Page 46 of Stupid Matchmaking Love

I toss my head back and laugh. “Trust me, the last thing you are is fat.”

She smiles. “Thanks.”

“It’s true, and don’t think a little thanks will get you out of telling me what’s on your mind—if you want to, that is. I won’t force anything out of you.”

Cristina takes a small bite of salad. “Tell me about your family.”

It’s my turn to be floored. “My family?”

“Yeah. Do you have any brothers or more sisters?”

“No just the two, but one of them died when we were young.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs.

“It’s okay,” I tell her, even as a familiar tension builds up in my shoulders, the same spot where she so adeptly noticed I was holding on to something. “She passed away when we were young—had leukemia and fought hard for a long time, before she just couldn’t fight anymore.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay, like I said. You couldn’t know unless you asked.”

“No, I could’ve waited for you to tell me.”

“Now what’s the fun in that? Part of bonding with someone is letting them see your vulnerabilities and hoping they don’t use them against you.”

I mean it as a joke, but her shoulders lock, her jaw tightens, and something shutters behind her eyes.

Hoping they don’t use them against you.

Exactly how badly did Jace hurt her? Did he wield trust as a weapon?

This may not even have to do with him, but it’s got to do with someone—and they’ve got a hold on her so tight it doesn’t look like she’ll be ready let go anytime soon.

But damn, I want to be part of what helps her get over it.

Calm down, Maddox. You don’t even know this girl, and your luck in relationships is shit.

A few minutes pass before Cristina glances at the other tables. “Looks like Callie and Jeff are getting along.”

I follow her gaze and see the pair talking animatedly. “Yeah, I ran into them in the elevator. They, um, seem to have really hit it off.”

“Did they know each other before?”

“No, they just met, started opening up immediately.”

Her brow cocks. “Must be nice to be so open.”

“Yeah,” I reply warily, “must be. You know, for someone who makes Bitty Beings, you’ve got a clam shell stuck to your mouth.”

She barks a laugh, and I feel it in my whole chest. “That made no sense. What’s it supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re locked up tight.”

“Fine. What would you like to know?”

“Anything you want to tell me.” I lean back in my chair. “I’m all yours.”

Her neck flushes in embarrassment, but I’m not taking those words back. “All right, um, my great-aunt and uncle raised me.”