The Girl and Her Ren (The Ribbon Duet 2)

“What was what?”

“That kiss.”

“The kiss you asked for.” I cleared my throat, choking on yet more lies. “The promise I made to show you that I won’t go back on my word.”

David strode down the path toward us; Della rushed in a whisper. “That was more than that, and you know it.” She cocked her head; her ponytail messed from where my fingers had ruined it. “That wasn’t you. That was—”

David arrived in hearing distance with blond hair and distrusting blue eyes, and she cut herself off, smiling sweetly at him. “Hi.”

I wanted her to finish. I wanted to tell her that it was me. Just a me she’d never seen before.

But David looked me up and down, his arms crossing harder over his preppy-boy chest. Ignoring Della, he grunted, “Hello.”

My spine straightened, muscles tightened. “Hello.”

We glowered as if we were about to go to war to win the hand of some maiden we both could never hope to deserve.

Della inched between us, closer to me than to him but still playing mediator. “David, I want to re-introduce you to someone. Now, before you say anything, you already know my story, and at the time, you said you understood. I’m asking you to remember your understanding and not—”

“It’s okay, Della.” David let his arms uncross and dangle by his sides. “I get it.” His jaw clenched in a way that said he didn’t get it, but to his credit, he held out his hand for me to shake.

I studied him, not quite ready to let bygones be bygones. Della inconspicuously kicked my boot, and I flicked her a glance.

This meant something to her.

And my entire life was based on the undying need to give her whatever she wanted.

No matter how hard.

I shook his hand firmly, friendly, and my anger swirled into shame. “I know what you must think of me.” David opened his mouth to say something, but I snapped, “And believe me, you have every right.”

We broke apart as he said, slightly surprised, “Look, I only need to know two things, and then I can let what happened between us go. I can overlook how sad Della was the night she came to me for…comfort, and I can accept that she’ll be safe…out there.” His eyes trailed to the city’s horizon where the barest glimpse of trees beckoned.

“All right.” I nodded. “But first, I want to say something.” The words tasted sour, but I forced myself to continue. “Thank you for being the one Della ran to that night. I caused her pain and, out of anyone she could’ve chosen, I’m glad you were the one to help soothe it.”

I glanced at Della, my heart kicking at her wide shock and besotted disbelief. “I never told Della, but I blamed myself. Every damn day. And I left because I was selfish. I only thought of my pain, not the girl I’d promised to keep safe.” I tore my gaze from Della’s, glaring at David once again. “You kept her safe when I didn’t. And for that…I’ll always be grateful.”

I owed him that.

A thank you and an apology.

But I also owed him a warning.

My ability to accept that I was the reason Della ran into his arms only stretched so far. I could be magnanimous because we were leaving. We would never see him again, and that was the only reason I could lower myself to second best before him, to curb my anger and play meek.

But if we ever crossed paths again, if he ever tried to take what was mine…it wouldn’t end so civilised.

David shared a look with Della before clearing his throat. “Eh, thanks.”

I nodded sharply, the heaviness from my backpack reminding me that streets weren’t my home, and it was time to leave.

Holding up his hand, not as judgmental as before, he said, “Okay, the two things I need to know are—”

“David, we talked about this last night.” Della butted in. “And I told you, time and time again, nothing inappropriate happened. You know that. That’s the whole reason I came to you in the first place. He refused to do anything inappropriate. Please…don’t bring it up again.”

“I know what you said, and I trust you. But I want to hear what he has to say.” Pinning me with a glare, he added, “So, Ren. First thing I need to know is did you ever touch her improperly? Ever. In all the years you grew up together. Not an ‘oops’ as you were helping her from the pool or a ‘whoops’ when you were tucking her into bed?”

I stood taller, disgusted. “What sort of sick bastard do you think I am?”

“The one who’s taking a child he raised and hiding her in the jungle to do whatever he damn well wants.”

My chest puffed up, my hands clenching. “First, it isn’t a jungle. Second, she’s no longer a child. Third, I never once looked, touched, or thought of Della in any way other than brotherly affection until she—”