She's (Still) Too Young (She’s Too Young #2) Read Online Free Page A

trip…I also wonder if the answers to Veda’s wariness and constant secretive looks in my direction lie in Amsterdam. I certainly won’t get anything out of her, so I have no choice. Because I am going to find out what’s keeping her from trusting me, despite my assurances that I’ll never keep anything from her again. I sense her feelings for me. I know they’re strong and a little wild to match our combined natures, but something is holding her back.
    I’ll stop at nothing to find out what it is. My gut is telling me unraveling the mystery of my girlfriend’s inner workings begins with boarding my jet.
    “I have a few things to take care of in my office,” I say, laying a kiss on her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. “I’ll meet you downstairs in an hour?”
    “Okay,” she murmurs. I think that’s all she’s going to say and begin to stand, but she pulls me back down on top of her without warning, her slight arms doing their best to band the full way around my back, but they don’t quite make it. “We don’t have to go anywhere, you know. It’s such a sweet, thoughtful gift, but I don’t want to be anywhere else in the world except right here with you.”
    The note of panic lacing between the sincerity in her voice batters me in the sternum. I should call off the trip. Her reaction is nothing like I was anticipating, and she’s scared of something. Seeing her scared is like having my liver boiled in hot oil, but I can’t put to rest the premonition that whatever she’s hiding…maybe even the reason she returned to me…is on the other side of this trip. If we’re going to move on and have the kind of relationship I dream about with her, we have to face every obstacle in front of us.
    “We will be together. We’ll just be in another country. It’s a couple of days to spend with your father and then we’ll be home.” I brush a stray blonde hair out of her face. “Is there something you want to tell me, angel? Whatever it is, we would be fine.”
    “You say that, but…”
    “But what?” I press, begging her to save us whatever shit is flying in our direction and be honest. Just like I’m being when I say, “There is nothing— nothing —that I would let come between us, Veda. I went mad when you left. I’m still half crazed just remembering what being without you felt like.” I brush my thumbs down her cheeks, letting them linger at the corners of her mouth. “If you tried to kill me in my sleep, I would still slide in beside you the next night. And the one after that. You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”
    She turns her face into my hand, a degree of calm seeming to settle over her and something inside me breathes a sigh of relief over seeing her relaxed. “I really do love you, Ramsey. So much,” she murmurs, almost to herself. “We’ll be fine. We will.”
    But as I slide off her body and gather her clothes, handing them to her so she can dress and follow me back into the house, that faraway look is back in her eyes.
    *     *     *
    Should I feel like a creep for watching Veda sleep on the plane?
    Well, fuck it. I don’t care.
    For most of the seven-hour flight, I worked, speaking into the phone as quietly as possible so I wouldn’t wake up the angel where she slept, curled up on the white leather couch that lines the cabin wall. She was more fitful than usual, and by the time we land, there is a pit yawning wide in my stomach. But when I wake her, she stretches out like a lazy kitten and smiles so beautifully, I wonder if I imagined the foreboding I experienced back on the rooftop in Manhattan. It seems as though her birthday party took place a year ago rather than a matter of mere hours. Especially because it’s late afternoon in Amsterdam when we disembark the plane and I guide Veda into the waiting black chauffeured car.
    “Are we staying with my father?” Her voice is bright, but she’s looking out the window, watching the various canals of the city