Buried secrets, two girls with the same face, and a boy who loved too much.
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When Travis and Nicole meet on a bus for the first time, he thinks she's his ex, Rachel, who broke his heart two years ago. But he doesn't understand why she's pretendin...
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LONG AFTER I'D DROPPED HER off and returned to my room, the image of her pale face and slumped shoulders wouldn't leave my mind.
I sank onto my bed with a deep breath, refusing to turn on the light. I wanted to brood in the darkness.
The raw anguish in her eyes was a wound straight to my heart, and I knew I'd never cause her such torture again. Not when I could help it.
I should feel okay and flattered that she'd needed me like I needed her, but I couldn't, not when I had a glimpse of the pain she'd gone through but hidden so well. I felt like an ass, and I couldn't help being livid with myself.
I'd held her hand in mine, drawing soft circles at the back of her hand as I drove her home. It had soothed her, just as I wished, and she'd closed her eyes and napped for some short minutes in the car.
It was a pain to wake her up, but it'd have been more painful if she slept deeply only for me to wake her up, so I got out of the car, opened her door, and softly brushed a hand across her cheek to wake her up.
She looked confused at first before she quickly absorbed her surroundings. I took her hand and gently led her home.
My heart clenched as I thought back to the beach house, suddenly seeing how lonely she must've felt with her friend hanging out with Heath and me distancing myself. It made my heart hurt.
But it wasn't even true that I wouldn't look at her. God help me, I couldn't stop looking at her. I had looked at her. All the time.
I had watched her, studying the way she moved gracefully through her dance routines with my sister, the way her small, straight teeth sank into her rosy lip as her brows furrowed with concentration.
I'd watched her dance. It was a battle not to. But I'd been discreet about it, and how could I possibly make her understand that without sounding defensive?
I didn't want to be an asshole and come across as if I was dismissing her feelings, so I kept quiet and simply held her while she cried in my room. And it hurt so much.
She wasn't the type to cry easily, and she desperately tried to hold back but failed, making it even more heart-wrenching.
A groan escaped; I banged my fist on a pillow and restlessly tossed myself.
How on earth was she so good at masking her feelings? It was truly concerning, and it made a feeling of unease settle in my stomach.
"Aren't you coming down for dinner?" Nellie's voice trickled over me like iced water, and I started visibly.
"Learn how to knock, jeez," I muttered with a glare she couldn't see, catching my breath.
She annoyingly flicked on the lights, scrunched her face with disapproval at my sprawled form on the bed. "Will you stop mooning over your girl and come down for food? We're all hungry and waiting."
