Page 88 of Never Your Girl

“What? I’m just saying, he’s… interesting.” His lips twitch, and I know he’s trying not to laugh.

“He’s not her usual type,” I admit, peeking through my fingers. “But she seems to really like him, so what can I do?”

“Try to talk her out of it?” he suggests, his smile widening.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’ll go over well. She’s not exactly the listening type.”

He leans back, studying me with those piercing gray eyes that seem to see more than I want them to. “Seems like you’ve been looking out for her a long time.”

The comment catches me off guard, and I blink. “Someone has to.”

His jaw tightens, and he nods in understanding, which somehow makes it worse. The last thing I need is his pity.

Even though it’s not a conscious decision, my muscles tense and I brace for the worst.

Instead, he surprises me.

“It’s a lot to carry,” he murmurs. “I hate that you’ve had to do it alone all these years.”

I don’t know what to say to that.

The sincerity filling his voice is almost too much for me to take.

I look down at my water bottle, twisting the cap back and forth. “It’s not like I had a choice in the matter.”

“You always have a choice,” he says, his voice firm. “Let someone help you for once.”

“There’s never been anyone else to lean on. I wouldn’t even know how.”

“Well,” he says, a teasing note creeping back into his tone, “maybe we should practice. I promise that it’s not as difficult as you think it is.”

My throat tightens, and I shake my head. “The last time I trusted someone to help, they walked away. It’s easier to handle everything by myself.”

“Life doesn’t have to be a battle you fight alone, Holland.” He searches my eyes. “Sometimes letting someone else take control can be a relief.”

“Sure, I’ll just give it all over to you.”

He grins. “Hmmm. I like the sound of that.”

I roll my eyes, but the corner of my mouth quirks up despite myself.

The room feels lighter now, the tension of the previous few hours easing. He gets up and moves to the bed before sitting beside me. His shoulder brushes against mine and his warmth seeps through the fabric of my shirt.

“Can I ask you something?” he says, his voice quieter now.

“Sure.”

“What’s it like?” He tilts his head. “Dancing.”

The sudden change in topic surprises me. “You mean at the club?”

He nods, his gaze steady. “Yeah. You seem so in control up there. Like nothing can touch you.”

I let out a short laugh and shake my head. “It’s all an act. A really good one.”

“That’s funny, because it doesn’t look like an act. It looks like you’re owning it. Like you’re unattainable.”

I chew my lower lip as my fingers twist in my lap. “Maybe that’s part of the reason why I do it. For those few minutes, I feel powerful. More in control than at any other time.” There’s a pause as I think about it. “But it’s not real.”

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