Page 4 of Her Defiant Heart (Damaged Hearts 1)

“Oh, yeah. He seriously hated it when we called him that.” The faraway look on Rhett’s face tells me he’s shifted into nostalgic mode.

“Sounds like you guys were kind of mean.”

“You know how it is. Locker room talk.” Rhett chuckles, but I don’t say anything and when he realizes I’m not laughing, he stops. “You didn’t ask what my name is.”

I probably just bruised his massive ego and I didn’t even mean to. “What’s your name?”

“Rhett.”

“Oh. Like Gone with the Wind?” I make a tiny face, as if I’m offended.

He winces. “Yeah. Tell me you’ve never watched that movie.”

“I’ve never watched that movie,” I say, my voice monotone. I’m lying. I’ve totally watched that movie. When I was a little girl, my father made me watch it, calling it a classic. I thought Scarlett O’Hara was a total bitch and Rhett Butler was funny-looking.

“Good.” He smiles again, his cheeks the faintest pink. He’s blushing? Damn it, I don’t want him to be appealing or cute. “My mother is from the south.”

“She named you?” We’re already talking about family and we barely know each other. I thought this guy was a jerk. King douche of the douches. But he’s being so nice right now. So…sincere.

I don’t get it.

“Yeah.” His tone is wistful, and I know why. His mother is dead, though I don’t want him to tell me that. I don’t want to feel sorry for him, but maybe he doesn’t want me to feel sorry for him either so he’s keeping that bit of information to himself.

“I should go.” Before he can say anything else, I grab my backpack from the floor and set it on the table, unzipping it and shoving my textbook inside. He stands when I stand, as if he’s going to walk me out of the library like some sort of gentleman, and I’m not prepared for that. Nice, handsome, seemingly wholesome boys who want to do right by me. It’s ridiculous, a myth, a fairytale in this harsh, cruel world. I know Rhett isn’t nice or wholesome.

There’s no way he can be.

“You live on campus?” he asks as we exit the library together. He even holds the door open for me, and I have to thank him because I’m not a complete bitch.

“No, I have my own place.” It’s a total shit-hole that’s drafty and cold and in a scary part of town, but it’s all mine.

“You parked out in the south lot?” When I glance up at him, he shrugs. “You probably shouldn’t be on campus this late at night by yourself. I’ll walk you to your car.”

There’s campus security who will escort you wherever you need to go—you just have to call or text. I guess Rhett wants to be my campus security tonight. “I don’t have a car.”

My dad’s car finally broke down for good right before he died, and I haven’t had one since.

“Do you walk home?” He asks way too many questions. Why can’t he just say good night and we go our separate ways?

“I take the bus.”

“I’ll walk you to the bus stop then,” he says, his words final, like I can’t argue with him.

So I don’t.

We walk side by side, him chatting me up, asking endless questions about school, what courses I take, how long have I been there. I give him vague answers, not asking anything in return. I pretty much already know everything about him, and any of those small, secret details he might reveal? He won’t share those yet.

Finding out his flaws, his worries, his fears, will only make him more human. That’s the last thing I want. I need to treat him like the bridge that will lead me to what I’m really looking for.

When I come to a pause at the bus stop, he glances around, his expression serious before his gaze meets mine. “It’s dark here.”

“I’ll be fine.” I shrug then smile, because I want him to leave. “Thanks for walking me.”

“I’m staying here until the bus arrives.”

“You really don’t have to—”

“I’m staying,” he says firmly, his gaze dark. “It’s not safe here.”

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