Becca

“Please, Becca. We really need to talk.”

When he left me last night, after completely shattering the walls I had so carefully built to protect myself, not for a second did I stop to question if I’d done the right thing. It just felt right. Because somehow, Shane knew exactly what to do and say to make me feel safe.

But then he didn’t call before bed like he promised. Sure, he texted to let me know he was dealing with a family situation. I understood it and, to be honest, didn’t think twice about it at the time. But when he called early this morning, his voice rushed as he told me we needed to talk, I knew for sure something was wrong.

That’s when the doubt crept in. Did I make a mistake? A concern that was further amplified when he didn’t show up when he said he would. For nearly thirty minutes, I sat in that room—the very same one where he confronted me about avoiding him and then convinced me to give us a chance. That was just yesterday.

Now, I can’t help but think that he must have changed his mind.

A thought that, just a few days ago, wouldn’t have bothered me in the least. But now, after feeling his touch, after tasting his lips, after being the subject of those soulful brown eyes and their adoring gaze, I don’t know how to go back to a world where Shane and I are nothing more than acquaintances.

But maybe this is for the best.

As much as I’m afraid of whatever he has to say, maybe this is my chance to set things right. To reset and re-erect those walls that kept him firmly outside the boundaries protecting my heart.

“Okay,” I answer softly, then without meeting his gaze, I turn away, walking back to the room where, just minutes ago, I swore I’d stop letting myself get distracted by him.

When we arrive, he shuts and locks the door behind us. I can’t bring myself to look at him, so I walk to the far window that faces the student lot. With the morning bell just minutes away, the remaining students rush from their cars, hurrying to make it to class before they’re marked late. I kind of wish I were them right now—instead of being stuck here, trapped in a room with a man who’s disrupted my carefully arranged life.

“Pretty girl. Please, look at me.”

At the feel of his touch at my elbow, I close my eyes in resignation. I can’t fight this. No matter how badly I want to.

“There you are.” Tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear, he searches my eyes, and then, like he can’t help himself, he leans in, capturing my lips in a soft kiss that steals my breath.

“Shane…” my voice quivers in confusion. That kiss. The way he’s looking at me—it doesn’t align with how he’s acted since he left my house last night.

“I know,” he murmurs, his gaze dropping to where his fingers are caressing the soft skin of my hands. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something I hope won’t change anything between us.”

He takes a few steps back, guiding me to follow him to the small loveseat by the wall. Once we reach it, he urges me to sit next to him.

As he works up the courage to speak, I notice the dark circles under his eyes and the tension etched into the lines of his brow. For the first time this morning, it’s not my heart or my own fears that consume me—it’s him. He looks… lost. Stressed. Afraid. Emotions that are so out of place for someone who’s usually so sure of himself.

Without thinking, I lean in, pressing my lips against his in a silent show of support. It’s bold. So unlike me. Which must be why he moans in surprise. Letting go of my hands, he cups my face instead, deepening the kiss as I part my lips, allowing his tongue to sweep into my mouth in a move that makes my insides quiver and has goosebumps breaking out over every inch of my skin.

“God!” he gasps, his forehead falling against mine as we both struggle to catch our breath. “One touch from your lips… you unman me, pretty girl.”

His words send a rush of warmth through me, igniting a deep sense of pride. Knowing I can affect him the way he does me is empowering. It’s reassurance that maybe I’m not as helpless in this as I thought.

With a sigh, he pulls back, his gaze steady on mine. “I’ll start by saying I’ve meant every single word I’ve ever said to you. I want to be with you. Desperately. Completely. But before we go any further, there’s something you need to know about me.” His voice softens, and though he shifts nervously, his eyes never stray from mine.

“My parents… they have certain expectations. Expectations that often don’t align with mine, but which, up until now, I never questioned. You were right when you said we come from very different worlds, but I stand by my word, it changes nothing when it comes to us. I firmly believe that nothing can come between us unless we let it.”

He pauses, tilting his head as if to gather his thoughts, his eyes closing briefly as he inhales deeply. “Last night, my father informed me that after college, I’m to marry Amanda Kline.”

I’m shocked by the gasp that escapes my lips, but the sharp stab of pain slicing through my chest is even worse. I try to pull my hands away, instinctively retreating from the hurt, but he tightens his grip, holding on, his eyes wide and searching mine. His mouth opens and closes a few times like he’s struggling to find the words to make this right.

What? What kind of cruel joke is this?

“I don’t want to marry her, nor do I intend to,” he says with fierce conviction. His eyes burn with a fire that helps cut off the panic constricting my throat. “I said as much to my father last night, but to him, marriage is nothing more than a business transaction. I don’t agree with that. The good news is I have four years to figure a way out. Four years to assert my independence, to pursue my own path, separate from my family if that’s what it takes.” He pauses, and his voice softens as he adds, “A path I hope to undertake with you by my side.”

“An arranged marriage?” I whisper, my mind spinning, struggling to grasp how something like that can still exist in this day and age.

He cups the side of my face, his thumb gently brushing my cheek as he leans in closer, his eyes locking onto mine with unwavering intensity. “No one can force me into a marriage I don’t want. No one. Not Charles Kline. Not Edward Montgomery. The only person who gets to decide who I spend the rest of my life with is me.”

“How can they do this?” I murmur, still trying to wrap my head around it.

“That’s just it, pretty girl. They can’t. Not really. Though they want me to believe Amanda and I have no choice in the matter, at the end of the day, we do.” His voice is calm but resolute as he continues, “Now, that doesn’t mean they won’t try to coerce us, to force our hand in other ways, but I have four years to plan and prepare for that. Four years to come up with a solution. One that’s hopefully mutually beneficial to all parties, including my father.”

He takes a deep breath, his eyes never leaving mine. “The point is, I’ll figure something out between now and then. I just wanted you to know because I don’t want there to be any secrets between us. I want you, pretty girl. And I hope that even with this hanging over my head, you’ll still find it in your heart to give me a chance.”

I swallow hard. With my voice barely a whisper, I ask, “What about Amanda?”

“That’s a bit more complicated,” he admits, blowing out a tired sigh. “I’m planning to talk to her tonight. I ended things with Amanda over a year ago because I felt like our relationship had run its course, and I wanted us both to explore other things outside of each other. She knows this. I’ve made it clear we’re not together and that it’s for the best.”

He pauses, the weight of what he’s about to say heavy on his shoulders. “But she… she’s dealing with her own set of pressures. Her father, as you know, is a difficult man. He’s threatened to cut her out of the family unless she secures a marriage that benefits him. A marriage to me.” He cringes as though speaking the words out loud causes him physical pain.

“So, she wants to be with you.” The thought stings more than I care to admit.

“No, pretty girl.” His voice softens as he runs a finger down the side of my face before tucking a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. “She’s just a scared girl. She’s trying to please her father and secure the only life she’s always known. She’s a victim in this too—a pawn on her father’s chessboard.”

If there was ever any doubt about the monster that is my biological father, this confirms it. But what kind of sick world is this, where the man I’m falling for—the man who has already fallen for me—has such a direct connection to the man who destroyed my life? My mother’s life? My family. Charles Kline is at the root of everything that’s gone wrong in my world, and now, without even knowing it, he’s doing it again. To me, this time. To Shane. To Amanda. While there’s no love lost between me and my wicked half-sister, I have to admit that in this, I do feel sorry for her.

“So, what now? What are you going to do?”

“Tonight, I’ll talk to Amanda,” he says, resolute. “I’ll reassure her that no matter how this plays out, Nick and I will be there for her. If Charles makes good on his threats, we’ll step up to make sure she’s taken care of. But I’m also going to make it crystal clear that she and I don’t have a future together. I don’t want there to be any doubt about that.”

Feeling like I’m about to crawl out of my skin, I pull away and stand up. Shane lets me go, though I can feel his eyes—full of trepidation—as he watches me pace the room. How is it that no matter what I do, I can’t escape the black cloud that is Charles Kline? This is exactly why I have to get out of this town, why I need to focus on my studies and get into college, so I never have to come back to this place.

“Pretty girl?” The uncertainty in his voice halts my steps, and suddenly, I’m not just angry for me—I’m angry for him. How dare they do this to him? How dare they do this to us? After everything Charles Kline has taken from me, I refuse to let him take this away from me, too.

“Okay,” I say, my voice firm.

“Okay?” he asks, his voice laced with uncertainty.

“Yes.” I move back to him, kneeling beside him as I take his hand in mine. His eyes widen for a moment, like I’ve caught him by surprise. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Y-you’re welcome. But… what does this mean for us, pretty girl?”

“You said you want this, right? To be with me?”

“More than anything.”

“Then I think it’s up to you to define that for us.”

 He pauses, considering my words carefully before responding. “As far as how I feel, it changes nothing. I want to be with you, and when you’re ready to tell everyone about us, I’ll be right there with you.” His voice is steady, but there’s an intensity in his gaze that makes my heart race. “I’ve already made it clear to my father that I’m not with Amanda, and when I meet with Charles, I’ll tell him the same thing. We have four years until this sham of a marriage becomes a reality, and I fully intend to use those four years to carve my own path. But it doesn’t come without risk, pretty girl.”

He scoots up to the edge of the couch and presses a soft kiss on the top of my hand, his lips lingering there like he’s trying to anchor himself in the moment.

“Charles Kline has a reputation for being callous. He’s a man with means who isn’t afraid to flex his power to get what he wants, no matter who he hurts. We’ll need to be careful. I’m supposed to meet with him and my father sometime in the next couple of weeks to discuss the marriage. I’ll feel him out then and see where he stands. After that, we can decide how to handle him.”

“I trust you.” The conviction in my voice surprises us both.

“Y-you do?” His voice falters slightly, and I nod, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. Before I can hide, he gently tilts my chin back toward him with a finger, locking our gazes. The awe in his eyes, paired with that signature smile of his, makes my heart skip a beat and steals the breath from my lungs. No one has ever looked at me the way he does.

“I promise you won’t regret this, pretty girl. From this point forward, it’s you and me. Nothing else matters.”

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