Page 75 of Don't Let Me Fall (Don't Let Me 1)

“Then, you shouldn’t mind telling me.”

He looks down at the table and tucks his hands into his pockets, refusing to look at me while leaving my hands itching to pull him into a hug, though I have no idea why.

“I guess I felt like I didn’t deserve to be successful,” he grits out.

I shake my head, more confused than ever. “Why?”

So many emotions flash across his face. From resentment to discomfort, to defensiveness, to an overwhelming resignation breaking my heart. He leans closer and presses a soft kiss to my cheek.

“Thought you didn’t want complicated,” he reminds me with a teasing grin, his cocky mask pulled firmly into place.

Aaaand there it is—the proverbial door closing in my face.

“Guess I’m curious.” I rub my hands along my bare arms and fold them across my chest. “You’re a mysterious guy, Colt Thorne.”

“Not really.”

“Uh, yes,” I argue. “You can have anything you want––any future you want––if you went for it, and yet I can see you putting up barriers for yourself.”

He scoffs. “What barriers?”

I bite my lip to keep from blurting out a half dozen examples. Like the fact he quit hockey during his senior year even though he was made to be on the ice. I know because I Googled him after we first met. I saw a few ESPN spotlights but closed the browser quickly because I didn’t want to intrude on his private life. But still. It was a barrier. Something keeping him from having what I know he wanted.

Or maybe I could mention the barrier he put up when he moved as far away from his friends and his family as possible, then showing up with a chip on his shoulder and a shady excuse as to how he wound up back here when I know for a fact, graduating from college isn’t exactly on his to-do list.

Or I could always point out how he hit on the one girl who was off-limits when we first met because he knew I wouldn’t cheat on Logan. That right there was a barrier. Something to keep him from getting what he wanted. Me. Even if it was only physical.

But the most recent example involves a certain test, along with a certain grade I know isn’t accurate. Especially after studying with him today.

“Professor Buchanan contacted me last week,” I tell him. “Did you know? He mentioned you failed your last test when I know for a fact you understood the material. So, the question is, why? Why would you fail on purpose?”

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, realizing he’s been caught. “It’s not so simple, Sunshine.”

“Or maybe someone’s making it complicated,” I tease, but there’s an undertone in my words. A sense of worry. “Tell me this. What do you want to be when you grow up? You know, other than insanely good looking.”

He chuckles and rounds the edge of the table, approaching me. “I dunno. Why?”

“Because you’re smart. Talented. A hard worker.”

“And insanely good looking,” he reminds me with a smirk.

I snort and rise onto my tiptoes. “Obviously.” My lips press against his for a quick kiss. I pull away and add, “Which is why it doesn’t make any sense you’d fail your classes on purpose. The only person it hurts is yourself.”

He frowns, whatever amusement from two seconds ago disappearing. “Maybe I deserve to be hurt.”

My breath hitches, and I pull back. “Why would you say that?”

Clearing his throat, he rocks back on his heels. “Thanks again for today.”

“Colt––”

“Want to get together again tomorrow? For another study session?”

I wave my hand toward my closed laptop and textbook on the table beside us. “You already know the material, remember?”

“I think I could use a few more study sessions.”

I roll my eyes. “I think you’re full of crap.”

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