Page 43 of Runaway Road (Runaway 1)

Not Brooks.

He was here as the protector. The man who’d already bought me a phone, not stolen the one I’d chosen to leave behind. He wouldn’t leave me alone with Thomas, maybe because he sensed I didn’t want him to go.

“I can’t change your mind,” Thomas said.

I shook my head. “No.”

Thomas studied my face, his g

aze drifting over my mouth and up my nose. Then across my forehead and down my cheek. What was he doing? Was he memorizing me?

Maybe he finally understood this was the end.

“Goodbye, Thomas.”

“If you change your mind—”

“I won’t.”

He dropped his chin, then looked up with a familiar, hardened stare. That shrewd, calculating gaze I’d seen so often at his office was fixed firmly in place. Without another word, Thomas shot a glare at Brooks, then strode to his car.

I held my breath, waiting until the vehicle’s red taillights flashed and sped away from the curb. Then when I blew out all the air from my lungs, the weight of our divorce lifted.

Done. It was finally done.

My foot bumped the broken phone on the concrete. I bent and picked up the shattered pieces.

“So that’s the ex?” Brooks asked.

“That’s him.”

“I’m starting to see why you ran away.”

I smiled. “We weren’t a good fit. I tried to fit into his life for a while, but . . .”

“You need to be free.”

How was it that a man I’d known for a week knew me better than the man I’d lived with for years? This stunning, bold man saw me for who I was, not who I’d been pretending to be.

I’d tried so hard to fit into Thomas’s life. But we were from different worlds. Thomas wore his wealth like a second skin. Even today, dressed in slacks and a light blue dress shirt, he exuded a level of class that was in his blood. He’d gone to a private school and his family spent Christmas in Fiji. His first car had been a Mercedes. He had two private planes.

I didn’t want to fit into that world, where I was expected to act and speak a certain way.

I needed to be free.

“Thanks.” I smiled at Brooks, admiring his clean-shaven face.

“For what?”

“For getting it. Not many do.”

The corner of his mouth turned up. “You’re one of a kind, Londyn McCormack. I’ve never met another person like you.”

Thomas had said something similar when we’d met. Yet he’d tried to change me anyway. And shame on me, I’d let him. But not Brooks. He said those words with so much appreciation, I had a hard time breathing.

“Still on for dinner?” he asked.

I nodded, unable to speak.