Page 46 of If Our Hearts Collide

I slowly open my eyes to find Collins kneeling at my side, my hand still in his. Tears drip out, and I move my head to get my shirt to capture some of the excess off my cheeks. I take a few deep breaths, allowing the stress to detach from my brain and melt away.

Mark Tanner can’t hurt me anymore.

And while his influence on my life hasn’t fully gone away—and maybe never will—I no longer need to keep living in the shadow of his evilness. I can choose to push forward.

“Penny, you can talk to me.”

“No, I can’t.”

Collins’s eyes twitch. “Yes, you can.” He sounds offended.

I mean, what does he expect?

“Everything that has happened thus far will get passed along to my brothers. I have no one to confide in where they won’t find out. And while I do trust Angie and Claire, I don’t need to put them in a position to withhold the truth. So, no. I don’t have anyone to talk to. No one.”

Collins’s eyes confirm my fears. This is why I need a friend. Someone neutral and not obligated to walk on eggshells around me.

After several long minutes, he clears his throat. Then he places the ponytail band I must have dropped in the hall that started this whole emotional shitstorm into the palm of my hand. “I won’t say anything.”

“And why should I believe you?”

“Because I’ve been looking out for your best interests all along. Besides, my position is not to be a middleman.”

“Well then, what is your position?”

Collins stands, pacing in front of me. “We really need to have a conversation. But not here. We need to go someplace private.”

“That seems silly.” I watch as he stops moving to look at me. “You hate talking.”

I see a smirk play on his lips, and it does something to me in the pit of my stomach. At one time I thought Collins was incapable of showing any facial expressions, as if he was pumped up with Botox or just physically unable. Now, I see that he is just selective with his emotional expressions. So when he offers me one, I am tempted to savor it and commit it to memory.

My breathing settles as I recall our earlier discussion. It’s not that I forgot, but I guess I wasn’t expecting Collins to be waiting around for me while I toured Plus None. Doesn’t he ever get bored?

I start to stand and move past him.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to use the restroom.” Now that I’m no longer in an equilibrium state, I feel a bit raw and vulnerable in front of him.

He nods, sucking in a breath. “I’ll be here waiting.”

“No doubt,” I mumble.

I turn and rush into the ladies’ room, feeling the sweat beading on my face. What is wrong with me?

I’m being silly.

This is how I react when any guy gives me a little attention—albeit completely platonic. I act silly. Awkward.

I finish up and wash my hands in the sink. I dab a clean paper towel on my cheeks, trying to tone down some of the blotchiness from my skin. I look like I just went for a jog.

Dammit.

Giving up hope, I toss the crumbled-up paper towel into the trash and exit back into the hallway, where I find Collins at his post like a perfect soldier.

“Ready to go?” he asks, eyeing me with suspicion.

Stop looking at me. I’m fine.“Yes, sir.” As soon as the words register to his ears, his eyes twitch and the rare smirk is playing on his lips once again. Shit. This isn’t helping. “Where are we going?” I quickly ask, trying to change the subject.

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