A Cowboy for Christmas: A Holiday Romance (Country Love Collection) by Dr. Rebecca Sharp

Author:Dr. Rebecca Sharp [Sharp, Dr. Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-12-08T16:00:00+00:00

He looked more shocked by my statement than he had when the tree had fallen on his car.

“What?”

My chin dipped. “It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have said anything. It was a long time—”

With the swift precision of a panther, he was up and standing in front of me, taking my chin and forcing my head up.

“Tell me what you mean,” he rasped, the whole of him more alluring than the fire.

I tipped forward, drawn to something in him that was hot and soothing.

“I mean that senior year, you forgot I existed, Raiden,” I blurted out, the alcohol moving full steam ahead through my veins. “I thought we were friends. We sat next to each other in homeroom. You, apparently, noticed all my notebooks, but then it was like one day, you just forgot I was there.”

His face instantly darkened with shadow like I was dragging him to a time and place that existed underwater, the only way to get there by drowning.

“You didn’t talk to me. One time, in gym class, I was in the middle of the basketball court tying my shoe and you tripped over me like I was invisible.” I hated how everyone else’s laughter still stung.

“Jenny—”

“But the worst was before graduation,” I went on, hardly hearing him now that I was on a one-way street to the past. “We were lining up, and Ms. Simmons told you to go stand behind me because your name is right after mine. Obviously. It was why we had desks next to each other in homeroom.” My throat bobbed, swallowing felt like pure acid. “And you walked over and stood by Gina.”

At least he had the decency to look ashamed, though there was something else to his expression that I couldn’t put my finger on.

“A whole year, Raiden. You sat next to me—stood next to me—for countless moments. Countless roll calls, every day. And at the end of it, you went and stood next to the wrong person.” I rolled my lower lip between my teeth. “Like I didn’t exist.”

He stood still for a beat as though I’d brought him up to the edge of a cliff and he was deciding which way to go. And then he stepped back and walked around me toward the kitchen.

My gaze tracked him.

He grabbed the whiskey bottle and brought it back to the living room with him, taking his mug and pouring himself another healthy dose.

Who knew an apology was that hard?

“It wasn’t that you didn’t exist, Jenny,” he rasped. “That year, I didn’t exist.”

This time, it was him who drained the mug in one steady gulp, releasing a low noise from his chest when he was done—like it wasn’t enough to dull the pain.

I didn’t understand.

“Senior year, my mom died.”

I sucked in a breath, the balloon of anger in my chest bursting with a single sentence.

“Raiden.” I choked on emotion. “I didn’t… know.”

My brain went into overdrive, pushing through the fog for details—a mention—anything—that would’ve given any indication that he’d suffered a trauma like that.

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