Page 47 of False Start

I searched my memory of that last day I saw him, trying to remember if Kyle had worn any physical signs of the abuse I knew he’d suffered at his father’s hand.

But all I remembered was the hard stone of his gaze.

And now, I wondered if I’d misinterpreted it all.

Even if you didn’t choose me.

What didthatmean?

I’d thought he was upset with me for getting pregnant. I thought he blamed me for ruining his life.

I thought he was running from me because he didn’t want me.

Now, I had no idea what to think.

But I had a weekend with him to find out the truth.

And that was exactly what I intended to do.

Kyle

It was the calm before the storm.

I felt it as we walked into the hotel lobby of a boutique luxury hotel in downtown Denver. There was no press waiting when we arrived, which meant somehow Giana had kept the wedding under wraps — at least for now. It also seemed like she and Clay had hired a full staff of security. They were everywhere, from where the black car dropped us off to where we walked now to check in.

It felt like we slipped into our own little bubble of the world when we walked through those revolving doors, and it was quiet in the lobby. Peaceful.

But I knew that wouldn’t last long.

Someone had already taken our luggage, and without anything to hold onto, Madelyn folded her arms over herself. She looked around at the high-hanging chandeliers, the lush gem tones of the rich furniture, and the impressive textures of the walls and floors — marble and wood, everything polished to shine.

I told myself I was putting on a show when I carefully threaded my hand over her forearm and pulled her to a stop, waiting until she looked up at me.

Her soft brown eyes were wide as they swept over me, and the corner of my mouth ticked up before I tucked her hair behind one ear. My knuckles grazed her neck when I did, and I didn’t miss the goosebumps that paraded over her skin.

God,I loved that sight. I loved the thought that maybe that little flush on her cheeks wasn’t completely pretend.

“How are you?” I asked.

“Good,” she said, and then forced a smile. “Great.”

I arched a brow. “What was that rule you made when we were younger?” I asked, and then hung a hand on my hip and tried to imitate her. “No lying. Lying is the highest offense punishable by purple nurple.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle when I said it, my imitation of her voice leaking out of me like a deflating balloon. It had been hilarious the first time she’d said it to me — even more so when she’d followed through on that promise and twisted my nipples so hard I yelped the first time I’d tried to lie to her.

But Madelyn didn’t even smile.

Her eyes were a bit hollow as she said, “Sometimes the truth has worse consequences than that.”

I frowned, my heart stuttering, and everything she’d said on the plane came rushing back to me.

I felt it again.

It was the calm before the storm.

This exact same feeling had washed over me on that fateful weekend when I was sixteen, the weekend that everything changed.

I had been sick back then, a tornado of teenage hormones and emotions. I could feel Madelyn pulling away from me. I could feel her rationalizing how I was too young for her, how she was about to go to college and do something with her life while I was stuck in high school for another two years.