Page 71 of Secrets That We Keep (Forbidden Descendants 2)

Ooh! What if his sister was sneaking around with Mr. Draper?

As if reading the thought off my face, Gracen said, “What?”

I snapped my gaze to him, not about to share my theory. Brightening into an innocent grin, I lifted my mug. “Nothing. I only came here for coffee.”

“Oh.” He blinked, then stepped to the side, out of my path. “Shit, sorry. I’m blocking your way, aren’t I? I think Conner did brew some coffee. Smells like it, anyway. Here you go.”

“Thank you,” I told him as I stepped past. “But there was no need to rush. Today feels like a lazy, relaxed day, so I’m in no hurry.”

He frowned and drew in a slow breath as I brushed by, only to pause and tilt his head as something in my hair caught his notice.

“Do you have pink highlights?”

“What?” I blinked at the random question and lifted my hand to my blond locks. “Uh, yeah,” I answered hesitantly, pulling slightly back when he stepped forward to frown as he inspected them as if he was displeased by what he saw. “Why?” Then I paled. “Oh God. Is there a dress code against pink highlights?”

That would be just my luck.

“No. No dress code.” His eyes squinted tighter. “And there’s a few green as well, aren’t there?”

“Blue,” I corrected, then flushed and rolled my eyes. “They’re supposed to be blue, but they start to look green when they begin to wash out.”

“Wash out,” he repeated on a thoughtful murmur. This seemed to trouble him even more. “So you’ve had them a while?”

“Yeah. I guess. Why?” I repeated.

“Did you have them at the theater?”

I blinked, startled that he was going to even mention the theater. When I’d been introduced to him on my first day, one would think he had no memory of our two run-ins at the theater at all.

“I think so,” I said, only to come back around to, “Why? What’s wrong with them?”

“Nothing. They’re…” He fumbled for a word before settling with, “Nice. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I didn’t see them before,” he finally confessed as if that was a big problem.

“Probably because it was dark,” I allowed since he seemed so upset about not noticing my hair highlights.

“And you had your hair up both times,” he added softly.

I nodded. “Yeah. That too.”

“Hmm.” He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and shook his head before turning away as if to leave the breakroom.

“Do you have some kind of problem with colored hair?” I asked his departing back.

He paused and then turned around, leaning against the doorjamb as he took me in speculatively. “No. Not at all,” he finally said. “I just thought you were different is all. You came across a certain way. And now I learn that you’re not like that at all. And it just feels as if I’ve been…” He shrugged and glanced around the room. “I don’t know—deceived.”

“Deceived?” I frowned, thinking that was a mighty strong word for accidentally surprising someone with a new hair color. Unless he was talking about something else entirely, like the reason he’d grown so cold toward me. So I stepped toward him and baldly asked, “What exactly do you think I deceived you about?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled and turned away. “Forget I said anything.”

I caught his arm. “Hey. If you thought something about me and learned it wasn’t true, that’s your own fault for assuming. I never set out to deceive anyone.”

He hissed out a breath through his teeth and turned it into a groan before thumping his head back and against the doorjamb before reluctantly admitting, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Oh, I knew I was right. There was only one thing I hadn’t told him that might change his perception of me, but I seriously doubted it’d give him this kind of reaction.

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