Shattered Truths (Lies, Hearts and Truths, #3)

by H. Hunting

“Your reaction time is incredible,” I say, like an idiot. “Seriously? You’re lucky I didn’t dent your Jeep, asshole.” The last thing I should do is smile, but I can’t help it. “Damn. You’re gorgeous, with a sharp tongue, and you play hockey? This is divine intervention. You’re basically the woman of my dreams.”

“We’re destined to know each other. I like you. I think you’re fucking gorgeous. I want your digits so I can tell you that in awkward text messages.”

“Make a wish.” “Wishes lead to disappointment.” “Wishes are hope with wings,” I counter. “Make one.”

But if you don’t at least give it a shot, you’ll never know. And isn’t that worse? The never knowing what could have been if you’d just taken a chance? Fear is hope’s nemesis. It doesn’t belong in this battle.”

“I reserve my seriousness for skate practice and school. The rest of life needs a good dose of who gives a fuck.”

“Okay. Deal. Fingerbang Friday is on like Donkey Kong.”

Here I am telling you wishes are hope with wings, and you’re used to having yours clipped.”

“Fingerbang Friday is my favorite,” I mumble. “Just wait. Tongue-Fuck Tuesday is gonna blow your mind.”

Words leave invisible wounds, the kind that won’t heal no matter how much time passes. They fester and ooze and infect the heart. So anytime someone tries to get inside it, it infects them too.

“You don’t have to fight every fight with an army of one, Winter. Just remember that, okay?”

“Your heart has too many cracks already, Snowflake. Don’t go shattering it by carrying burdens you don’t deserve.”

“What if I want to savor this experience? It isn’t every day I get to have hot sex with an Olympic medalist.” “You can savor later. Right now, I need to fuck-ebrate.” “Fuck-ebrate? Did you come up with that on your own or—”

“Whatever you need,” I murmur. “However you need it,” she whispers. “I’ll give it to you,” we say together. “Just you.”