Page 25 of Heart of Thorns

“I love my daughter,” he continues. “Do you understand?”

It’s like everything he’s saying suddenly presses in on me at once.

Wife. His daughter.Do you understand?It’s a phrase my father often employs when he wants to get his way. When he dictates my life with an iron fist.

I can’t breathe with the pressure of it all, and my gaze flicks around for an escape route.

Blue jersey.

An absolutely insane idea strikes me.

“Sir, I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I’m in a serious relationship.” The words are out before I can stop them.

His eyebrows hike. “You took my Cynthia out on a date while in a relationship?”

“My father set it up, sir. I had no idea she would see it as a date, and I apologize for that.”

He stares at me a beat. A flush crawls up his neck, but he doesn’t act on his emotions. If anything, all of that seems to drain away. He clears his throat and shakes his head, muttering something.

About a waste of time?

Mine’s been wasted, too. Over and over again.

“Well. Give my best to your parents.” He motions for his daughter, and they disappear into the crowd.

Okay. Okay, that’s fine.

Now I need to convince the girl with the heart of thorns to pretend to date me.

CHAPTER 9

BRIAR

Hockey is faster than football,but the game is still exhilarating. The crowd rushes the field after the win, a tidal wave of red flocking to the end zone. Marley tugs me to follow. I glance around, suddenly feeling guilty for wearing the other team’s colors, but IswearThorne saw me from the field and bristled.

I could be making that part up. But he’s the entire reason I did the stupid stunt to begin with—as if he’d even care if I was rooting against him.

The chants are so loud on the field, I can’t hear myself think. I glance around after Marley’s hand slips from mine. I search for blonde hair in between my peers but I come up empty-handed. My leg slows me down, and before I know it, I’m trapped. Shoulders rub against me from both sides. I move forward and trip into someone’s hard back, hitting my forehead on their spine.

I pop up quickly with loose strands of hair falling from my bun. Air leaves my lungs. There’s no way out. I spin three times before dizzying myself.

“Move,” I grit, bumping into an auburn-haired girl with a big red bow in her hair.

She shoots me a dirty look before brushing me off. I curse under my breath and turn to the left.

My eyes spark to life when I see the small opening between football players.

Go.

I rush over, ignoring the dead weight of my leg and squeeze in between their pads. They’re unforgiving. I hardly make it through without falling to my knees.

“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter.

A gasp escapes when pressure falls to my hips. Hands squeeze me, and I’m hoisted to my feet quickly. I turn and peer at whoever pulled me upright.

“I got ya,” he says.

“Thank y?—”

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