The girl swallows hard and then pushes out like it’s hard for her to breathe. “I’m, uh… so sorry. I was just leaving. I think I have the wrong house.”
Her voice wobbles, but she doesn’t cry. Her bottom lip trembles instead. She’s small, brave, stubborn, and something about that thought has a sharp possession twisting in my chest.
Protect her.
The instinct hits so fast and hard it almost knocks the air out of me. I don’t even know her name, but everything in me reacts like she’s mine.
My dick twitches in my jeans from how fucking pretty she is. Great, that’s new. Exactly what I don’t need right now is to turn into one of those horny college kids.
Bring me my mask, I guess.
I need to keep my wits about me if I'm going to actually help her, and to do that I need to know who brought her here. “Who was in that car?” I ask, stepping closer to her, and I hate the way she flinches before she forces herself to relax. What happened to her? And who is the fucker responsible? “Why are you here? And don’t lie to me. This isn’t the kind of place you end up at by accident.”
She bites her lip, unsure if she should answer.
That tiny movement almost ruins me. I want to reach out and brush her bottom lip with my thumb like an absolute fucking creep. I know how it sounds, but it doesn’t make the desire course through me any less.
I should be the only one biting that lip.
Then I notice it, the girl is shivering violently. Of course she is. Rain dripping down her face from her hair, and I feel like an absolute asshole for noticing everything else but how cold she is.
Whoever dropped her here, whoever left her alone on a stranger’s porch in the dark, in a fucking storm…
I want to put them six feet under.
She must decide that she needs to trust me because the girl finally moves. She shoves her delicate hand inside her coat pocket, and my eyes monitor every move just like I’m trained to do. She pulls out a soaked envelope with trembling fingers.
“My dad… I don’t know why he thinks you’ll help me. I don’t expect that. You have no reason to?—”
I tear open the letter.
And everything inside me goes still.
Riley Montrose.
Not a best friend. I never let myself have those.
He was my college roommate. He was quiet, steady, decent in a way most people aren’t. We weren’t the type to sit around talking feelings or pretending we were closer than we were. But we learned how to look out for each other. How to share space without crossing lines.
He was the closest thing I ever let myself have to a friend. We played college hockey together. I did it because I was good at it and was able to get part of my tuition paid for just for being on the team.
We lost touch after graduation, different paths, different lives. I never let myself look him up. I just assumed he was married, had a family, or at least I hoped that for him. He was never flashy, never into collecting meaningless possessions. He had a nice girlfriend who I saw around our dorm once in a while, and I just assumed he married her.
I’m not an easy guy to track down, but Riley somehow found me. Tracked me down. Trusted me.
With what I can only assume is his most precious possession of all.
“I’m so sorry. He was in a rush and he thought this would be safe, but I don’t think he was thinking through how you’d feel with some girl just showing up…” she breathes out like she finds the whole thing absurd, like she can’t understand how her life has turned out this way. She turns to go, stepping down the stairs, whispering another apology, but her foot slips on the wet wood.
I catch her without thinking, one arm snapping around her waist and pulling her into my chest.
She looks up at me through the rain, eyes huge, long soaked lashes, mouth parted in a breathless little gasp.
I’m fucked. Truly, deeply and utterly fucked. I’d do anything for her, give her anything she wanted.
Riley wouldn’t have abandoned his daughter. Not unless he had no choice. Not unless he was terrified. And he sure as hell wouldn’t leave her with someone he hadn’t seen in nearly twenty damn years.
None of that matters.
