“Georgia, who is this guy?”

Another pause.

“I don’t want to talk about him.” She sounded small.

My fuse was burning real bright at about this point. I wasn’t used to being jerked around and right now this girl had me dancing on the edge of a rope like I was a fucking puppet.

“Well that sure as hell says a lot.”

“Ben,” she said softly. “He’s not what you think.”

“I don’t know what he is or what to think because you’re not giving me anything.” Fuck. “What are we doing here?”

I head her exhale, a long, shaky breath. “What do you want, Ben?”

A hot little blonde had been staring at me from across the parking lot for a few minutes and she ambled over, a small, sexy smile on her face. She’d eyed me up in the airport too. I knew the look. I knew what she wanted.

What do I want?

“I can tell you what I don’t want. I don’t want to be the guy you’ve got in your back pocket while you’re fucking someone else.” I knew the words were harsh but they fell out of me before I could stop them.

The blonde was beside my truck with a black sharpie in her hand. She wanted an autograph. She licked her lips suggestively.

She wanted more than an autograph.

“I’m not fucking anyone,” Georgia retorted and if I had taken the time to listen, I might have heard the hurt in her voice. But I didn’t. I was pissed.

“Yeah, well neither am I.”

“You’re being an asshole.”

I rolled the window down and nodded. “Hey.”

“Who are you talking to?” Georgia asked sharply.

The blonde leaned over, her breasts practically falling out of her tight, pink top. She mouthed, ‘Ben Lancaster?’, and I nodded as she yanked on her top and handed me the sharpie.

“Ben?” Georgia prodded angrily.

“A fan.”

The girl giggled, her voice an annoying combination of sugar and sweet. “Maybe you could sign both of them?”

“Are you autographing her tits?” Georgia didn’t wait for an answer. “You really are an asshole.” There was no mistaking the hurt in her voice and though my anger still burned hard, there was also the uncomfortable feeling of something I didn’t quite recognize.

Click.

Fuck me. What the hell had just happened?

Chapter Sixteen

Georgia

Secrets are heavy.

They’re heavy and they’re hard and sharp and they suck.

They press into your chest and make it hard to breathe. They make it hard to sleep or relax or just to be…

But most of all secrets made me sad. And sad made me scared.

My clock glowed on the table beside my bed. It was Saturday morning, barely past four and still dark outside.

I rolled over and fell out of bed, shivering as I crossed the room to my window. I leaned against the glass and gazed into the quiet below. There were no stars, nothing to light the darkness and I thought that maybe it was going to rain.

Great. Rain plus sad was going to make for one hell of an awesome Saturday. Go me.

I picked the edge of the window sill and turned so that my cheek was now pressed against the glass. I was still pissed at Ben, but the initial hurt had passed. I didn’t blame him for being an asshole, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.

I wanted to think that he was jealous because he had no idea who Seamus was, or what he meant to me. He had no idea that in the past there were days when Seamus was the only thing standing between myself and a return to Oak Run.

Oak Run. Just the thought of that place made me shudder.

How the hell was I going to explain that one?

Hey Ben, I’m kinda sorta fucked and last fall I tried to kill myself and then they made me go stay in a hospital that’s not really a hospital but a mental institution because I’m also kinda sorta crazy. No bigee, it kinda sorta runs in the family.

Shame burned inside me and I closed my eyes, hating the tight band of tension that rolled across my shoulders. How was I going to explain to Ben that I was damaged? That my brain was totally fucked up? That the chemistry was out of whack. That unless I took my daily dose of meds I was out of whack?

How was he going to react when I told him what happened at college? When I told him about my insane run half naked run through the quad?




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