Page 60 of The Fine Line
“Rhett,” I sigh. “You know what I mean.”
He studies me for a long second. Something flickers in his eyes. “You don’t trust me.”
I don’t answer.
“Wow,” he mutters, turning away.
“Wow as in…what?”
“Wow as in, wow, Cub. That’s pretty fucked up. Knowing you think that little of me.”
Guilt tugs at my chest. “I don’tnottrust you. I just…” I rub a hand through my hair. “The whole night’s a blur.”
“Well, there’s one thing you can be sure of,” he says, stepping closer. “That didn’t happen.”
My brows furrow.
“Because you’d remember,” he says, voice low. His eyes flick downward, darkening. “I’d make sure of it.”
My breath catches. I drop my gaze to his chest. “Why are you not wearing a shirt?”
“I went for a run. I always do before practice.”
“Practice?”
“Yeah. I need to leave in fifteen?—”
“Wait.” My head whips to the kitchen clock. “Oh my God. I have a broadcast meeting in forty-five minutes. I have to go.”
I drop the comforter and turn to sprint—then remember I’m in just a t-shirt and panties.
“Baby Bear?—”
“Don’t look at me!”
“Why—”
“Rhett!”
He lets out a sigh and turns his back.
I yank open drawers, grabbing the first thing that resembles shorts. Turns out they’re gray boxers instead, but I don’t have time to be picky. I step into them, rolling the waistband until they’re presentable. Then I shut the drawers, spin around, and scan the room.
“Can I look now?” Rhett calls.
“If you insist,” I mutter, still scanning.
“There’s no need to stress, okay?” he says, trailing me. “You can ride with me. We’re going to the same place.”
I bark a laugh, grabbing my clothes from the floor. “I most certainly cannot.”
“Why not?”
“First of all, I need to go home and get ready. I can’t show up with last night’s makeup and yesterday’s outfit. And second, I cannot be seen with you.”
Silence follows while I gulp the lukewarm tea. I don’t notice the shift in energy until Rhett says, “Really?”
I meet his eyes. “Yes, really. Not today.”
