“Yeah, we both know Ralph won’t give a rat’s ass what Jaden does.”

Jenna’s comment surprised me and I glanced at her, fumbling for something to say. “My mom with be home. It’ll be fine. You’ll be right back to get me.”

“Yeah. Be careful.” Jenna dropped me in front of my house. “I’ll see you in an hour,” she said before she drove away.

Jaden was out of his car before the tires finished squealing in my driveway. And he wasn’t happy.

Me: Is your mom home?

Brody: No. Why?

Me: Just asking. Gotta go.

Brody: Everything ok?

Me: Yeah. See you later.

Brody: K.

Jamming my phone in my pocket, I slipped out of my bedroom. I crept through the house and out of the sunroom door. If I rode my bike to the field between our subdivisions, I could cut through the yards and get to Brody’s house quicker than if I stayed on the roads.

I rode my bike to the field. There was a trail carved out where neighborhood kids rode their bikes, jumping off ramps made out of cinder blocks and old plywood. I flew down the trail, dodging the bike ramps. My teeth clamped together when my bike jumped over the bumps and ruts in the ground. Thank goodness, I had a mountain bike. Nothing else would have been able to handle the wicked trail. When I got across the field, I dumped my bike against a fence before jumping it.

I darted through the backyard, jumping over toy cars, pails, and shovels littering the ground next to a sandbox. When I came to the road, I turned right, making my way to Chestnut Trail and taking a left. I ran to the end of the street where a beautiful Victorian house sat. Climbing the stairs to the large wraparound porch, I bolted to his door, sagging against it. I stood there, trying to catch my breath, blinking back the waves of nausea and dizziness washing over me. I felt like I’d been on a tilt-a-whirl a few hundred times. I could barely walk straight I was surprised I’d made it to his house at all.

I was still propped against the door when the porch light flickered on. I took a big step backward just as Brody pulled the door open. He stood there in nothing but a pair of sweatpants.

Oh, this wasn’t a good idea. He’s half-naked and looks so much better in person than in my fantasies—all of which involve him.

“Willow? What’s wrong?”

I stepped into the light streaming from the door. Brody’s face hardened. I could see his jaw clenching and unclenching.

“I’m gonna kill that sorry son-of-a-bitch.” He reached out and pulled me gently into the house, shutting and locking the door behind me. “What happened?”

I started to cry. Not little tears. I sobbed. Brody wrapped me in his arms, my head against his chest. I could hear his heart beating a steady rhythm beneath my ear. The warmth of his skin enveloped me, and I lost myself in him. He held me like that for a while—I don’t know how long—smoothing my hair from my face or running his fingers up and down my back.

When my sobs turned to soft sniffles, he led me to the couch. “Sit down and tell me what happened,” he said and sat next me, angling his body toward me.

“I need to use the restroom.”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.” He caught my hand in his when I stood.

“Brody, I really need to use the restroom first.” He let go of my hand. “Will you text Jenna and let her know I’m here?” I asked over my shoulder as I walked into the hall bathroom.

Splashing cool water on my face, I wiped the running mascara from my eyes. Then I stood and stared at the face looking back at me.

My eye had a jagged cut above it. Dried blood was smeared over the side of my face. Pieces of hair were stuck in it. The top lid on my eye was already turning a deep purple and swelling. My lip was bleeding where I bit down on it when he hit me, but so far, it wasn’t swelling. I didn’t look half as bad as I felt.

I finished in the bathroom and walked into the hall. The room tilted to the left and the lights blinked on and off. I felt like I was twirling around and around like I’d done playing as a child.

“Brody?”

He was there in an instant. At least, it seemed instantaneous. But then again, I wasn’t exactly sure what had happened. One second I called out to him and then I turned, realizing I was lying on the floor in his arms.

“What happened?” I whispered.

“You passed out. Let’s go. I’m taking you to the emergency room.”

“No!”

“Willow, you have a gash on the back of your head. Your hair is matted with blood. You probably need stitches. You need to see a doctor.”

“No. I’m not going to the hospital. I can’t. I came here because I thought I could trust you.”

“You can trust me. You can always trust me, but I really think you need to see a doctor.”

“No.”

Brody sighed and helped me up. “Are you still dizzy?”

“Not as long as you’re holding me up.” I smiled at him.

“Let’s go upstairs. I think there’s a first aid kit up there.” Brody helped me up the winding stairway and into the master bath. “Sit here.” He pulled out a small bench covered in pink brocade.

“I can’t sit there. I’ll get it dirty.”

“It’s fine. Sit.”

“Stop being so bossy, Ace.”

“Then stop being so damn pigheaded and let me take you to the hospital,” he snapped.

His arm darted out in front of me, and I flinched away.

“Shit, Willow, I was just turning the sink on. You’re not scared of me, are you? Because I’d never—”

“No, I’m not scared of you. You make me feel safe. That’s why I came.”

Brody straddled the bench next to me and cupped my cheek in his hand. He rubbed his thumb lightly over my skin. His eyes never left mine as he leaned forward. Our mouths were so close that I could smell his minty breath. I dropped my eyes from his and turned my face away.

He sighed and kissed the area in front of my ear lobe. I tried to hide the shiver that coursed through my body at the feel of his lips against my skin.

He nudged my face so I was looking at him. “You’re so beautiful.”

I let out a half laugh, half sob. “I’m mangled.” I was crying again. How could he think I was beautiful? I was damaged. Inside and out.

Brody shook his head, his hand still cupping my face. “I’m looking at a beautiful girl sitting in front of me, one that has driven me wild since the day I met her. You’re so freakin’ amazing and somehow, you’ve missed the memo. You’re kind, funny, intelligent, and so damn gorgeous. You’re perfect, Willow, every part of you.”

“I’m not perfect,” I whispered.

“You’re perfect for me.”

Breathe. You’re strong. Brody makes you stronger. Breathe.

Looking into his eyes, I smiled. I could feel butterflies filling my stomach—the colorful kind. Beautiful and graceful. No one had ever made me feel as beautiful as Brody did, as wanted, as loved.

“You’re so cute when you blush.” He smiled, rubbing his thumb over my pink cheek. “Come on, sit next to the tub.”

“What are we doing?”

“I want to clean the cut on your head and see how bad it is,” he said, throwing towels on the steps leading up to the jetted soaking tub.

“Wow, this is an awesome tub.”

“Do you want to take a bath and wash the blood away?”

“Um…” I bit my bottom lip, looking anywhere but at him.

“I meant you could take a bath. You. Alone. By yourself.” He shifted from one foot to the other, his cheeks turning slightly pink. “Not that I wouldn’t take a bath with you, you know, if you asked me. You’d have to ask real nice.” He laced his fingers together and put his hands behind his head, stretching his arms.

Watching his muscles stretch made all rational thought drain from my head. Seconds ticked by, and Brody gave me a concerned looked when I didn’t answer. I forced myself to look away and concentrate on the conversation. “No, that’s okay. Thanks though.”