The Boy Toy - Nicola Marsh Page 0,63

me?

“Hmm,” she mumbled against his chest, squeezing him tight.

When she showed no signs of wanting to let go, he held her tighter. How many times had he craved a comforting hug when he was younger? Too many, courtesy of his dad’s callous indifference, especially when he asked questions about where his mom was. He’d given up asking after a while; because of his nerves, he’d inevitably stutter worse than usual and would earn one of his dad’s impatient glares, and he hated those as much as his lack of answers.

After what seemed like an eternity, her grip loosened and she eased out of his arms. He braced—for her to avoid his eyes or for a cold expression—but to his relief, she slipped her hand into his and tugged him toward the sofa.

“I have to say, you’re kinda scaring me,” he said, sitting next to her. “What’s going on?”

“I had a massive fight with Pia.” She gnawed on her bottom lip, disappointment in her eyes. “It wasn’t pretty.”

Thankfully, he didn’t blurt the first response that came to mind: Is that all? They were family, so he figured this wouldn’t have been their first falling-out. But she was seriously rattled, so whatever was said, it must’ve been big.

“You two are close, yeah?”

She nodded, staring at their clasped hands rather than meeting his gaze. “Best friends as well as cousins, so I expected more from her . . .”

She shook her head and raised it but still couldn’t meet his eyes. “I told her something earth-shattering, and while I didn’t expect her to like it, I expected more support.”

Earth-shattering? That didn’t sound good. Was she sick? Leaving early? At least he could strike dumping him off his list of suppositions; considering they’d barely got together officially, breaking up definitely wouldn’t classify as earth-shattering.

“Family can be hard to deal with at times.”

Didn’t he know it.

She cast him an odd look. “You never talk about yours. What are they like?”

“Mom left when I was a kid, almost four, so I barely remember her. Dad and I aren’t close.”

Thankfully, he couldn’t see pity in her stare, merely curiosity. “No other extended family? Cousins?”

Her sudden interest in his family confused him. Then again, maybe she was trying to deflect attention from hers and would rather focus on his.

“No, both my parents were only kids, and all my grandparents are dead.”

He’d hated grandparents’ day at school because he had nobody. Other kids who didn’t have grandparents had one of their parents turn up, or a close relative. His father had always been too busy with “important legal work,” so Rory would sit quietly in the back corner of the class, trying to force a smile when other grandparents politely inquired about his latest art project or portfolio because they felt sorry for him.

Though it could’ve been worse. In third grade, his teacher from the previous year must’ve given his dad a subtle hint about his lack of attendance, because his father had actually sent one of his PAs from work. Rory had met her only once previously. It had been beyond embarrassing, and he’d remained mute rather than attempt to answer her faux-interested questions, because he knew his nerves would exacerbate his stutter and he was bad enough in front of strangers.

“So it’s just you and your dad?” She hesitated, gnawing on her bottom lip. “It’s a shame you’re not close if it’s just the two of you.”

“I’m pretty sure you didn’t ask me over to talk about my crappy relationship with my dad,” he said, not willing to discuss the many reasons he didn’t get on with the illustrious Garth Radcliffe. “So is your argument with Pia the only reason you’re so upset?”

“Who says I’m upset?”

Her response came out a tad high, and he raised an eyebrow, earning a bashful smile. “Okay, you got me. I have something to tell you, and I’m hoping you won’t freak out.”

Intrigued, he squeezed her hand. “I pretty much guarantee there’s nothing you can tell me that will make me freak out. I’m a laid-back guy.”

“Yeah, but this is big . . .” She huffed out a breath, and as her gaze collided with his, he glimpsed genuine fear.

“I know we haven’t been dating long, but I’m here and I’m listening.” He raised her hand to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss to the back of it. “Tell me.”

She stared at the back of her hand, wide-eyed, as if she couldn’t quite believe he was real, before gently withdrawing her