23
Ian
Blake’s face went white. I knew it was going to be bad if she ever found out I was Woody, but I didn’t know quite how bad until all the color drained from her face.
“Sit, babe,” I said, gently guiding her to the table right behind her. She let me hold her elbow but shook me off as soon as she was seated.
“You’re lying. How the hell did you find out about him?”
I shook my head and pulled out my phone. I unlocked it, opened the app, and handed it to her. She glared up at me, then glanced at the phone.
“What is this, Ian?”
“Read them, Blake. I couldn’t have this if I wasn’t the one you were talking to.”
She finally took my phone and scrolled through the months of messages we traded. Her hands shook when she handed the phone back to me. “Why?”
I knew what she was asking. Why di
