from me.” I pause. “Without telling me, he showed that he believed in me. That Iwas more than just that orphan kid from Red Wood Creek High School.”

I can feel his fingers under my chin, and I close my eyes, not ready to see that same pity in his eyes, before he gently pulls my face toward him.

“Rae,” he rumbles in a soft yet demanding tone. I hum in response, still keeping my eyes shut. A hint of his freshness penetrates my nose, combined with the whiff of the pine trees around us. It smells safe, like home.

“Open your eyes, baby.” His breath fans my face, and I exhale softly, refusing to let my emotions out in front of him fully.

“Rae, open your eyes.”

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