Reed scratched his jaw. “I love playing football. I never wanted the shit that came with it, though. Well, the money is OK, I suppose, but not the fame.”
“You’re such a liar. I’ve seen you on TV and how you are with your fans.”
“It’s all an act, Storm. Surely you can recognize one of those.”
Clearing my throat, I pulled back slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?
Reed held up a hand. “Don’t get your panties in a twist. I meant, we are all guilty of wearing masks.”
Pulling my legs up to my chest, I glanced out at the water. “I get that. But I’m not. Not anymore. What you see is what you get.”
Reed chuckled as he started clearing up the picnic. “Bullshit.”
I turned back to him, glancing down at his strong hands as he crumpled the bread wrapper in his fingers. “It’s not bullshit, Reed.” The memories of where they had been and how they felt against my body made my tummy flutter.
Shoving the trash into the backpack, Reed lifted his head. “Then why are you marrying someone who was picked out for you as part of a business deal? That isn’t the Storm I know, to be pressured into doing something she doesn’t want to do.”
I swallowed hard before saying. “The choice is mine.”
Reed’s jaw started to tick. “Why? You don’t love him. I would know.”
My eyes narrowed. “And how would you know that? You’ve seen us together twice.”
“I know you don’t share a room at the house. Nix told me.” Phoenix and his big fucking mouth.
“So, that doesn’t mean I don’t love him: Daddy is old-fashioned, you know that.” Fuck the words felt like acid in my mouth.
The aggression in his shoulders softened as he gave me a knowing smile. “I know you don’t love him, Storm, because you don’t look at him the way you look at me.”
Busted.
TEN
STORM
Reed’s softly spoken words caused my heart to flip in my chest. He was right. I had never, couldnever look at Jasper the way I did this boy.
The thought of breaking down in front of him when I had to be strong forced my hand. I grabbed one of my boots with shaking fingers, suddenly overly aware that I was wearing Jasper’s engagement ring on the chain around my neck. Why did it feel like it was suddenly getting tighter, threatening to choke me? I should have left it in the car.
“Tell me I’m wrong,” he whispered, and the truth of his comment hit me like a slap.
“Reed, please.” I moaned, yanking on the leather of a Louboutin. I was gradually slipping towards rock bottom again.
At first, our walk down memory lane had been fun and refreshing, but moving into those deeper pastures where feelings had been hidden was far too upsetting.
I thought about the accident and what happened afterwards, the scar beneath my collarbone: hidden away. Fate had intervened that night; I was never supposed to get to Reed. That’s what I chose to believe anyway, and so he really needed to let it go.
As I tugged on my other boot, Reed's hand stopped me, his fingers against the skin of my wrist.
“Why don’t you stop hiding and tell me the truth? You owe me that much.”
“What truth?” I snarled out with frustration.
We both came to our feet and faced each other, Reed dropping his hand.
“Why are you marrying him?” The rawness of that question hit that sensitive nerve that wouldn’t stop throbbing. It was something I asked myself daily, even though I knew the answer.
To protect you, you asshole!
