Be My Hero (Forbidden Men #3)(24)

"No, really." Grinning, he shook his head. "I'm dead serious. This friend of mine puts on a bitch front constantly." He rolled his eyes. "She was raped a lot when she was young, so she's built up this shitty attitude where she degrades everyone around her. It's become like this security shield she hides behind so no one can see the real her and know how broken she feels."

For a moment, I stared at him, unable to move, or breathe, or react. Sensation left all four of my limbs, as a cold blanket of fear covered me. It was the strangest thing, but I could feel the color drain from my face. I gaped at Pick Ryan, wondering how he'd just described my entire life to a perfect T.

Exposed, unable to hide, and feeling like a frightened rabbit with nowhere to run, my heartbeat fluttered in my chest. I swayed away from him.

And I saw the very moment he realized what he'd done. The smile slid from his lips, and his eyes bulged with shock. "No," he whispered as if absolutely horrified.

Oh my God. This was awful. No one had ever guessed this before. And outside of my parents, no one knew. How could he . . . after less than five minutes of talking to me . . . ? No. There was no way possible he could pluck that out of my brain just like that.

But, holy shit. He had. And he knew it.

"Tink?" His fingers skated across the bar, headed in my direction. I tried to jerk my hand away, but he caught my wrist. "No. Don't."

His voice was so soft and understanding, trying to coddle me as my eyes filled with tears. Dear God, I was going to turn into a blubbering mess if this kept up. "Let go," I pleaded, desperate to stop this.

"But—" He cut himself off even as he refused to let go of my hand. His face blanched of color as he met my gaze. Finally, he squeezed his eyes shut before opening them and saying, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to crack open that little egg of information."

He looked about as torn up as I felt. I swear, if I had burst out really crying in that second, he would've joined me.

The force of his empathy was sweet, but it was a little too much for me.

"It's okay," I reassured him as I tugged at my hand, hoping to break free from his warm grip. "But you need to let me go."

He gave a watery laugh and shifted his gaze toward the ceiling. "Let you go," he repeated as if the suggestion were ludicrous. When he met my gaze, he seemed completely rattled. "Easier said than done, Tink."

Yeah, so that confused the hell out of me. I opened my mouth to ask what he meant when Reese exited the hallway.

"I don't know about anyone else, but I'd like to get the H-E-double-hockey-sticks out of here now."

Mason surged off his stool. "Amen."

"Right behind you," I said. As soon as I broke free of Pick Ryan.

I looked up at him expectantly. He didn't let go, but he eased his grip enough for me to tug myself free, and still he made sure his fingers slid against mine the entire way.

I expected some kind of farewell from him, but he didn't even say goodbye. The sad longing in his brown eyes told me he couldn't say the words; they hurt him too much.

Out of my depth with this man, I ducked my face and turned away, trailing after Reese and Mason. When we reached the doorway, I glanced back, and I was as unsettled as I was thrilled to find his gaze still on me.

It was a quiet, tense ride to the apartment. Trying to make myself as small as possible in the Jeep's back seat because I knew this had to be the worst time ever for Reese and Mason to have a third wheel hanging around, I tried not to think about Mason's tattooed coworker.

But I did. Why had he been so intrigued by me? Why had I been so intrigued back? How had he so easily figured me out? Why . . . ?

Hell, it didn't matter.

Things had changed too much in the last few months. Back in September, I wouldn't have thought a thing about some guy staring at me as if he thought I was amazing. I would've expected it and flashed him a little more skin just to be mean and stir him up. But getting pregnant and finally growing up a little had killed all that. Knowing my face was swollen, my stomach was forty-five inches around, and my waddle was anything but seductive, I had no idea what could be so amazing about me.

But, like I said, it didn't matter.

Once we reached the apartment, I hung back as Mason and Reese went inside together. I was glad they'd already gone to their bedroom by the time I made it through the front door. I wasn't sure if I had the strength to watch the struggle those two had to go through to get over this bump in their lives.

After a quick bathroom break, I holed up in my room and crawled into bed. But even though Baby Girl was settled and not shifting anymore, I still couldn't fall to sleep.

Pick Ryan knew about me. I didn't like that.





Chapter 5


PICK


I found myself following in Lowe's footsteps and emptying my stomach in the nightclub's bathroom, which totally sucked ass. The room reeked of piss, and shit, and an accumulation of other guys' puke. Awesome.

After I was done, I stumbled into the kitchen to wash my hands. The cook had been gone for hours since they closed the kitchen at midnight. The quiet gave me a moment to breathe in some fresh air and digest everything that had just happened and everything I'd learned.

But shit. She was real. She was real. She was really f*cking real.

And pregnant. And Christ, had she really gone through something similar to what Tristy had gone through? The way she'd turned sheet white told me yes, but I was still in complete denial over that part, so I chose to ignore it for the time being.