Page 80 of Daring the Defender

And there it is. She never supported my goals and dreams. She was just wasting everyone's time. I stand, pushing my chair back and grabbing my trash. I look down at her. “Here’s the thing. It hurt when you dumped me, not because we were over but because I realized I let myself get fooled into believing you wanted the same thing that I did. I was honest with you. I told you what I wanted for my future, and you played along, all the way down to designing a goddamn ring. And it turns out you never wanted it. You never even wanted me. That all of it was just some kind of game. That’s next level crazy.”

Instead of acknowledging this she just shoots back in a patronizing tone, “Reid, there’s a girl out there for you. Someone who wants the same thing you do, it may just take a while.”

From the corner of my eye, I notice someone coming our direction, then double-take when I see that it’s Shelby. Her gaze darts to Darla, and there’s a beat where I’m unsure of what is about to happen. That is, until Shelby shifts her focus back on me and gives me a slow, sweet grin.

“Hey, babe.” She walks right up to me and presses a warm kiss against my throat before curling into my side.

“Hey,” I blink, then instinctively wrap my arm around her, pulling her tight, “beautiful.”

“Sorry I got held up. The Manor was a mess after last night.” Her hand flattens on my stomach, fingers curling into my sweater. A ripple of warmth spreads from the touchpoint. “You been waiting long?”

“Nope, just finishing up.”

“Hi,” Darla says, standing. “I’m Darla.”

“Nice to meet you.” Shelby grins politely. “I’m GG.”

If my mind is blown right now, then Darla’s is in full nuclear meltdown. My ex stares at us in disbelief, her eyes narrowingslightly as she tries to place her. She may sense the familiarity, but her irritation of… what? Me being happy? Me having someone in my life? Me moving on? Seems to have disrupted her narrative of what is going on in my life.

“GG,” she repeats. “Well, that’s cute.”

“A nickname,” Shelby says, grinning up at me, like we share a secret.

“I’m glad you’re doing better,” Darla says, not sounding glad in the least. For someone very over me she sounds a little annoyed. “Good luck.”

I don’t wish it back, instead letting her walk away while I focus on the girl glued to my side.

“That,” I say, once Darla is out of earshot, “was very impressive.”

“What was?” she asks innocently, still glued to my side. There are people milling around us, most paying no attention, but I know my status on campus. Someone will notice, and I hate to say it, but I don’t give a fuck.

“Rolling up on me like a badass, being possessive and slightly petty. That’s next level. I’m not even sure Nadia could execute a scene like that with such skill.” I run my hand up and down her back. “Where did you learn that?”

“You forget where I grew up,” she says, accent sweet as honey. “And there’s no one better at being passive aggressive while staking our claim than a southern church lady.”

24

Shelby

If I thoughtI could just pretend like the deadline for returning home wasn’t fast approaching, I woefully underestimated my mother’s persistence. Out of patience with my need for space and time, she’s been calling every day, usually more than once. There’s no discussion, just a reminder of my flight the next Saturday, the engagement party the following week, and the many details that need to be addressed the instant I get off the plane. Never mind the unpleasant fact I’d broken up with David. This was just a minor inconvenience that would resolve itself. After all, a promise is a promise.

I don’t know if it was her doing or if David sensed some disturbance in the universe when Reid and I had sex, because after weeks of not hearing from him, he called as well. His message was long and rambling, with a quasi non-apology.

Too bad I’ve been too busy floating on an orgasm induced high to respond.

In fact, I blame the most recent one, provided by Reid’s tongue in room one-ten, for fogging my brain so much thatI answer the phone on my way to the Badger Den without checking the name on the screen.

“Shelly-bean!”

“Daddy?” My father’s voice is a shock. He usually leaves the phone harassment to my mother due to his busy schedule.

“You’re a hard girl to catch,” he says, going straight for the guilt.

“I’ve been busy.” I take a deep breath and steady myself. “I have a job.”

“I’ve heard.” The disapproval is noted. “A waitress in a sports bar?”

“Hockey primarily. They’re very supportive of the team.” I step around a pothole filled with dirty rainwater. “Axel knows the owner,” I add, which I know in my father’s eyes doesn’t mean much. “But they serve good food. It’s a nice place.”

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