Page 38 of Don't Let Me Go (Don't Let Me 2)

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah.” He pops another cinnamon bear into his mouth.

I raise my brow. “The new me or the old me?”

His gaze softens as it bounces around my face while he chews slowly. Thoughtfully, if it’s even possible.

Who. Is. This. Guy?

“Just you,” he decides. “Whoever you want to be.”

My breath catches softly in my lungs, but I stay quiet.

Seriously. Who is this guy, and what has he done with the Theo I’ve known for the past four years?

I’m too caught in his stare to form a snarky response. Hypnotized almost. Like I’m in some sort of twisted reality. The one I dreamt about when I was in high school. The one I wished for every year on my birthday. Where Theo finally looked at me like I was more than Colt’s little sister. Like I was my own person. Like I was someone worth knowing. Worth seeing.

I don’t know what to do about it. About the situation, let alone the guy in front of me. Because he isn’t being a jerk at this moment. And I’m not sure my armor’s strong enough to battle Sweet Teddy when I’m so used to the asshole persona.

When he realizes I don’t know what to say, he clears his throat and announces, “So. Twenty questions.”

I blink and nibble on the cinnamon bear’s ear, forcing myself back to reality. But even the spicy goodness doesn’t bring any clarity, so I shake my head and ask, “Twenty questions?”

“Yeah. Let’s play.”

“Why?”

“So I can get to know the new Blake,” he answers as if it’s the most plausible thing in the whole world. “Favorite color?”

He can’t be serious.

My eyebrow arches as he stares back at me, patiently waiting for my answer.

He is.

He’s actually serious.

All right, Teddy Bear. I’ll play.

Letting my curiosity get the best of me, I settle further into the couch cushions and answer, “Green.”

“So, the same as the old Blake,” he jokes. “Noted.”

“You?” I counter, refusing to acknowledge how adorable he is when he’s teasing me.

“Purple.”

With a laugh, I repeat, “Purple?”

“Yeah. It’s a recent realization. Favorite animal?” he continues.

“Lioness.”

He quirks his brow. “Not lions in general?”

“Nope. Only the girls.”

“Well if that isn’t the most sexist thing I’ve ever heard.” His eyes crinkle at the corners as he waits for whatever asinine response he knows I have locked and loaded. And even though I know he’s egging me on, I take the bait without hesitation.

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