Witless (Lonely Souls #3) - Autumn Reed Page 0,23

and let him hit me with it. I deserved a second broken leg for that comment. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s okay. I thought the same when I first signed up to volunteer. But they have a little different idea of role models here. They aren’t looking for perfect people. Just ones who are trying.”

“And, you’re trying?”

I could see that he was. But, whether it was fair or not, I still needed reassurance from him. He’d put my heart through the wringer once, and I didn’t know if I could survive a second.

“Yes.” He rested one arm against the top of the door and leaned in. “Despite what I’ve led you to believe, I want to be better. I thought I needed to get out of this small town to do that, but I was wrong.

“I want to do right by my brothers. Hell, I want to do right by myself.” With his free hand, Tristin ran a thumb over the curve of my cheek. “And, most of all, I want to do right by you.”

My skin jumped under his touch and my pulse pounded in my ears. “How?”

One corner of his mouth tipped up. “Maybe we can figure that out together.”

Chapter Eleven

Thea

“Where are your boyfriends?” Petra asked as she drove me home from class Friday afternoon.

I didn’t bother correcting her use of boyfriends. It wouldn’t do any good, anyway.

“Leo has practice, and Tristin took his boat out.”

He’d invited me to go along, but after our outing at the youth center yesterday, I didn’t think it was such a good idea to be alone with him on the small yacht where we’d slept together for the first time. It was difficult enough not to maul him while we were in the car together. Boats were out of the question.

“What about Hayle?”

“I have no idea.” And that was the honest truth. He was no longer participating in the “look after Thea” schedule. Not that I needed looking after. Minus the chauffeuring, of course.

“Did you two have a fight?”

“Not exactly.”

She reached for the console and turned down the Dua Lipa song she’d been blaring. “I’m not stupid, girlfriend. I know there’s stuff you haven’t told me. The moment I decided to be friends with you, I promised myself that I wouldn’t push. But I want you to know you can tell me anything. I would never spill your secrets.”

My heart swelled a little at her words. I did trust her. That wasn’t the problem.

“That’s the thing. They’re not really my secrets to tell.” Especially when it came to Lily. “Besides, there are some things I think you’re better off not knowing.”

Petra huffed out a laugh. “That sounds ominous.”

For good reason.

She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “Just tell me one thing.”

“Okay.”

“None of the Sharpes are…hurting you, are they?”

I scrunched up my nose. “Hurting me?”

“Yeah. You know, physically.”

“No,” I answered immediately. “Nothing like that, I swear.”

She breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank god.”

“Why would you even ask that?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’ve been watching too many Lifetime movies lately, and my imagination went a little wild.”

“All of my damage is emotional.” I looked down at my detested cast. “And self-inflicted.”

“Oh, stop. That accident was not your fault.” She shot me a grin. “Actually, I specifically remember Leo and Tristin blaming themselves when we were following you to the hospital.”

“They did?”

“Yeah. Don’t suppose you want to tell me why?”

I groaned. I was so done with thinking about that night. In fact, I didn’t really care why Leo had said what he had about Tristin fucking me anymore. They’d been arguing, and I’d only heard a piece of what had obviously been a much larger conversation. I just wanted to move on and forget about it.

“They were both being assholes that night.” Leo for fake flirting with his date, and Tristin for threatening to leave Moss Harbor for good. “That’s all.”

“Maybe we should forget boys altogether. I’d go gay for you.”

I laughed. “Have you ever even kissed another girl?”

“Once, in high school, on a dare.”

“And?”

She shrugged. “It was nice. Her lips were really soft, and she smelled good. But I wasn’t, like, wanting to get in her pants or anything.”

“How many times have you enjoyed a kiss with a guy and not wanted to get in his pants?”

“Um…never.”

“I think that’s your answer.”

“Damn it. You’re right.”

She pulled into the driveway of the townhouse, and my blood ran cold. Because a familiar Mercedes was

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