Page 35 of Never You

“Fucking hell, Rae.” He blinks, his lashes fluttering as if he has a hard time letting go of my words. “Let’s not go there. No, I’m talking aboutyou!”

“I don’t follow.”

He takes another strand of my blonde hair between his fingers, gently tugging.

“For the last five years, I knew there was more to you than the pretty blonde in a pencil skirt,” he explains, his lips now only a few inches from my face.

The warmth of his breath makes it almost impossible to concentrate as I’m being consumed by his demanding energy. My brain has a hard time processing his words, but the few brain cells I have left seem to take on the job of keeping up my indifference.

“You know what a pencil skirt is?” I joke, trying to break the tension.

“I know there is more than the uptight piece of work that you are,” he goes on, undisturbed. “I’ve been dying to peel every single layer off you until the real Rae Stafford finally shows her true colors.”

“Who says this isn’t exactly who I am?”

“Nah-ah. I can see it. There is a spark in your eyes that you’ve tucked away, deep. But I’m gonna find it, Rae. I’m gonna find the real you. You can’t hide behind professionality anymore.”

I bite my lip, feeling exposed. “Is that a threat?”

The features on his face ease a bit before he whirs, “I’m too smart to threaten a girl who throws punches like you do. Besides, you can just show me who she is.”

I let out a loud laugh, and when he does the same, the tension simmers down a little bit. We grow quiet, and I love how he hasn’t tried to piss me off in the last hour.

“My turn.” I beam.

“Your turn? I didn’t know we were taking turns,” he bellows, incredulous.

“We are,hockey boy. Why are you turning your phone off?”

His eyebrows move to his hairline before rubbing his face.

“Does it matter?” he grunts.

“I’m curious.” I shrug. “Who are you avoiding? Emily?”

“Emily.Right.” His gaze turns glossy, as his thoughts seem to drag him under.

The man turns into a lone teenager in front of my eyes, the worried look on his face hurts my heart and confuses me at the same time.

What don’t I know?

“Come on. Tell me,” I press, gently poking my finger in his belly to snap him out of his own head.

He locks his eyes with mine; they’re laced with something I can’t decipher.

Hurt? Pain? Disappointment? Discouragement?

“My mother. Who wants to talk about Emily. Or, actually, scold me about it.”

“Why?”

I know we can’t all worship our mothers like I do, but avoiding them seems a bit harsh. Even for Jensen. From what I’ve seen, his family is pretty united. His parents support his profession, even though I’m sure it’s not the best job for a politician’s son, and I know they attend a few games every now and then.

“I promised her I’d stay with Emily until my dad was elected. You know, keep up the happy family picture. Now, she broke up with me while my mother was pushing me toward proposing.”

Proposing?!

My eyes widen at that piece of information and I swallow to push away the unsettling sense it’s bringing me.

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