I stare at her.
She demands, "Be very clear, Wyatt, so I don't waste any more of my time."
"It's not going to happen between us," I repeat.
Rage and hurt spark in her eyes as she glares at me.
I didn't mean to lead her on. But ever since I noticed the real Willow, I can't even look at anyone else.
Chelsea jabs me in the chest and snarls, "You're a lost cause, Wyatt," then she brushes past me.
I turn and lean against the wall, staring at the ceiling. When I finally look across the hall, my gut drops.
Willow stares at me, her books held tight to her chest, her face white as a ghost.
Jesus, my luck is horrible.
I move toward her, but she spins on her heel and saunters down the hall.
"Willow, wait up," I call out.
She stops.
I catch up to her and turn her to face me. "Hey."
"Hey," she softly replies.
"Nothing is going on between Chelsea and me," I assure her.
Her face hardens, and she averts her eyes.
I add, "I reiterated to her that she and I are never happening."
Willow meets my gaze.
"Tell me you believe me. One thing I've never done is lie to you," I remind her.
She bites her lip.
"Besides, sugar, she doesn't hold a candle to you." I wink.
Willow softly laughs.
Relief has the tension draining from me. "So, are we going to be able to do some barn chores together this week?" I waggle my eyebrows. All week, our timing has been off. Between riding practice and Jacob's sudden chores that I didn't anticipate, I've not done barn duty with Willow once.
"Depends. Are you going to actually be there when I am?"
I lower my voice. "That's the plan. But do me a favor."
"What?"
"Help me out."
"How?"
"Do your homework first, then eat dinner, then barn chores. I have practice, and I'll be devastated if I miss watching you toss manure all night." I grin.
She laughs, but then her expression turns serious. She asks, "Are you scared?"
