Page 3 of Her Defiant Heart (Damaged Hearts 1)

“Um, sure?” Oh God. I do not want him to sit down. I don’t want to make small talk with Rhett Montgomery, not yet. I just wanted him to see me, catch a fleeting glimpse or maybe say something quick and then go about his night. Doesn’t he have a party to go to or a girl to bang?

“You said it like a question.” His brows are lowered, and he’s frowning at me. “If you want me to leave you alone, I will.”

Again with the serious tone. I believed him just now when he said that, even though I know I shouldn’t.

“No, you can stay.” I watch as he pulls the chair out and settles in, dropping his backpack at his feet.

“Why’d you leave the other night?” Rhett asks.

My gaze meets his once more, noting the sincerity in his gaze. He appears genuinely confused. I’m tempted to confess everything to him, but I keep my mouth shut.

“I didn’t want to stay there anymore,” I say with a little shrug.

“You got ditched, huh?” He lifts his brows, his handsome face now full of sympathy.

The very last thing I want is for him to feel sorry for me. “No, I didn’t get ditched,” I snap. I immediately regret how mean I sound.

“But the person you were supposed to meet that night never showed up. Right?” He’s almost scowling at me, he’s frowning so hard. I suddenly remember what I said to him that night. “Hot date that didn’t pan out, huh?”

“No,” I say quickly. Too quickly. God, just talking to him makes me feel defensive, and that’s not a good thing. Not at all. “I met him somewhere else.”

“Oh, really?”

His questions are making me uncomfortable. So are his good looks. His thick, dark brown hair, his brown eyes, his perfect face and perfect body and sexy voice and the way he’s watching me, leaning toward me like he might actually be interested.

I remind myself this is what I want. This is how I’m going to worm my way inside, by using Rhett. I should be okay with his attention, should be thrilled that it’s all happening so quickly.

But I’m not. I don’t know why. Maybe because this scares me. He scares me. You can plot and plan and think your way through all the scenarios, but when reality hits and you’re actually dealing with the person you’re going to use, it’s terrifying.

What if I screw up? What if he finds out my secret? Wha

t if he exposes me and ruins me forever?

I push those negative thoughts out of my mind and focus on the lie I’m about to tell him instead.

“I left the bar because I got tired of dealing with douchey frat guys,” I finally tell him, with as much disdain as I can muster. Which is a lot, by the offended expression on his face.

“So now I’m a douchey frat guy.”

I say nothing for a moment, and the wounded look on his face breaks me. “I’m not meaning you.”

“Good to know,” he says with a slight nod. He looks pleased with himself. “What’s your name?”

I’ve been waiting for this moment for months. I’ve even rehearsed saying it out loud to him, just to get used to hearing me say it. Though I’ve become desensitized, since I legally changed my name just before enrolling here and all my professors call me by my new name.

Yet I’m still not used to it. Besides, I chose this name for Rhett. Figured he might like it, that it sounds rich girl enough to appeal to him.

“Jensen.” My voice is small, smaller than I meant it to be. Just being in his presence makes me nervous.

The faint smile curving his full lips is irritatingly appealing. “Jensen,” he repeats, like he’s testing it out. “I knew a Jensen once.”

“You did?” Great. Some girl who probably blew his mind and blew his dick. I should’ve come up with a better name. But it was the closest to my actual name, and no way could I use that when I met him.

“Yeah, he was on the football team with me in high school. Jensen Graham. Big ol’ lineman, probably weighed close to two-twenty-five, maybe even two-fifty.” Rhett laughs, shakes his head. “We always called him Jenny just to piss him off.”

Relief floods me. It was a guy named Jensen, not some hot girl with glossy pink lips from his past.

“Did it?” When Rhett sends me a questioning look, I continue, “Piss him off?”

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