Page 119 of Faking It With the Small-Town Bad Boy

I wait patiently to see his response. He doesn’t let much slip,

furthering proof that this man is perhaps a magnificent poker player.

He just continues working on the little slivers of scratches on my

hands and grabs bandage tape from the zipper pouch next to wrap up

the cuts.

Staring out the kitchen window at the three-in-the-morning world

outside, I feel light.

“He mentioned my father and… I don’t know. I lost it.”

A light brush of my chin pulls my face down, and I find his honey

eyes melting into my own. “It’s okay. You can talk to me about it,

darling.”

I nod slowly, knowing that while that is true, I don’t know if I can

open that part of myself up again. I’ve done it once before, and it

broke me. I let Ryan get close to my father, and my mother, and now

they’re gone. But he’s still here, haunting me.

“Hey,” he says, his voice floating between us like a delicate moth in

the night. “You’re okay, Leah. I know it’s hard because he was around

and now your parents aren’t anymore, but you can talk to me. I lost

my parents. I know what it’s like. So if you do want to talk, I’m here.”

He’s so smooth with his voice, his words touching my heart and

pulling the cords so perfectly I nearly swoon right off this countertop

and into his arms. Nearly.

I’m still so afraid of this man who has proven he is nothing like Ryan

Jones.

The only difference is how I wanted Ryan, and then I had him.

Now I want Percy Elrod.

But can I really have him, or is this all for pretend?

At what point is it okay to let my heart yearn for something I’m not

permitted to have, and how long until I get bit in the ass because of

it?

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