He was facing me with his feet shoulder-width apart and his arms crossed over his chest.
Uncle Knox gave me a chin lift and then turned on his boot and walked back into the clubhouse.
I stared up into those mesmerizing mossy-colored eyes of his and asked, “What’s going on?”
He sighed, “I’m leaving.”
I felt something reach inside me, grip my heart, and squeeze it.
“You weren’t planning on telling me, were you?”
His jaw ticked.
“No, Cree. I wasn’t.”
I felt my body flinch.
Cree.
He never called me Cree.
I wasn’t Cree to him.
No, I was either Creedence or Star Shine.
“Why not?” I asked.
He stayed silent.
I stepped closer to him and laid my palms on his chest.
His jaw ticked again.
I left them there.
After everything we shared last night, he could damn well deal with it.
“Alexander. Why not?”
“It’s Ripper. I stopped being Alexander a while ago.”
I stared up at him, then asked, “And what about last night?”
Then... I watched as he flinched.
He. Fucking. Flinched.
Fuck, but did that hurt.
He sighed as he pulled his ball cap off his head and ran his fingers through his dark hair I’d had my hands in only hours before, and then... he stepped away from me.
My hands fell to my sides.
That didn’t hurt.
No. It cut so fucking deep I wasn’t sure that I was still breathing.
“I have to do this. This place... too many bad fucking memories.”
