a crappy experience. Let’s roast another marshmallow.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t make light of this. We were alone countless times. I could’ve—“
“What?” She launched to her feet. “You could’ve what? Held my hand? Patted my hair? Looked at me with pity in your eyes, like you’re doing right now?”
My hands clenched. “I’m your friend, darlin’. I care about you. I’d do anything for you. So pity is not conceivable. Concern, guilt, regret, empathy...but one thing no one should ever feel for you is pity. You’re strong and smart. But you didn’t have to be alone in this.”
“I was embarrassed, okay?” She covered her face as if she hadn’t meant the admission. Scrubbed her hands like she was trying to erase the past five minutes. Or the past twelve years.
That was the last straw.
I strode over, wrapped my arms around her, and held her to me as tightly as humanly possible without snapping her in half. I cupped the back of her head, pressing her face to my shoulder. Her arms came around my waist and her hands fisted my shirt. I couldn’t tell which one of us was shaking, perhaps both, but having her against me tampered the anger simmering, the gutting pain for the girl she’d been. I kissed her hair, breathed in her shampoo scent, and closed my eyes.
After who knew how long—days, years—she sighed. “He was just a stupid boy. He didn’t break me.”
I don’t know who she was trying to convince. And maybe this prick hadn’t broken her, but he’d left a scar. One she’d slowly developed into a wall to protect. The way she’d lived her life proved she still believed the shit he’d told her, otherwise she wouldn’t flitter from one relationship to the next like a demented butterfly.
“Where can I find this asshole now so I can beat the shit out of him?” Putting him in traction for the next decade sounded ideal. One call to Ian and Rick, and they’d be down here in a blink, too.
Her arms clenched around me as if to say thanks. “He got fat after high school and moved to Florida. You did punch him once, if it makes you feel better.”
I lifted my head to look down at her. “Say what?”
She nodded.
Gazing over her shoulder, I shoved memories aside in my mind, trying to recall...Wait. “That douche bag at the ice cream shop? Our first summer?”
“Yep. Besides Grampy, you were the first person to ever defend me. Swoon, Matt.”
I laughed, but it was ragged. Pure suspicion here, but something told me few had defended her since. And if memory served, Ian had landed a couple punches that day, too. “I should’ve hit him a few trillion more times.”
She patted my chest with a placating grin. “My hero. Now, I’m going upstairs to bed. This guy made me go shopping all damn day, then paint his living room. I’m wiped.”
God help me, she could unravel a person in seconds. Smiling, I wiped away the smudge of paint under her jaw. “Goodnight.”
Slipping out of my arms, she turned for the patio door. “And we will never speak of this again.”
Before she’d completely disappeared, I called her name, and she turned. “I meant what I said. You’re not alone.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Matt
July—Two Years Ago
S till shocked at my behavior, I followed Cara’s directions to the pier and parked my car. She’d said very little since we’d left the nightclub together, and it was wringing my nerves raw. I was a bit of a good guy, a safe bet. Ergo, I’d never associated with the likes of a woman resembling Cara. I’d been instantly attracted to her and still didn’t know why.
Without a word, she climbed out of the car and headed toward the dunes. I followed, stepping under the stairs to the massive pier jutting out at least two hundred feet into the ocean. I’d never been down this way, but by the look of it, the pier was used by fisherman. This area was relatively deserted. No one wandered the beach. A few restaurants dotted both directions, but they were closed
“Don’t do that. Don’t make light of this. We were alone countless times. I could’ve—“
“What?” She launched to her feet. “You could’ve what? Held my hand? Patted my hair? Looked at me with pity in your eyes, like you’re doing right now?”
My hands clenched. “I’m your friend, darlin’. I care about you. I’d do anything for you. So pity is not conceivable. Concern, guilt, regret, empathy...but one thing no one should ever feel for you is pity. You’re strong and smart. But you didn’t have to be alone in this.”
“I was embarrassed, okay?” She covered her face as if she hadn’t meant the admission. Scrubbed her hands like she was trying to erase the past five minutes. Or the past twelve years.
That was the last straw.
I strode over, wrapped my arms around her, and held her to me as tightly as humanly possible without snapping her in half. I cupped the back of her head, pressing her face to my shoulder. Her arms came around my waist and her hands fisted my shirt. I couldn’t tell which one of us was shaking, perhaps both, but having her against me tampered the anger simmering, the gutting pain for the girl she’d been. I kissed her hair, breathed in her shampoo scent, and closed my eyes.
After who knew how long—days, years—she sighed. “He was just a stupid boy. He didn’t break me.”
I don’t know who she was trying to convince. And maybe this prick hadn’t broken her, but he’d left a scar. One she’d slowly developed into a wall to protect. The way she’d lived her life proved she still believed the shit he’d told her, otherwise she wouldn’t flitter from one relationship to the next like a demented butterfly.
“Where can I find this asshole now so I can beat the shit out of him?” Putting him in traction for the next decade sounded ideal. One call to Ian and Rick, and they’d be down here in a blink, too.
Her arms clenched around me as if to say thanks. “He got fat after high school and moved to Florida. You did punch him once, if it makes you feel better.”
I lifted my head to look down at her. “Say what?”
She nodded.
Gazing over her shoulder, I shoved memories aside in my mind, trying to recall...Wait. “That douche bag at the ice cream shop? Our first summer?”
“Yep. Besides Grampy, you were the first person to ever defend me. Swoon, Matt.”
I laughed, but it was ragged. Pure suspicion here, but something told me few had defended her since. And if memory served, Ian had landed a couple punches that day, too. “I should’ve hit him a few trillion more times.”
She patted my chest with a placating grin. “My hero. Now, I’m going upstairs to bed. This guy made me go shopping all damn day, then paint his living room. I’m wiped.”
God help me, she could unravel a person in seconds. Smiling, I wiped away the smudge of paint under her jaw. “Goodnight.”
Slipping out of my arms, she turned for the patio door. “And we will never speak of this again.”
Before she’d completely disappeared, I called her name, and she turned. “I meant what I said. You’re not alone.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Matt
July—Two Years Ago
S till shocked at my behavior, I followed Cara’s directions to the pier and parked my car. She’d said very little since we’d left the nightclub together, and it was wringing my nerves raw. I was a bit of a good guy, a safe bet. Ergo, I’d never associated with the likes of a woman resembling Cara. I’d been instantly attracted to her and still didn’t know why.
Without a word, she climbed out of the car and headed toward the dunes. I followed, stepping under the stairs to the massive pier jutting out at least two hundred feet into the ocean. I’d never been down this way, but by the look of it, the pier was used by fisherman. This area was relatively deserted. No one wandered the beach. A few restaurants dotted both directions, but they were closed
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