Mother, Please! - By Brenda Novak & Jill Shalvis & Alison Kent Page 0,66

“You weren’t there for the whole thing.”

David huffed with more bitterness than he’d intended. He’d been there for way too much. “Yeah. I just saw the part where good ol’ Johnny Boyd ripped open the top of your cheerleading uniform.”

Avery sat back. Slowly she drew her hand along her collarbone, her fingers slipping beneath the V neckline of her dusky-blue sleeveless tunic. Her voice barely reached a whisper when she said, “He didn’t mean to hurt me.”

God, but she was wrong. So very wrong. Johnny Boyd had been all about getting into her pants whether she consented or not. Shoving half his croissant into his mouth kept David from demanding Avery admit her mistake.

Not that he thought she’d defend her position if he did. He was surprised she was talking at all, because even then, that night, all those years ago, she’d turned and run without saying a word.

Not even a halfhearted thanks.

He hadn’t wanted her thanks. He’d wanted her to see, to really see, who he was, how he felt about her. How he’d always felt about her. But like everyone around her, all she’d seen was what he looked like, the clothes he wore, the way his mouth wouldn’t shut the hell up.

Stupid. He’d been such a stupid freak to think she would pay him any attention when he’d been the school geek and she’d been queen of the prom. She sure as hell hadn’t wanted anything to do with him or the attention he’d received after the fight with Johnny Boyd beneath the bleachers.

He’d returned to school at the end of his suspension as the bad boy, the only kid in any of the four classes who’d taken on Johnny and won. It was the peer respect he’d always wanted, had foolishly wished his 4.0 grade average would earn.

But no. That sort of awe only came with pounding another kid’s head to a near pulp.

Hell, he was still a stupid freak even now for thinking back to a time that was over and done with and had no bearing on who the both of them were today. Except he wasn’t so sure of that truth. Which meant he had no business bad-mouthing Avery for not letting that night go.

It was that night beneath the bleachers and the look in Avery’s eyes, in fact, that had brought him back into her life. He’d moved on since high school, had graduated university with honors. He was more than content with his circumstances, pleased by the enthusiasm of his students, fortunate to be part of a dedicated teaching staff.

No, he’d never planned to end up in Tatem. But neither had he ever been able to get Avery’s wounded-animal expression out of his mind. He’d wondered for years what that night had done to her, knowing exactly how it had changed him, turned him from freak to punk.

So when she reached a tentative hand across the table and wrapped her fingers over his, he didn’t even question why his pulse decided to race. He looked up from her hand, from her fingers so pale and delicate and, yeah, so really, really strong, and into her big baby blues.

“Thank you, David. I don’t think I ever said that.” One side of her mouth turned up. “I thought it.” She gave a quiet laugh. “I’ve thought it now for fifteen years.” Finally her expression grew solemn. “You suffered for my sins, and I never even expressed my gratitude.”

Gratitude. Right. That was exactly what he wanted. He pulled his hand free and reached for his mug, scraping his chair around and squaring an ankle over a knee so he no longer faced her. And then he got back to eating his breakfast. Food he could deal with. Fixing clogged drains, simple stuff.

Not having Avery try to make nice when he wasn’t in the mood for forgiveness.

And then she huffed.

Avery huffed and snorted. “Oh, now you don’t want to talk about it, is that it? You want to rub my face in the fact that you rescued me, but the minute I offer you the thanks I should have given you years ago, you’re done talking.”

Here we go. “It’s not about thanking me, Avery.” He tried not to glare, and wasn’t sure he’d succeeded. “It’s about you always being so blind to people.”

“Blind? Me? What are you talking about?”

As much as this was about how she’d never seen him for who he really was, it was more. About how she was unaware of her own