Page 36 of Her Defiant Heart (Damaged Hearts 1)

“I swear, Rhett, I didn’t hear you knock. And I—” Hesitating, I scuff my feet on the sidewalk, feeling stupid. “I blocked your number so I wouldn’t text you back,” I admit, my voice low.

He’s frowning, like he can’t comprehend what I just told him. “Why didn’t you want to text me back?”

“I was, uh, I was going to leave. My—my grandma is not in the best of health, and no one else in the family wants to take care of her, so it’s up to me.” There. That’s a nice lie that won’t hurt his feelings. “I need to leave tonight, and I didn’t want to tell you.”

“Why didn’t you want to tell me?”

“More like I didn’t know how to tell you.” I’m messing this up, but are we really surprised? I don’t know how to have a normal relationship with a person. Don’t know how to start or maintain one either. “I really—liked you, and I didn’t even want to admit it to myself, because it couldn’t last. I’m not a permanent fixture here, Rhett. And that means I can’t be a permanent fixture in your life.”

He’s watching me, his gaze locked on my face, his expression so sincere, so earnest, it almost makes me want to cry. I prepare myself for what he’s about to say. I can tell it’s going to be something sweet and wonderful and his words are going to make me want to cave in and stay.

The last thing I should do is stay.

“Jensen.” He says my name like an endearment, and I can feel the tears stinging the corners of my eyes. “You should’ve told me all of this sooner.” He takes the vase from my hands and sets it on top of his car. In my despair to chase after him, I didn’t even notice we ended up standing right next to it. “I can help. Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

“You barely know me.” His hands feel so good when they gently clamp around my shoulders. Like he could pull me into him and offer up all his strength, all his warmth and I could absorb it. Feed off it. It’s so weird, but I instinctively know he’d take care of me, no matter what, and I don’t deserve so much faith. “Why do you even care?”

“I told you I want to get to know you better.” He hesitates, like he’s afraid to reveal more. But he takes a deep breath and forges on. “From the moment we first met, there was something about you. You intrigued me. You still do.”

I’m at a complete loss for words.

“Didn’t you feel the connection between us the other night? God.” He hauls me to him, holding me close, my face buried against the solid wall of his chest, and I breathe in his clean, fresh scent. It’s nothing like the cloying cologne Greg used. But Rhett still smells expensive, deliciously expensive, and thoughtful and caring and—

“Let me help you.” He slips his fingers beneath my chin, tilting my face up so I have no choice but to meet his earnest, hopeful gaze. His fingers are gentle, a complete contrast to the way Greg touched me. “Do you need a ride? I can take you to your grandma’s house. Whatever you need.”

“What? Oh.” I’d already forgotten my lie to him. Not smart. I need to keep better track. “Maybe someone else can take care of her after all. I don’t know.” My excuses sound weak, and I clamp my lips shut.

“Okay then.” His fingers fall away from my chin. His voice is slow, and he’s frowning at me. I’m sure I’ve confused him. No surprise, since I’m feeling pretty confused myself. “You want to come back to my place?”

“Huh?” He wants to take me back to his palace? Well, I don’t know if he lives in an actual palace while he’s in college, but I know he does when he’s home with the parentals. He used to belong to a frat and lived in the house, but he moved out the spring of his junior year.

How do I know this? Googling him—he mentioned those interesting facts on an Instagram post.

God, I’m awful.

“Jensen. Hey.” He pulls away from me, still holding onto my shoulders, and I’m thankful he’s keeping me in place. My knees are so shaky I’m afraid I could fall. “Are you all right?” He touches my cheek, tucks my hair behind my ear, his fingers so gentle. “You’re acting kinda weird.”

I am. I always am. Can’t he see it? I’m fake. Fake as my pleather couch, fake as the CZ earrings in my ears. Fake as the name that he calls me.

There’s nothing about me that’s real.

My stomach churns as I blink up at him, and I swear I’m seeing two Rhetts. Like he’s a twin egg that split in two. Does that even make sense? No, of course not.

“I, uh, I feel kinda…dizzy.” Fuzzy black dots fill my vision and I shake my head, but that only seems to make it worse.

“Damn, your lips are so white. Jensen, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Jensen? Jensen!”

I wake up to discover I’m sitting in the reclined passenger seat of Rhett’s car, a soft, gray fuzzy blanket draped over my lower half. I move my fingers, realizing my arms are under the blanket, and I wonder where it came from.

I also wonder why I care so much about the stupid blanket.

Closing my eyes, I slowly open them again, trying to bring everything back into focus, but it’s so dark. Last I remember, the sky was still light, though the sun was fading fast. How much time has passed? What happened to me? How did I get into Rhett’s car?

Maybe I should ask him and find out.

“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice hoarse. I clear my throat and rise up on my elbows, glancing around. His car is so nice, so expensive. The seats are real leather and butter-soft, while I’m a cheap imitation of a person.

“Oh, hey. You’re awake.” He smiles over at me, then flicks his chin toward the center console. “There’s a bottle of water in there. Hope you don’t mind that I took it out of your bag. And if you want to lift the seat up, there’s a button you can hit on the base of the seat on the right side.”

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