Page 22 of Puck Me, Valentine
“Because I told you,” he says quietly. “You don’t go anywhere alone until this is sorted.”
“Well, I can take care of myself.”
“Clearly.” His voice is dry, almost mocking, but there’s an edge to it I don’t recognize. “Is that why you were about to walk into the worst part of town alone at night?”
“I was trying to lose whoever was following me!”
“That was me.”
“I know that now!”
We’re almost shouting at each other, but keeping our voices low enough not to attract attention.
8
Chapter 8
“Found the trolls behind our ‘fan mail’ yet, Batman? Or is your detective work limited to just following me around and making my life miserable?”
The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, and I immediately want to bang my head against the nearest wall.
Why am I even talking to him after what happened?It’s the nerves. I always let my tongue run away with me when I’m stressed.
Devlin doesn’t respond. Not a word, not a muscle twitch, nothing. He just stands there, staring at me with those dark, unreadable eyes.
The silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating.
“You know what?” I snap, my voice sharper than I intend. “I’m heading home, and you do whatever you want. Just don’t walk beside me, got it? I don’t want to see you.”
I turn and start walking, my footsteps loud against the pavement.
Behind me, I hear his footsteps follow.
The entire walk back, Devlin keeps his distance—maybe ten feet behind me, obeying my instruction not to walk beside me. And somehow that makes everything worse. The fact that he’s following my orders, that he’s staying back there in the shadows like some kind of bodyguard I never asked for.
It makes me furious.
Just steps from my front door, I spin on my heel to face him.
“Right, that’s it. Now get lost.”
He doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Just stands there like a statue.
“So when can I expect you to call my brother?”
Something flickers across his face, but he holds it back and remains silent.
“You know, I have to give you credit,” I continue, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “You genuinely impress me, because I didn’t know you could keep your precious opinions to yourself for so long. I had no idea you were capable of staying quiet this long.”
“It’ll be better this way.” His voice is quiet but firm.
A shiver runs through my entire body at the sound.
I watch as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and the movement only emphasizes the power of his muscular legs, the coiled tension in his frame.
“You’ve been fussing about with those animals until late,” he says, and I hate how suddenly mature he sounds. “Go get some rest now.”
“I really have no idea why you hate my animals and the rescue room.” My voice cracks slightly. “Why you can’t stand me—I get that. But not them.”
