Page 10 of My Girl to Ruin

The words hit exactly where they’re meant to. My cheeks flush instantly, heat rushing through me as I look away for a second.

“Somebody held the front door for me,” he says. “Didn’t ask who I was. Didn’t ask where I was going.” His jaw sets. “And your lock’s been painted over so many times the bolt doesn’t seat. I pushed it open with two fingers.”

Something in his voice has changed. It isn’t smug anymore.

“That’s the part I want you thinking about,” he says. “Not me. Anybody.”

“I…” I exhale, pressing my lips together before meeting his gaze again. “I shouldn’t have come to your place like that. That part’s on me.”

The admission feels heavier than it should. “I thought you were still the same. But I was wrong,” I say quietly. “And you didn’t need to explain anything. I get it now.”

The words sit between us, more final than I expected. “I won’t bother you again,” I add, and it costs me everything I have to get it out.

Something flickers across his face. Gone just as quickly. “Don’t,” he says, low and rough.

The declaration stops me completely. I watch him exhale slowly, dragging a hand over the back of his neck.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said. I know I hurt you, and I’m sorry.”

I blink, caught off guard.

“I remembered Tyler,” he continues, his voice quieter now, but no less heavy. “In that moment. And it…” He pauses, jaw clenching. “It messed with my head.”

Something inside me softens immediately. Because I understand that. Of course, I do.

“There’s no one he trusted more than you,” I say gently, stepping a little closer without realizing it. “You were like brothers.”

His gaze drops for a second, like he doesn’t want to hear it.

“But he also knew you,” I continue, my voice steady now. “Knew how careful you are. How you think through everything. He wouldn’t have blamed you. He would’ve wanted you to be happy,” I add, softly. “Even if it surprised him a little at first.”

A small, almost sad smile touches my lips at that, the implication hanging quietly between us.

“You were sixteen,” he says. It isn’t an argument. It’s a fact he’s setting down between us to see what I do with it.

“I’m not sixteen.”

“I know.” His voice roughens on it. “That’s not the part that stops me.”

“Then what does?”

He’s quiet for a long moment. “He asked me to look after you,” he says finally. “Not like this.”

“He asked you to make sure I was okay.” I take another step. “Do I look okay to you, Lachlan?”

Something moves behind his eyes. He doesn’t answer.

His eyes snap back to mine. Searching. But I don’t look away.

Then he turns for the door.

“I should go,” he says.

Just like that. Like he didn’t just crack something open inside me again. Frustration flares, hot and immediate, but I swallow it down. I can’t force him to stay. And I can’t make him feel anything he doesn’t want to.

“Okay,” I say quietly.

He nods once and walks to the door. My chest tightens as he reaches for the handle. This is it. He’s leaving.