Page 24 of My Pucking Valentine

“You’re him, right? The guy with his…”

I almost roll my eyes at her question, but I decide against it. “She’s my stepsister,” I state. “We didn’t grow up together. I only met her a few years ago.”

“Oh,” she whispers. “Really?”

“Really.” I nod with my confirmation, then wave at her and call out a thanks.

“I’m really sorry then that things have gotten crazy.”

My lips twitch into a smirk. “Yeah,” I murmur. “Me too.”

I leave the flower shop but don’t get into my car. Instead, I walk down the street toward another store. While I walk, I think about the flower shop girl’s words. She’s sorry things have gotten so crazy. I said that I was, too, but am I?

Am I really sorry?

I’m not. I’m glad it’s all out. I wasn’t sure what the fuck we were when we started. I was focusing on my career, which has always been the main focus of my life. We started out as nothing more than some fun in our free time.

It was nothing serious.

It was just scratches to itch.

But then it turned into so much more, and by the time it did, neither of us knew how to approach it with our families, which obviously would have been a fucking mess judging by the way it went down when we were exposed.

Sure, I could have lost my career, and so could Clara. I know it would have been a lot less painful for everyone involved if we had just admitted we were together months ago rather than the way it went down.

But I’m not sorry it’s finally all out in the open now. It should have always been in the open. We have done nothing wrong. Clara should have never been a secret and should have never felt like one, either.

The reality is that it became easier all the way around to keep things as they were, regardless of our feelings toward one another.

When I walk into the jewelry store, all thoughts of secrets vanish as the bright lights hit me. I’m greeted by three people from behind the counter, but I know where I’m going. I head straight for the rings.

She may think that we’re over, but I have news for her.

Big fucking news.

I didn’t get my place on the Cleveland Vortex by lying down and taking whatever was handed to me. Luke Sullivan is a fucking fighter. And I know exactly who and what I’m fighting for, and that’s Clara.

TWENTY-TWO

CLARA

I spendthe rest of the day crying alone in my bedroom. Honestly, I don’t know what else to do at this point. I’ve broken up with Luke, my mom is pissed at me, everyone thinks I’m disgusting, and I’ve been regaled to online teaching because there’s less of a chance that people will complain about me in the classroom that way.

It seems as if my life is completely in shambles. I know it’s not, not really, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that I am, without a doubt, disappointed in the turn of events and in myself for not doing things differently.

I’m not sure what I would have done differently, but it would have been something other than the absolute chaos that happened. There is a knock on my bedroom door, and I throw my legs over the side of the bed, letting out a huff.

I’ve never spent so much time in my room as I have the past few days. I need to get out and get some fresh air, maybe get an iced coffee, and just breathe for a little bit. I’m tired of being alone with my thoughts and feeling sorry for myself.

“There are a few packages for you,” Sarah’s voice calls out on the other side of the door.

Frowning, I reach for the handle and open the door, knowing that I don’t have any expected deliveries. Granted, I love shopping online, especially as retail therapy, but I haven’t felt like it since the Valentine’s Day fiasco.

“What could it possibly be?” I ask as my gaze finds hers.

She rolls her eyes to the ceiling, then lets out a snort. “Girl, did you think that man was really going to walk out of your life so easily?”

Brushing past her, I gasp at the sight of the dozens of red roses on the kitchen counter. I don’t know how many are in the oversized vase, but I’ve never seen anything so stunning in my life.

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