Becca

With a heavy sigh, Shane watches his friends leave the diner. As if suddenly remembering I’m still here,  he runs a hand through his thick brown hair and gives me a sheepish smile.

“Sorry about that, pretty girl. I, uh, better go check on my tables. You go on, get back to work. I’ll come check in on you in a bit.” And then he disappears around the corner toward the kitchen, probably to check on the status of the food for his tables.

The awkward visit from his friends lingers in the air well into the night, like a mist of fog that makes it impossible to think of much else. While their poisonous attitudes were right on par with how they normally act, there were parts of that exchange that hinted at something more. A subcontext hidden beneath Conner’s taunts and Amanda’s desperate need to stake her claim on Shane, while making it clear I don’t belong near one of their own. Given I never wanted to be near him in the first place, I should be okay with that. Yet here I am, like a little kid who’s been told they can’t have something, suddenly wanting to prove her wrong.

What the hell is wrong with me?

For the rest of the night, I watch him work. Traversing the space and managing the job with the ease of a seasoned waiter, rather than someone who only learned the basics a few hours ago. Though his charming smile has returned, I hate that I notice it no longer quite reaches his eyes. Why it bothers me so much is something I’ll have to work out later. As the last customers get up to head home, I shut down the computer. While I appreciate him helping me out by working my shift, I figure the least I can do is help with the side work and closing duties.

“I got it, pretty girl. No need to get up.”

“It’s alright. I’m at a good stopping point. You were right about the computer. I finished the first draft, which puts me ahead of schedule. Means I’m available to help close things out.”

Thankfully, he lets it go. As I busy myself with completing our side work, he tends to the few remaining customers, closing out their checks and then waving them goodbye like you would a long-lost friend you’ve recently reconnected with. Not an hour later, we say our goodbyes to Aunt Rosie, then step outside into the cold December night.

“Here, I should have given this to you while we were inside, but I went to grab an envelope from the office, then got distracted.” He hands me a thick envelope. “It’s everything we made tonight. Now come, I’ll drive you home.”

When he realizes I’m not following, he stops and turns to face me. Still staring at the envelope, I blink a few times, hoping to clear the emotion blurring my vision.

“It’s okay. I-I really am grateful, Shane. You know, for everything you did for me today, but uh,” I point over my shoulder, “I’m only a few blocks down. I’d prefer to walk.” Because right now I don’t trust myself to be alone with him. It’s been so long since I had anyone insist on taking care of me that my emotions are now raw and exposed, like a live wire with frayed ends.

Looking behind me at the street I’m pointing to, he nods a few times before he offers me his hand. “Then come. I’ll walk you to your door.”

“You don’t have to,” is what comes out of my mouth, yet I surprise us both by reaching up and placing my hand in his. Just like when he took my hand earlier, the feel of his warm skin against mine sends sparks of heat racing up my spine.

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to.” His smile grows impossibly bigger, and then, without another word, he leads us toward my small garage apartment.

“What about your car?”

“It’ll be fine. Once I know you’re safely tucked away at home, I’ll come back for it.”

“Won’t your parents be upset you’re late coming home?”

He laughs loudly, then wraps my hand in both of his in a move that makes my insides tingle. “Edward and Catherine Montgomery don’t care what I do or where I go, as long as my actions don’t embarrass them.” When I tense, his worried gaze meets the side of my face.

“Like what happened today? You know, with you helping me and working at the diner?”

“God, no. Fuck. That’s not…” he pauses for a beat, taking a deep breath before he tries again. “Look, you were right before. Wednesday night at your place when you insinuated my friends are assholes. They are. That night I made excuses for them, but after today—the way they acted, how they treated you—I’ll never defend them again. In answer to your question, nothing I did today reflects badly on either me or my parents, and even if by some twisted turn of events it did, I wouldn’t care. The past couple of hours—spending time with you, getting to see you in your element, and watching you deep in concentration, head down working on the computer I lent you—it’s the best day I’ve had in a long time.”

There is a reverence in his voice I don’t quite understand, but his words wash over me in a cloak of heat that thaws my insides. Shane Montgomery is nothing like I expected, which is why even as my common sense screams at me to keep my distance and not trust him, I can’t bring myself to pull my hand away. Not for the first time, I wonder if this is how it happened to my mom.

Did Charles Kline trick her into trusting him?

Was she drawn to him like I am to Shane?

Did she feel the same strong connection and is that what rendered her helpless to fall for the man who would eventually destroy her?

If I’d never met Charles Kline before, I might have said yes to each of those questions, but much like Conner Matthews, my biological father deems himself too good for the likes of pretense. He wouldn’t have wasted his time pretending to be a good guy, nor would he have spent the extra energy wooing a girl. No. Guys like Charles Kline don’t vie for a woman’s attention—like Shane is doing with me—guys like that… they see something they want and they take it.

“We’re here, pretty girl.” Shane’s worried eyes scan over me like he can see every ugly thought running through my mind. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” I croak, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear with my free hand. Just behind him, I catch sight of my front door and realize he’s right. I’m home. Looking down at our hands, our fingers still intertwined, I’m suddenly unable to breathe.

What is wrong with me? Why am I feeling like this? Like I don’t want him to let go, like I’m afraid that if he does, I’ll spend the rest of my life regretting I didn’t hold on.

“Would you like to come in?” What are you doing Becca?

“I’d love nothing more, but you look spooked, pretty girl. Like you’re not quite ready for that step, which is fine. Maybe another time.”

“That step?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, then takes both my hands in his. Rubbing circles with his thumbs over my skin, he explains. “The next step. You and me. In case you weren’t aware, we’re inevitable, pretty girl.”

“Inevitable?”

“Mmhmm. Inevitable. I meant what I said, getting to spend time with you tonight…” Smiling, he shakes his head, and the way he’s looking at me mixes with the feel of his touch, eliciting goosebumps along my skin. “I want more.” He shrugs his shoulders like he can’t find any other way to explain it.

“You and Amanda? Are you together?” What in God’s name are you doing, Becca? It’s none of your business, plus who cares if they’re together? It doesn’t change….

“No. We haven’t been together in over a year. Our families are close. We’ve known each other since we were little, which is why she often forgets to respect my boundaries.”

“They hate me,” I blurt the words and immediately wish I could take them back.

“Believe me when I say it’s not you they hate. I said I wouldn’t defend them and I won’t. All I’ll say is what they hate is the circumstances they are bound to. Someone like you represents something they’ll never have. Freedom to be. To exist outside of a legacy. Outside the microscope that judges us differently, and the expectations attached to our names. What they hate is that they’ll never get the chance to be you.”

“How? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“As someone trapped under the same pressures as them, trust me, it does.” This time it’s him who reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Either way, I don’t care what anyone says or thinks. At the risk of being too forward, I want to be with you, Becca. In all the ways that count. I want to be able to call you in the morning when I wake, just so your voice is the first one I hear. I want to be able to touch you. To hold you in my arms, just because, whenever I see you. I want to be there while you study, bringing you that orange soda you love so much and watching that mesmerizing brain of yours at work. I want to spend my evenings with you, sitting on the couch, watching reruns of Friends or those sappy rom-coms Tommy and Parker complain about—apparently, it’s all Felicia and Jocelyn want to watch.”

When he reaches for my face this time, I can’t help but lean into his touch. “Most of all, I want to kiss you.” He stares at my lips with a longing I feel down to my toes. “I want to feel those lips on mine more than I want my next breath, but not tonight.”

“Why?” I ask before I can stop myself, my mouth once again running away with my thoughts.

“You’ll need to clarify what you mean. Are you asking why I want to kiss you, or are you wondering why I won’t kiss you tonight?” He smirks, though his eyes are alight with awe.

Swallowing hard, I close my eyes and take in a deep breath. I’m so damn embarrassed, but at the same time, desperate for his answer. “Why won’t you kiss me?” I whisper.

“Open your eyes for me.” When he lets go of my hands to cup both sides of my face, my heart skips a beat. When I do as he commands and our eyes lock together, it’s like he’s stolen the breath straight from my lungs. “Do you want me to kiss you, pretty girl?” 

The time that passes as he waits me out is pure torture, but like he’s determined to let this be my choice, he doesn’t make a single move to put me out of my misery. “Yes,” I exhale with a sigh that shoots sparks of need to my lower belly.

Nodding, he stares deep into my eyes. “You have to make me a promise first. Promise me you’ll give us a chance. That tomorrow morning when you wake, you’ll call me and let me hear your voice. If we do this tonight, don’t pull away later. Promise me that starting tomorrow you’ll let me prove to you what I said is true. You and I are meant to be.”

“I promise,” I nod, the buzzing in my blood rendering me powerless to fight against the desperation coursing through my veins. For reasons I don’t understand, I need this. I need him.

With our eyes transfixed on one another, Shane Montgomery leans in, closing the distance between us until those magical lips I never knew I needed graze over mine in a subtle, barely there kiss I feel over every inch of my body. At the sound of my whimper, he moans just before his lips crash into mine with the force of a wave lapping against the shores of paradise. Shane kisses like a man without restraint. Like he’s desperate for air, my lips being the only oxygen he needs. By the time he pulls back, we’re both panting and breathless. My thoughts scrambled to the point I can’t remember why I ever thought Shane Montgomery was a bad idea.

“Wow,” is all he says, as he rests his forehead against mine. “Remember your promise, pretty girl. As soon as you wake, promise you’ll call and let me hear your voice.”

“I promise.”

If only I had the courage to get him to promise to never hurt me. Or better yet, to make myself the promise that when he does—as he inevitably will—I won’t let the heartbreak and disappointment break me.

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Author’s Note:

In this chapter, we get to see Becca's feelings about Shane, evolve into something doesn't understand, but that she's helpless to fight.

Are you surprised by her reaction to everything Shane did for her today? Are you shocked that they shared their first kiss? Do you think Becca will wake up the next day with regrets?

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