Page 15 of Never Your Girl

Some of the humor that’s always present in his eyes fades, only to be replaced by solemnness.

It’s a scary look on him.

“I love her,” he says simply. “And one day, I’m going to marry the girl.”

My eyes widen. “Wow.”

“Yup.” The seriousness melts away as he flashes another grin. “All right, man. I’m going to take off.”

And then Hayes is gone, jogging to his Ford Bronco. The truck is a throwback from the nineties, but he loves it. Even when he can afford a brand-new vehicle, it’s doubtful he’ll ever get rid of it.

With a huffed-out breath, I head to the library to meet up with Holland. Even thinking about the green-eyed, auburn-haired girl pisses me off.

All right, so maybe it does a little more than that.

For two years, she’s been an itch I haven’t been able to scratch. An unexpected closeness sprung up between us. One I found myself gravitating to as much as I wanted to run away from it.

By the time I reach the library, the need to see her thrums through me like that of a steady drumbeat.

As much as I want her to confess that she’s the one behind the messages, I want her to admit that I’m not the only one haunted by what happened between us.

5

Holland

ColdAsIce17

Hey, just wanted to say... I get it. Feeling like you’re carrying too much and everyone expects you to keep it together even though you’re barely holding on. Just remember, you don’t have to be perfect for everyone else. Certainly not me.

I read over the message again, letting the words sink into my bones. It’s almost eerie how Ice knows exactly what to say, how he sees straight through my carefully constructed walls to the mess underneath. I’ve never experienced this kind of understanding with anyone else.

Not even Willow.

Most days I feel adrift, like I don’t quite fit anywhere. The weight of responsibility has been crushing me for so long, I’ve almost forgotten what it feels like to breathe freely.

My fingers hover over the screen to reply when a shadow falls across my table. I look up to find Bridger Sanderson looming over me, and just like that, the peace from Ice’s message evaporates.

He drops into the chair across from me without a word.

When my stomach dips, I tell myself it’s irritation and not the lingering attraction I can’t seem to kill. I slip my phone into my bag, trying to ignore how his eyes track the movement.

“Who were you texting?” The question comes out sharp, almost possessive.

“That would be none of your business.” I shove the phone deeper into my bag. “Can we just get started? The sooner we hash this out, the quicker I can move on with my life.”

His lips twitch as his gaze lingers on my bag for a beat longer before he nods. “Fine by me, Tate. Not like I’m any more thrilled to be partnered up with you.” He leans back in his chair and folds his arms over his broad chest. “Just to be clear, if you think I’m going to get stuck doing all the work, you’re delusional.”

Barely do I resist the urge to bare my teeth and leap across the table at him. “Let me get this straight. You actually think I’d rely on you for my grade? I’d rather chew broken glass than take that risk.”

His eyes darken before the corners of his mouth lift into something that almost resembles a smile, and for a second, I forget why I can’t stand him. Until he looks at me with that infuriatingly smug expression and I’m reminded of the reason.

With a huff, I flip open my laptop and bring up the assignment details.

“Abbott wants a mock business pitch,” I say. “We’ve got two weeks to come up with an original concept, research the market, and put together a full financial plan.”

I reluctantly glance up only to find him watching me. When our eyes collide, a shiver dances down my spine.

“As usual, I’m way ahead of you, Tate. I read over the rubric and already have a list of potential ideas.”

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