Tearing my gaze from Rebel’s, I glance at his mother and father before stopping with Ransom. His eyes hold a mixture of disbelief at what I said and hope that what I say next will be different.
It won’t be.
“I said I’m an exotic dancer.”
Silence reigns once more before Seraphim bravely speaks up. “You mean like a belly dancer, right? Or one of those Hawaiian girls?”
“No, I mean I’m a stripper,” I say firmly, and I witness the exact moment disgust enters Ransom’s mind. He looks like he just smelled something foul. Just to drive the point home, to make sure he’s really getting what I’m saying, I add, “Men pay me to take my clothes off.”
Seraphim releases a scandalized gasp. Ransom’s looking at me as if I’ve sprouted a second head.
“Well, I need a drink,” Vincent declares and leaves the table.
I officially feel like an outcast. This is the exact same scenario I always envisioned happening if I ever told my friends who I really am. They’d behave just as the Scotts were now. I’d watch their view of me shift before my eyes as they realized how unworthy I was of their friendship, and then they’d turn their backs on me. I’m just glad my parents are no longer around to see what I’ve become. Then again, if they were still alive, I’d probably be traveling a different path altogether.
My eyes burn and I feel like I might hyperventilate. As calmly as possible, I push my chair out and stand. “Excuse me. I need some fresh air.”
What I really mean to say is goodbye, because I have zero intention of coming back.
FIVE
“Where are you going?”
I pick up my pace, marching toward my car with purpose. Parked on the Scott property, surrounded by immaculate landscaping, my Toyota looks like it belongs in a junkyard. It’s the perfect analogy for how I feel right now, too. The way the Scotts looked at me was painful, but even more than that was the way Ransom looked at me.
I can’t shake that from my mind, no matter how hard I try. So I keep walking.
“I’m going home,” I call over my shoulder as I approach the door and reach for the handle. This is the last place I want to break down at.
I feel the firm grasp of a hand on my shoulder, and then my vision blurs as I am spun around and pushed up against the side of the car.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
I hate that the only way I know for sure which brother I am talking to is by his choice of clothes. Rebel. The jerk who just ruined my day. His face is inches from mine, and the look in his eyes is full of fierce determination. I have no doubt that if he doesn’t want me to leave, I’ll have no choice but to stay. Even so…
“That’s not your choice to make,” I snarl, pushing my face into his.
His dark eyes narrow at my tone and proximity, shifting between mine searchingly. After a moment, he blinks and pulls back, as though reaching a conclusion.
“Come on, we’re going back inside,” he declares. Taking my arm, he pulls me after him. Digging my heels into the ground, I tug myself free of his grasp.
My breathing is rapid, my blood flowing hot through my veins. At my sides, my hands ball into fists. “Why, so you can humiliate me again?”
Rebel’s head whips around and he gives me a stern look. “When did I do that exactly?”
My eyes widen to say are-you-kidding? He can’t be that obtuse. “You outted me to your family. No one knows what I do. No one. Now, because of you, they all think I’m just some piece of low-life trash.”
“That’s not true,” he says fiercely. “It caught them off-guard, sure, but they don’t judge people like that.”
I fold my arms over my chest. “Did you miss the deafening silence? Or the way your dad fled the room to have a drink? Your brother couldn’t even look at me!”
“Good!” Rebel shouts, catching me off-guard with his intensity.
“Good? Good? Well, I guess as long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters, right?” I throw my hands up. This conversation is over. I move to walk around him, but once again, Rebel grabs my arm. “Let me go.”
“Take a walk with me.” I try to tell him no, but we’re already moving. He pulls me along by the wrist, moving so fast I have to jog to keep up.
Guiding us along a path that circles the side of the house, I’m momentarily distracted when it breaks out onto the expansive backyard. The view is even more stunning in person. There are mature trees everywhere, and the sky hanging over us is of the purest blue, but I don’t have much time to soak it all in. The path we walk is flagstone until it reaches a length of waist-high picket fence, and then it turns rugged. It takes all my concentration to keep my feet beneath me.
It’s obvious by the worn trail that this path is often used, and I try my best to stick to it while keeping up with the quick pace Rebel has set. It’s not long before I hear the steady lapping of water ahead.
“Are you planning to drown me in the river?” I ask sarcastically, but you just never know. I watch movies. Who knows how much I’ve pissed him off? The question is, is it enough to want to kill me?
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rebel growls as he pauses to help me navigate the rocky terrain. “My parents don’t have enough bricks lying around to keep your body from floating back to the surface.”
“Oh, so digging holes is more your speed then.”
“You know me so well.” His smile and tone are mocking, but it makes me feel better. Rebel hardly ever smiles, at least, not when he’s with me. He’s always so serious, but right now, he’s teasing me, and I like it.
“I’d like to,” I reply honestly.
His gaze holds mine for what feels like forever. Down by the water, the house is far from view. It’s just the two of us here, the sounds of nature, and the sun reflecting off the river. The weather today is perfect, a balmy seventy-three, and once again I find myself daydreaming about what it would be like to live here. Only in this vision, I’m not reading a book, but in a boat, nestled in Rebel’s arms, as the current carries our canoe downriver.
“It wasn’t my intention to embarrass you,” Rebel says gruffly, shattering my fantasy.
The sad thing is I believe him, and it makes it difficult to stay adequately mad at him. “No, you just wanted to hurt your brother.”
His blank expression says it all. Being involved with both of them has put them in direct competition with each other. Ransom’s approach comes from a confident place of believing I belong to him. Rebel’s, on the other hand, comes from a position of jealously and determination. He wants to “win,” so he is taking the necessary measures to ensure it happens.
“The problem with that, though,” I say thoughtfully, “is that you sacrificed me to do it. So if you’re trying to get me to choose you, you’re already off on the wrong foot.”
His jaw flexes as he considers me. I can see the wheels turning behind those fathomless black eyes, and I wonder what he’s thinking—or plotting. Rebel’s kept me on my toes since day one. I have to admit, that’s part of his appeal. He’s calculating and I get the impression that he doesn’t make decisions lightly. Which is why his choice today hurts so damn much. It makes me wonder if and how much he cares about me, or if this is just some game to him.
Because I intend to choose, and if forced to do it now, he won’t like my decision.
“The problem here,” Rebel says as he casts his gaze out to the water, “is that you think you have a choice.”
“I don’t?” This is a surprise, considering the last time I checked, I lived in a free country.
“No, you don’t. I saw you first; therefore, you’re mine.”
I laugh. “You’re kidding me. We’re not in high school anymore, Rebel. Decisions aren’t made that way in the real world.”