Page 19 of Untamed
A built-up sigh I didn’t know I had been suppressing releases, long and full of pent-up nerves.
Grayer doesn’t follow him, his eyes scan my face, shocked, and then those blue diamond eyes turn cold, bitter, resentful even, and disappear with a heavy sigh. He clenches his jaw and nods, staring straight ahead. He stiffens as he glances briefly at my dad.
Sucks to be me.
He remembers me all right, but now he also knows I lied to him last night. Walking away with stiffness to his posture, it takes everything in me not to reach out and grab onto him, beg him to let me explain. But I can’t, not with my dad in the room, or within earshot.
“Shit!” Haylee mouths, eyes as wide as mine.
My lashes flutter and I can’t bring myself to look at him walking away. I just can’t. When they’re out of sight, I glare at my dad and flip him off behind his back—because that’s what teenage girls do. I grab Haylee by the hand heading out the door.
Morgan laughs at my hand gesture, following us. “He’s cute.”
I’m the unluckiest person alive.
I pat her head and adjust my bag on my shoulder, giving the house a fleeting glance. “I know.”
“I can’t believe you gave that guy head last night.” Haylee’s tripping down the steps as I rush toward the truck. “I’m totally jealous of your mouth.”
“Why?” Morgan asks, trudging toward Haylee’s truck with us and trying to keep her too big flip-flops from falling off. “What’s head? Did you kiss his head?”
“Um, no. She’s talking about . . .” I pause, trying to think of a way out of this conversation. “Nothing.”
Haylee redirects and opens the door of her truck, nodding to Morgan. “Hey, Morgy Moo, how about you grab us some Cokes for the road?”
“Okay!” My sister may not get up with me and do chores every morning, but she loves to wait on people. Her life goal is to be a waitress. It’s a good thing she’s eight and still has time to think of what she really wants to do with her life. No offense to waitresses.
Haylee snorts when Morgan’s out of sight. “Think he’ll talk to you again? Because by that look he gave you, I’m guessing you left out the part about you being seventeen last night, didn’t you?”
Nodding, I sigh, defeated. “Probably not. He doesn’t seem like the forgiving type.”
I feel bad that I lied to Grayer and even worse at the look he gives me when he and my dad step outside. It’s an awful gnawing sensation in the pit of my stomach. Like a thousand angry bees swirling around. Damn it. I should have told him the truth. That’d I’d be eighteen in a few days and all this would be fine.
In the distance, Grayer narrows his eyes, evaluating me. It’s like he’s trying to decide if he can ever trust me again. Look what a tiny white lie can do.
Insert pouty face.
