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“Sometimes it’s hard to see what’s right in front of your face,” Jensen murmurs, her gaze meeting mine.

“Well, I’m seeing what’s in front of my face right now, and I like it.” I slip my arm around her waist and pull her in close. “I like it a lot.”

She rests her hand on my chest, smiling up at me. “You’re going to get us in trouble again.”

“No way. We can sneak off somewhere, and no one will find us,” I say, an idea forming.

“I don’t know. We should probably go try and talk to Addie…”

“Nah, we’ll find her later. Come on.” I take Jensen’s hand and start leading her toward the stairway up to the second floor, where all the bedrooms are. “I want to show you something.”

“I’m sure you do,” she says with a little laugh.

I crack open the door and pull Jensen into the room with me, shutting and locking the door behind her. The room is completely shrouded in darkness and I reach out, feel along the bed as I make my way, switching on the lamp when I get to the bedside table. “Well, what do you think?”

She looks around the room, at the old sports posters on the wall, the bookshelf with the trophies covering the top shelf, a giant framed photo of me and the rest of the varsity basketball team dominating one wall.

“Is this your old bedroom?” she asks.

“Yeah.” I come up behind her and slip my arms around her waist, resting my chin on her shoulder. “Do you like it?”

She leans into me, still checking e

verything out. “It looks like a typical teenage boy’s room.”

I try to take it in like I’ve never seen this room before, but it’s hard. I pretty much grew up here. We moved in to this house when I was in middle school, after Diane told Dad she was tired of living in a “dead woman’s house”.

She’s so nice, isn’t she?

Besides, the old house wasn’t big enough for Diane. She wanted a monster mansion and my dad gave it to her.

“Yeah, it does look like a typical teenage boy’s room,” I finally say.

“Your parents didn’t try to turn this room into something else once you left home?” Jensen asks.

“They’ve got so many guest bedrooms in this house, they don’t need another one,” I say, chuckling.

“Must be nice.” Her voice is the slightest bit sarcastic, yet also tinged with envy.

“It is. I’m lucky.” I pull away from her slightly so I can turn her around to face me. “I know I take advantage of my luck.”

She frowns. “How so?”

“I just…do what I want, spend what I want, and I don’t have to worry about it. I’ve been taken care of my whole life.” I smile and shake my head. “In other words, I’m spoiled rotten. I honestly don’t know what you see in me.”

“You’re not all bad, Montgomery,” she teases, her voice light.

“You think?” I’m being serious, and I think she senses it.

She nods, her expression solemn. “Trust me, I know.”

I glance over at my queen-size bed before I return my gaze to her. “Want to try out my childhood bed?”

She makes a face, wrinkling her nose. “When you put it like that, it sounds kind of gross.”

“I technically didn’t get this bed until I was fourteen, so…” I grab her hand and lead her over to the bed, sitting down on the edge of the mattress and spreading my legs so she’s standing in between them. “I wish we could leave.”

“We just barely got here.”


Tags: Monica Murphy Damaged Hearts Romance