Page 81 of The Love Dare
He’s wrong.
She’s the one in heaven, and it’s high time everyone she loves knows it, too.
Dallas, she thinks, swallowing.Here we come.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
tyler
It’s beena long time since he was this nervous standing on the front steps of the Rusu house.
Scratch that.
He’sneverbeen this nervous standing on the front steps of the Rusu house. That winter’s night six years ago feels a very long way off. And it was different then. He was freaking out, yes. But he was freaking out about the very small possibility of everything in his life changing.
Now, there’s noifabout it.
The next five minutesaregoing to change everything. Alexandru will never look at him the same. Alex may never forgive him. Yetta—well, he’s pretty sure Yetta will be over the moon. She’s always had a soft spot for him, but still, one out of three isn’t exactly the result he’s going for here.
“Where do they think you’ve been again?” Tyler asks as he shifts his weight. It’s over a hundred degrees in Dallas and every bit of that boiling sun seems to be laser focused on him. His lungs are tight. His chest burns. His palm grows sweaty in Winnie’s hand, but she doesn’t make a move to let him go. If anything, she clutches on for dear life.
“An artist retreat,” she practically squeaks.
“And they bought that?”
“Sam’s been sending my mom emails pretending to be me. I told them it was a six-week retreat with no cell service. Very prestigious.”
He nods, then swallows, then nods again.
Nina explained earlier that the Rusus believe Tyler is here to film a segment for the show about growing up with the family and their connection to his hockey career. No mention of Winnie. Nothing. Which, really, he should have expected. The producers obviously want to milk this moment for all it’s worth. But that does nothing to ease the guilt twisting his stomach into knots—now, in addition to going behind their backs, he’s springing the truth on them with no warning for the entire world to see.
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
“Is someone going to knock on the door?” Nina calls from behind them. “Or do I have to come up there and do it myself?”
“No, I’ve got it,” he answers gruffly, before glancing at Winnie. “Unless you…?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “You do it.”
“You’re sure.”
“Yeah.”
“Now?”
“I guess.”
He lifts his hand in slow motion, then closes his eyes, unable to look as his knuckles rap against the door.
Shit.
Fuck.
Shit.
The knob twists.
Right before the door swings open, Winnie drops his hand, dives off the stoop, and lands behind a bush with anoomph.
