Page 94 of Stuck with my Mountain Daddies

“Lucy.”

“She’s overwhelmed, Beckett. It’s personal. I’m not trying to be cagey, but… It’s not my story to tell.”

That didn’t ease a damn thing. If anything, it made it worse.

“Is she hurt?”

“No,” Lucy said quickly. “Not physically. But there’s more going on than she’s letting on. She’s scared. Upset. And…” She winced. “Well, it’s a lot, okay?”

My jaw clenched hard enough to ache. I didn’t say anything else. I nodded once and turned back toward my truck.

Lucy didn’t stop me. She knew she couldn’t. Whatever she was protecting, it wasn’t going to matter if Riley was falling apart.

I drove slower this time, eyes scanning every side street and parking lot as if I was tracking deer through the woods.

And then I saw her.

She was parked outside the diner, her car tucked into the farthest corner of the lot as if she didn’t want to be seen.

The engine was off, but she hadn’t moved. She sat there, staring through the windshield as if she didn’t recognize the world outside it anymore.

And then, her hand went up to her face.

At first, I thought she was brushing her hair back. But then her shoulders jerked.

She was crying.

My heart sank. I parked across the lot and climbed out, boots crunching softly on old snow and gravel.

I didn’t go right up to her window, didn’t want to spook her. I stood there for a second, watching her try to get a grip she clearly didn’t have.

She had one hand wrapped tight around the steering wheel. The other covered her mouth.

And her eyes, damn, her eyes were red-rimmed, glassy. Clearly, she’d been holding everything in for too long and finally couldn’t anymore.

I tapped once, gently, on the glass.

She flinched. Then turned her head.

The second she saw me, her face crumpled.

“Riley,” I breathed, already pulling the door open.

She didn’t fight me when I crouched beside her. Didn’t say anything, either. She just stared at me like she wasn’t sure I was real.

“I called them,” she rasped finally, voice barely holding together. “My parents.”

I didn’t say anything. Just waited.

Things were bad with her folks. Always had been. She’d told me all about it, so I could understand the tears.

“I don’t know why I did it, I never call them for this reason. But I wanted to speak to them.” Her laugh was bitter. “And all they cared about was how thescandalwas playing online. Not how I was doing. Not if I was okay.”

She wiped angrily at her cheeks, tears smudging into her sleeves.

“My mom said I embarrass her.”

Embarrass. Christ.

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