Page 82 of Mended Hearts

“Agreed. Which is why we should’ve just said something.”

“Maybe,” I admitted, trying to slow my breathing. He wasn’t the only one who’d rehashed that morning ten ways from Sunday. “But walking into family breakfast with a new scandal still sounds like a terrible idea.”

“So, what?”

“What do you mean, ‘so what’?”

“We’re both adults. Let them think whatever the hell they want. Unless… unless that’s all you wanted. Unlessyoudon’t want more.”

Blinking, I let the weight of his words settle. This man…

“You…” I glanced at a still-focused Tillie, then back to those soulful brown eyes. “You don’t regret me?”

“Jesus,” he said, his voice tight with emotion. “Never. Just… how I handled it. How I let Grey get in my head and paint something beautiful in a light of shame. You make me happy, Leighton. I felt like I was on top of the world until I walked into my office and Grey called me out.”

“What?!”

“That’s not the point,” he muttered, glancing over his shoulder. “And I’m not making excuses. The point is—it shouldn’t matter. Whathethinks. Whattheythink. Who cares?”

“Literally everyone.”

“So?” He shrugged. “I’m not ashamed of this.” He motioned between us. “Never was. It just took a minute to realize that’s what we were battling.”

“Because of the family.” Because… that’s what it was for me. I didn’t want to make Pax’s last years in the league uncomfortable. Alice and Greyson’s disapproval shouldn’t matter, but somehow the idea of disappointing her did. Maverick and Axel would never stop cracking jokes about keeping it in the family. Jameson would inevitably disapprove. Elora and Broderick would mean well—but they’d analyze the whole thing six ways from Sunday until everyone was crying.

“Right.”

“Becausewe’refamily.”

“On paper, maybe. But watching you walk Mattie through that panic attack—putting her needs ahead of your own. Going toe-to-toe with Carly and watching her run off with her tail between her legs… You’re killing me, Leighton.”

“She’s a special kid,” I stammered. “And Cruella is a waste of space.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “But seeing you with them—God, it’s like a knife to the gut every time I walk through that door. Like getting a glimpse of the life I want. One you’re already a part of. So I’ll ask again. Why shouldn’t I say anything?”

I set down the bowl of olives—now appropriately arranged beside the other veggies—as my mouth popped open.

Was he…was he serious?

Why would he do this to me?

Things were going so well. And could he possibly know how badly I still wanted him?

This man was standing in front of me, declaring his intentions so boldly that my brain couldn’t buffer fast enough to convert emotion into words.

A lapse in control and a stolen kiss? Sure. I could tackle that. But this?

Hello, this is the Leighton Express, and we’re radioing to inform you that the plan has officially gone off the rails.

“Ollie…”

“I mean it. I can’t get you out of my mind.”

“Well, me either. But you can’t just say shit like that.”

“Why not?”

Forcing my gaze up to his, I was caught by the turmoil in those bottomless browns. My voice came out a whisper, terrified and soft.

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