Billionaire Protector - Alexa Hart Page 0,60

it should be. You don’t have to worry about anything here, okay? You’re safe.”

She burrowed into me then, and I led her across the hall to my bedroom.

“Guess I’m wearing a Penn Hardick nightgown again tonight, huh?” She joked, hopping onto my bed.

“Only the best for you, Anne,” I laughed, crawling up beside her.

We smiled at each other silently for a few moments. Her and her damn dimple. God. Why?

I was ready, and so was she. But I had to – had to – talk to her first.

“I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you’re safe.”

Anne’s head whipped up. “What do you mean? I’m safe at Kate’s.”

Her tone was already borderline hostile and way past the line of defensive, so I attempted to tread lightly. “I just mean... I feel better when you’re with me. When I can protect you.”

“I don’t need protecting, Penn.” Cold. Her voice had gone cold.

“No, I know. I just, you know. I think about what you went through with foster care and –”

“So being a foster kid means I need looking after? I’m an adult, Penn. I can take care of me.” Hostile. She’d gone from cold to hostile in a hot second.

“You’re misunderstanding me, Anne. You said some bad things had happened back in Tennessee –”

“Actually, you said that. I said I didn’t want to talk about Tennessee. Not now, anyway. But you just can’t help yourself, can you? You just have to dig and dig and dig at me when all I want to do is be with you and love you.” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “You know what I mean. Not ‘love’, love. Obviously that’s not what I meant.”

Great. Now she was mad and embarrassed, and I was massively distracted by the fact that this girl may have just – in a way – let it slip that she loves me.

“I’m not digging,” I protested, trying to shake the rest off.

“You are. You are and you won’t stop. You can’t just stop.” Anne chucked a bed pillow at the wall. It was the most adorable expression of incredibly unintimidating anger ever, but I wouldn’t say so in a million years. She’d straight up kill me.

“You know, Penn, maybe it’s because you’re a Hardick, and you’ve never heard the word ‘no’ in your whole entire life. Maybe Hardicks can’t understand what the word actually means. But when I say I don’t want to talk about something, that is exactly what I mean!”

Her green eyes were shooting flames at this point. I wasn’t sure how things had escalated so quickly. The day had gone well – so well. Everything had gone well until I said that I was glad she was safe.

Why was that such a goddamn trigger button for Anne Johnson?

“You’re mad because I care, and I won’t let it go. I don’t know what happened to you when or where or how, but something did. And I love you. I want to know you’re okay. Happy. And yes, safe. I’m never going to stop wanting that. And if you would just tell me what the hell is behind all of this I could help you! Or at the very least I’d be able to understand why you are the way you are!”

Had I just said I loved her? That hadn’t been part of the plan.

“Why I am the way I am?” Anne hopped down from the bed and spread her arms wide. “What’s so wrong with me the way that I am? Why can’t you just love this – this person right in front of you? Why do you need to know everything about my whole entire life to be able to just relax and be happy with me?”

“Because something’s off, goddammit! And I care! Sue me, I care about you too much to let it go! Maybe you’re unfamiliar with the concept, but it’s possible for someone to really fucking care about you and worry about you and want to be there for you!” My volume had raised to a level I didn’t even know existed. I wasn’t a shouter, or a yeller, or a screamer.

“Don’t you ever raise your voice at me again, Penn Hardick! Do you understand me? Never talk to me like that again!” Anne’s rage was mixing with tears.

I attempted to go to her then. This was spiraling out of control and it had to be stopped before... before it was unfixable.

“Anne, I didn’t mean to raise my voice. I’m just worried about you, and

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