Page 129 of Exes and Oh Hell No

I can’t live without him.

If he got arrested for killing someone… I close my eyes, cutting the thought off.

I give him a wooden smile, shaking my head.

“No murdering anyone.” I lean down, pressing my lips against his so he doesn’t have a chance to stare at my expression and figure out something’s wrong.

When I pull back, tears fill my eyes. “I love you so damn much, Ford.”

His chest hitches, and his hands lift, cupping my face. “I love you, Harper Brooks.” A slow smile curls his lips. “With every fucking piece of me.”

Part of me knows I should tell him what I think I saw… but the other part doesn’t want to spoil our moment.

Especially when I lift up, slide off his cock, and glance at that spot again.

Nothing.

It has to be my imagination.

But damn, those eyes reminded me too much of my past.

Of Jeffrey.

But that’s impossible, right?

How would he even know I’m here?

I cut off all contact after I ended things.

The stress of everything—both good and bad—must be getting to me.

The rock through my bedroom window, the break-in at my parents, a creepy man in a mask wandering around my childhood home, and planning a wedding to an obsessive, possessive as fuck hockey player in two weeks must be overloading my system.

Making me see things that aren’t there.

Yes, that has to be it.

Stress is hard on your body, whether it’s negative or positive.

I adjust my dress while Ford climbs out of the vehicle, tucking himself back in his pants.

His eyes are soft as he blows me a kiss, then looks around.

I freeze, waiting.

His eyes go to the spot where I saw the man, but he doesn’t react.

Instead, his gaze keeps moving.

He shuts the door, then whistles as he walks around to the driver’s side.

It had to be my imagination.

I’m seeing things when nothing is there.

The guys are standingin front of the inground pool, laughing and joking, while Allie and I sit by the fire pit, the blazing flames keeping us nice and toasty.

The blanket Ford draped over my shoulders helps.

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