Heart of Thorns (Shadow Valley U Book 2)
Heart of Thorns: Chapter 15

I click my phone off and sigh.

The mirror doesn’t play tricks. This is as good as it gets. It’s been a long time since I’ve been concerned with how I dress. Even before the accident, I didn’t let a date or some guy influence how I wanted to dress, yet my stomach fills with dread the longer I stare at myself.

Black jeans, black oversized sweater, and my black boots. The ones with the loose laces and the orthotics from my physical therapist to help correct my limp.

“You look fine.”

I eye Lydia leaning against the doorway and turn with a huff. “Good, because I’m not changing.”

I don’t even know why I’m so concerned over this. It’s not like I’m trying to impress Thorne.

“I will say…” Lydia enters my room and sits on my bed, which isn’t the norm for us. However, since I let her in on my plan to fake date Thorne, we’ve been much friendlier than usual. My usual grumpiness has gone down a notch. “You are not Thorne’s type.”

I look at the mirror again. “What is his type?”

“Rich girls,” she says. “You know, the type with bleach-blonde hair, fake boobs at the age of nineteen, caked-on makeup, and high-end clothes with matching purses.”

A choked laugh falls from my mouth. I spin with my eyebrows raised high. “Well he’s going to be disappointed to see me then.”

Lydia playfully rolls her eyes. “Yeah right, Hart. You’re hot and you have this black cat vibe about you. I think you excite Thorne. Whether this is a fake relationship or not.”

Yeah, okay.

“Do you want me to go with you?” she asks, softening her voice.

I sigh. “No, it’s fine. I have to be a big girl, I guess.”

She laughs.

“I’ll bring you back some pizza.”

“Extra cheese, please.”

I shoot her a thumbs-up, grab my bag, and head straight for doom.

The pizzeria is packed.

I’ve been here a few times with Ben, but everything from before seems so distant. Almost as if it was another life. The girl I used to be is a fuzzy dream that lies on the outer parts of my brain.

In fact, I completely forget how to act.

What do I do?

My heart skips every other beat as I stand near the door. I’m immobile.

“Briar?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Really?

I move slightly, and there stands my ex-boyfriend. As if the night couldn’t get worse.

I shift in my boots with anger rushing to the soles of my feet. I wonder what he’d do if I just pretended he didn’t exist?

He clears his throat. Fine.

“Ben.” His name comes out of my mouth like boredom.

I look for Thorne. He’s my boyfriend. Isn’t this the part where he swoops in and saves the day?

“How have you been?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I give him a once-over.

I should ask him how he’s been since sticking his tongue down another girl’s throat while he was still my boyfriend—just a few weeks after my accident—but instead, I mumble, “Better without you.”

“What was that?” he asks, leaning in close.

I back away and hit something hard from behind. Goosebumps cover me from head to toe.

It doesn’t take me long to notice that there’s a lot of people here.

Every booth is filled.

There are two exits, and I mentally track the path I’d take if there were a fire.

God. Get it together, Briar.

I should be admitted, truly.

“Hey.” A sturdy hand collides with mine, and a rush of warmth spreads over my goosebumps. My fingers intertwine against his like they knew it was Thorne before my head did.

“Hi,” I whisper.

My breathing is shaky, and he must notice because his attention immediately falls to my mouth.

“How do you two know each other?” Ben questions, still standing entirely too close.

Ready or not, here we come.

Having Thorne’s hand in mine, backing me, gives me the strength that I need to get my shit together.

“We’re seeing each other.” I face Ben again and soak in the shock on his face.

His eyebrows shoot to the sky, and confusion flickers over his features. He swings his gaze to his teammate in betrayal.

“You’re dating Briar?” he asks. “Since when?”

Thorne narrows his gaze “Since when do you care who I’m seeing, Patterson?”

I squeeze Thorne’s hand, and he quickly glances down at me. He scours my expression, then returns to glare at his teammate.

It doesn’t take long for Ben to grumble and walk away.

Or should I say stalk away.

Thorne nudges his elbow against my arm. “You want to explain that?”

He smells good. I gulp and ignore the tug in my lower belly.

“Ben is my ex.”

“Oh.” He seems surprised. His gaze moves across the restaurant and lands on Ben.

Everyone is staring at us.

Ben included.

“This is awkward,” I admit.

I try to pull my hand away, but Thorne’s fingers tighten against mine.

“What is? The way your ex, who just so happens to be my teammate, is staring at me like I’ve just stolen something that’s his?” He chuckles.

If I’m not mistaken, Thorne rather enjoys this.

I, however, do not.

I hiss between my teeth. “I am not his.”

Thorne hums. “I suspect some animosity, grumpy cat. Please do tell. Who broke up with who?”

My cheeks warm at the thought of seeing Ben’s mouth on someone else’s when we were still very much together.

“I don’t like the look on your face,” Thorne notes.

“And I don’t like how everyone in this pizzeria is staring at us.” I lower my voice and angle myself toward him. “Do something.”

A cheeky grin appears. “Like what? Kiss you?”

I gasp. “What? No! I said no kissing.”

He chuckles quietly. “I was kidding. Though, it’d be fun to see the anger on Ben’s face afterward.”

True, but no.

“Should we sit or something?” I ask, desperate to get out of the spotlight.

Thorne, who suddenly seems nervous, nods curtly. “I guess.”

“What do you mean, you guess?” I whisper angrily. “You’re the one who is supposed to know what to do.”

Thorne begins tugging me toward a back booth full of football players and their girlfriends. I recognize a few of the girls but I’m not close enough to any of them to know their names.

“Who said I know what to do?” he asks. “You’re the one who’s been in a relationship before.”

From the outside, it probably seems like we’re just talking quietly to each other. But really, we’re arguing like an old married couple.

“So have you!” I argue.

Thorne stops me before getting any closer to his table full of friends. I zero in on the crease of confusion between his eyebrows.

“Says who?”

I pause and try to think. Surely he’s had a girlfriend before, right? I search his face, and there isn’t a single flaw on there. All I see is hesitation and unease.

“I’ve never had a steady girlfriend.” He glances away, like he’s embarrassed. “And I certainly do not consider the girls my parents force me to date girlfriends.”

Thorne continues pulling me toward the table. He’s walking slow enough that I don’t have to half drag my injured knee with me. I don’t know if he’s doing that to save me the trouble, or if he’s doing it to save himself the trouble of having a gimp for a girlfriend.

Before we sit and likely make fools of ourselves, causing everyone to question our relationship, he leans in close. “I don’t consider the girls I fuck my girlfriends either. So, you’re my first, grumpy cat.”

A flush works its way up my neck and stays long after his warm breath disappears from my skin.

I hope he thinks I’m flustered because I’m being introduced to his group of friends as his girlfriend and not because I’m affected by the thought of him fucking someone.

Unfortunately, I think it’s a little of both.