Page 92 of Not How I Saw That Going

“That’s better,” he whispers. His hand lifts to my cheek and the pad of his thumb wipes away the remaining tears. “Why were you crying?”

I bite my bottom lip. If I tell him, will he see how big of a reject I am? How unwanted I am?

“My, uh, mother kind of disowned me.” I study the black numbers peeking out from his collar.

“Disowned you?”

“Yeah.” My lips quiver but I press on. “When I got pregnant, she said she was too young to be a grandmother, and that if I was dumb enough to get knocked up, I deserved the fate I got.”

His grip tightens around my waist and his jaw clenches so hard I’m worried he will snap something.

“But apparently, she’s now ready and is the image of a perfect grandmother to her new granddaughter.” I laugh mercilessly. The image roars to life in my brain again and the throbbing pain returns to my chest.

“She’s never seen Crew?” he asks in disbelief.

“No.” Despite my best efforts, another tear breaks free. My son shouldn’t have to pay for my mistakes. He shouldn’t be disowned because of me. It’s not fair to him.

He scowls, and I can feel the aggression coming off him in waves. His chest rumbles beneath my palm. “No mother should ever treat their daughter like that.”

I bite my bottom lip. “I think that’s just been my lot in life. My ex, Rodney, wasn’t any better. Everyone gets rid of me eventually.” I start to pull back but he tightens his grip on me.

“Then you haven’t been treated the way you deserve.” His eyes burn into mine, trying to tell me something real, something important. Something I want to believe with my whole heart.

“What do I deserve?” I whisper.

He studies my face, his eyes landing on my lips. I know what’s coming next. And I’m all in. Real or fake, it makes no difference at the moment. I need him.

“Let me show you,” he murmurs.

My eyes drift closed.

And then he pulls away.

Thirty Two

Lyndi

Mymindisstillreeling from our almost kiss as Ward pulls up in front of a house and tells me to stay put. He disappears inside the cute white, two-story home that completely clashes with his personality. Or the personality he lets show. But maybe he’s more like this inviting little home than I know. He comforted me earlier, almost kissed me. Kissing someone can be exhausting. But not kissing someone when you really want to, is the worst form of torture I have ever experienced.

I lean my head against the headrest, but the seconds grow longer, and my eyelids grow heavy.

My eyes drift close, but this time I know there’s not a kiss to stay alert for, so I let sleep take me.

I awake to a loud thud. I jolt in my seat, confused about where I am. It’s pitch black, and Ward is gone.

The truck bounces and then there’s another thud. Is someone trying to steal this truck with me in it?

I fumble for my phone.Quick, what’s the number for 9-1-1—

My door swings open.

A scream rips from my throat, and my fight or flight reflexes kick into overdrive. I throw my fist, landing a punch to the perpetrator’s nose.

“Ow!” Ward staggers back, and I gasp.

“Ward!” My heart settles to a dull thud and I jump from the truck. Ward’s truck. Who else’s vehicle would I be in? I mentally smack myself. “I’m so sorry.”

“I think I’ve learned my lesson about waking you up,” he says, rubbing at his nose.

---