Page 138 of Really Truly Yours

Or mistrust, and definitely not when it’s directed at me.

“You and Tripp talked a while back. Later, he said something.”

Her eyes flare. “What did he tell you?”

And there goes my last hope that whatever she told my brother was inconsequential. Meaning, his warning me off—I don’t care what he calls it—was not insignificant.

“Nothing. And that’s the problem. He essentially warned me to be careful with you—as if I’d ever do anything to hurt you. So, what I want to know is why. My brother isn’t an alarmist, but he is insightful, and now, here you and I are, and I feel like you’re clear on the other side of the Gulf. Worse, like you wish you were.”

When I peek, her eyes dart.

“And the absolute worst part? You’re not at ease with me.” I exhale away the sting. “Have I done something to make you not trust me, Sydnee?”

Her gaze falls to her hands, hands with pretty, gently-rounded fingernails. None of the bright, fake, pointy things every last one of the women I dated last year wore.

“You haven’t done anything,” she whispers. “Not like that.”

I swivel. “Then like what?”

She smooths her finger around the band of the plain pinky ring she wears once in a while, her only jewelry, save a pair of stud earrings with aqua-colored gems. Her birthstone? The thought produces a sigh. See? I want to know every last detail about her.

My ears prick at her telling release of breath.

Her short nails tap soundlessly against each other. “I lied to you about the first time I met Donny.”

I blink. “Okay.”

“We met…but him collapsing in the driveway happened weeks later.”

“Later than what?” My gut tickles a warning.

She takes a deep breath—and out spills a story that makes me see red. Her safe space violated. Some loser-druggie’s hands all over her. Pinning her, intent on more. Donny, still healthy and strong, barreling to the rescue.

I could have gone the rest of my life without these images in my brain.

I drop my chin. What about her brain? And Donny? Of course she loves him like she does. Everything makes sense now.

Surely she doesn’t think I would do such a thing?

“Sydnee, please don’t tell me you think that I would ever…”

Her smile sweeps in, soft and teeming with reassurance. “Never, Gray. Never.” She sighs. “At least not with the rational part of my mind. There were a couple other times, with Dad’s or Max’s friends…”

At my sharp intake, she squeezes my hand. “Similar, but nothing that ever went as far as what happened that day.” She lifts slim shoulders. “Sometimes my memories still get the better of me.”

Her explanation helps, but I’d be lying if I denied the remaining sting. Not about you, Smith. “I am so sorry, Sydnee. I am. Don’t ever utter the creep’s name, or I’ll—”

“He’s not worth it. But thank you.” Eyes shimmering, she holds my hand tight.

I cup her face. “I will always defend you, Sydnee.”

“You are incredibly sweet.” Her gaze dips. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve this grief. Trust is hard for me. For lots of reasons. I have issues, I guess.”

I smooth her hair along the curve of her cheek, resting my palm on the side of her neck. “I have a few of my own, Syd.” I smile into her shiny eyes. “So this is what you told Tripp?”

I feel her try to withdraw. “Yes, except…I didn’t tell him the entire story either.”

There’s more?

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