Page 49 of Never You

“Because I asked first.”

She stays quiet for a moment, staring onto the road as if she’s contemplating how much she wants to share. Giving me that same feeling I’ve always felt looking at her; there is more to her than she shows.

“Johnny is the brother I never had. He knows me best,” she starts, shrugging her shoulders while staring at the road with a vacant look.

“Have you always been close?”

“In a way, yes. He was only seventeen when I was born, and he was the youngest of three, so to him, I was his baby sister. When he got into UNC, he called me every other day and came home every chance he got to take me to the zoo or the park. Then he graduated, moved to LA, and I saw him less frequently, but he always made sure we stayed in touch. After—” She swallows her words. “In my teenage years, I was a bit of a troublemaker—”

“A troublemaker?” My ears quirk up, suddenly on high alert.

If she’s admitting there is a rebel inside of her, I’m dying to get it out of her.

Poke the bear a little.

“Pretty much,” she agrees. “I drove my family nuts. Still do sometimes, I guess.”

“How?”

“Different subject,hockey boy.” She dismisses the question. “At some point when… well, Johnny threw me into his car, and he drove us to LA, forcing me to work for the Knights. I hated him for it, but I also respected his motives. I ignored him for a few weeks, but eventually, we grew closer again.” I can hear her voice hitch when she sucks up her words, telling me there is something she doesn’t want to share. But I can’t help trying one more time.

“Are you gonna show me this side of you?” I wiggle my brows up and down.

She swats my arm in return. “Shut up. Your turn.”

“You know I’m gonna get back to this point eventually, don’t you?”

Having her admit something I’ve been seeing for ages triggers excitement inside of me. If she thinks her small disclosure of her rebel side will be enough for me, she’s wrong.

Now I want more.

Now I want to peel back the layers until I’ve found her.

Until I’ve found the real Rae.

“Oh, what a surprise!” Sarcasm hits my way, her brown eyes still glaring at me in defiance, though she doesn’t seem as annoyed with me anymore. “Not today, though, smartass. Now, stop dodging and answer the question!”

“What was the question again?” I tease.

“Jensen.” Her lips growl my name, making me blink at her in fake shock, anOforming on my lips as a flutter runs through me.

Her demanding expression grows my dick tight against my jeans, giving me a hard time keeping my face from tightening.

“Why do you think your mother hates you?” Her voice sounds soft like honey, and my relaxed mood is replaced by irritation, as I rub my face in frustration. My parents are never something I want to talk about, but the authenticity she gives me makes it hard to keep up my dick-ish stance.

“Right,” I mumble, not sure where to start. “Well, growing up in the public eye might make it seem like we have it all, but really, we are just a bunch of string puppets. We are supposed to behave a certain way.”

“Like how?”

“Say the right thing. Act the right way. Show we are a happy family, I guess?”

My family memories mostly contain events where we need to be on our best behavior, acting like model kids while my parents were chatting with important people who could help my father’s career as a politician. I hated it. My life felt boring and stale for as long as I remembered, and I took every chance I could to roam off, play outside, climb trees, or just get away from it all. Hockey saved me from dying of boredom.

“But you weren’t? A happy family, I mean?”

I shrug. “Not sure what a happy family is, but I hated it all. My mother was always busy organizing the next fundraiser, always too busy for us, and she hated it when I didn’t do what she expected me to. I was mostly raised by nannies.”

“I’m sorry, Jensen.”

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