Page 58 of Older

“Yeah, well, I’m not a big fan of school dances.”

“So let’s go to the bluffs instead.”

“She said no.” I couldn’t help myself. Swiveling around with my hand tightly coiled around the leather lead, I flicked my eyes to Halley, then back to the kid. “Doesn’t sound like she’s interested.”

He scowled at me. “You live here?”

“No.”

“You her dad or something?”

I cringed. “No.”

“Then take a hike, tough guy.”

Halley looked mortified as she jolted forward, inserting her slim body between us when Pimple Guy tried to get in my face. “It’s fine,” she intervened. “Eric, maybe we can grab coffee next weekend. I do have plans tonight.”

She didn’t want to grab coffee with him.

And I wanted to break his face for pressuring her.

“Whatever.” He inched backward, spitting on the lawn beside our feet. “I’ll call you.”

The guy finally retreated, stalking down the sidewalk with his JNCO jeans and piss-poor attitude. I watched him disappear around the corner before slowly turning back to Halley.

She blinked at me.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

I wasn’t sorry.

He was a fuckass.

“I was handling it.” She leveled me with a glower, moving to fold her arms in a defensive stance but popping a hand on her hip, instead. “You don’t need to be chasing boys away.”

“His intentions weren’t pure.”

“That’s…” She scoff-laughed. “His intentions don’t concern you.”

“I was looking out for you. Something your father never did.”

Her face reddened against the setting sun. “You don’t know anything about my father.”

“I know enough.”

My gaze dipped to her left arm, still fragile and healing, before panning back up. We stared at each other as her honeyed hair spilled over each shoulder like liquid gold. Her eyes flashed, but it was more than just anger. More than aggravation.

Pain ringed her irises—a look I’d become all too familiar with.

That catastrophic shoulder massage, for one.

And then the altercation on the deck when she’d thought I was about to put my fist through her face.

Fuck.

It haunted me.

The shoulder rub had been a mistake, and the logical side of my brain had evidently jumped out the window, deserting me in my time of need. The intimate hug on the deck had been a mistake, too, but I hadn’t known what else to do at the time. She’d been scared of me. Terrified and panicked, cowering like a wounded animal about to be struck down by an assassin.