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I ran my hands up and down his back and finally paused the movie so I could roll to my back and concentrate on holding him.

Whatever the fuck his father had said to him at the game had gotten way under his skin. Enough that he didn’t wake up again until the next morning, and then he decided to use my body, mouth, and hands to put it all behind him.

I wasn’t one to complain, but I was also well aware that whatever he was running from wasn’t going anywhere. And sometime soon, there would come a reckoning with his father. One I’d do just about anything to protect him from.

Because my feelings for Bett McNeely were passing the warmth stage.

And if they got any warmer, we’d both get fucking burned.

23

BETT

When I woke up on Sunday, I shot a quick text to my parents, claiming a horrible stomach bug that Arden was generously nursing me through.

My father responded not with sympathy, but with a rant about irresponsible drinking and my “childish inability” to avoid a hangover.

I didn’t bother arguing.

He followed it up with an order to present myself the following Sunday. “And this time, no excuses, Corbett. Pastor Wisbey will be expecting you in church, understand?”

Oh, I understood alright.

What I understood was that we had a week’s reprieve. Seven more days to figure out a solution.

Meanwhile, Vaughn was being so sweet to me, I would have thought it was suspicious if I hadn’t wanted it so badly.

I was quickly becoming attached to him. The way he explained the work he did at the garage without talking down to me. The soft look he got on his face when his sister’s name came up. The fake-casual knowledge of my kicking stats.

He was a good person. And I liked him.

A lot.

More than that, I respected him. I trusted him. I wanted his advice. It was killing me to keep this secret from him…

But I was doing it anyway.

Partly, I was terrified of scaring him off. Sometimes it seemed like Vaughn was spending time with me almost against his will. Liking me against his better judgment. If he found out just how ugly my family was, how could it not change his opinion of me?

And even if it didn’t fuck things up between us, knowing the truth might still mess up Vaughn’s life.

The man was a fighter through and through. He’d want to salt the earth to defend me, even if it meant taking the story to the press to preempt my father’s attempt to make me claim Arden’s child.

But the forces at work here weren’t the kind you could confront head-on.

This news was a ticking time bomb for my father’s campaign. Billions of dollars were on the line in the election. Contracts and agreements that impacted the global economy based on US policy set by Congress. And as my father had reminded me, behind the big money were often dangerous people with too much to lose.

I didn’t want Vaughn anywhere near that shit, so I was keeping my mouth shut.

At the same time, my bone-deep rage at my father was boundless and impossible to hide.

“Fucking look at me, McNeely,” Vaughn growled Tuesday night when my thoughts got too loud during a heavy make-out session. I blinked at him and realized I’d been lost in my head.

“Sorry,” I murmured, leaning back in to kiss him again.

He put his hand around the front of my throat to hold me off, and the feel of it made me go boneless.

“Oh, he likes that,” he said with a grin.