Page 92 of The Secret We Keep
The car bounces and crunches the stones underneath us.
“That might not be a bad idea,” he grumbles, finally coming to a stop.
I adjust my hair, eyes bulging. “What are we doing here?”
Pressing the same button he did to start the car, he cuts the engine. Twisting in his seat, he faces me.
The intensity of his gaze is electrifying. “What?”
Paddy’s dark, twilight eyes rake over my entire face. They dazzle like they always do. “Up until last night, no one has been in a car with me since the accident, curly fries.”
Waiting for him to go on, I lock my eyes with his.
“No one has been in my car because I’ve been too scared.” Paddy swipes a hand over his face.
A strand of his hair lands over his eye, and unlike every other time it’s done that, and I’ve simply watched, this time, I reach out and brush it backwards.
Paddy’s eyes close, and the thickness of the air makes it impossible to breathe.
“Paddy?” I say on barely a whisper.
He leans into my touch. “I froze when I needed to help Jake and Danny.” Eyes locking, he shakes his head. “Back in London. There was an accident, and I froze. I should have helped, but I couldn’t move.”
Placing my hand on his, we both stare down. “It sounds like trauma, Paddy.”
“I know,” he agrees, curling his fingers with mine, sending sparks to travel up my arm. “I’ve not been dealing with it,” he looks up at me again, “until last night.” His shoulders relax.
“What changed?” I ask softly, my lips rolling in on each other.
“You did.”
One. Two. Three. Four.
I mentally count the seconds, trying to register what he’s desperately trying to tell me.
Five.
He opens his mouth again. “You messaged me in trouble, and I didn’t even think about coming to get you. It was instinct. Basic fucking instinct, Morgan.” Paddy’s thumb begins stroking the back of my hand, sending goosebumps exploding over my skin.
“That’s why you drive so carefully?”
He nods. “I was violently sick when I got home. Mum heard me. Then she caught me drinking whisky at one in the morning.”
“That can’t be good.”
“When is it ever?”
I raise a small smile. “You sound angry with yourself,” I say, sensing his sullen tone.
His gaze flicks to the front window, but his fingers tighten underneath mine. “I was—am,” he corrects himself. “But if it wasn’t for you, I don’t know if I would have been able to see myself moving past this. You’ve given me hope that maybe one day I can.”
God, this man. I’ve given him hope? Me? “You mean if it wasn’t for Holly not showing up?”
Paddy pointlessly adjusts his hoodie.
“If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have told you something was wrong,” I add.
“Well…” He pauses, looking a little wary now. “I guess I have her to thank then.”
