Not just his presence.
Him.
The way he listens. The way he looks at me like I’m not a problem to be managed. The way he makes space instead of shrinking me to fit.
Being away from him stripped everything else down to the truth.
I don’t just like Dallas.
I adore him.
Behind me, I can hear Evan approaching. We don’t have much time.
“I missed you,” I whisper.
His breath catches.
“I missed you, too,” he says quietly.
Before I can stop myself, the words tumble out.
“I don’t want this life,” I cry out. “I don’t want any of it. I don’t want the dinners or the meetings or the pretending. I don’t want Evan. I don’t want my dad deciding everything for me. I want…” I swallow hard. “I want you.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Dallas
February 3rd
The second Evanreaches for her, my body reacts before my brain does.
Something tears loose in my chest. Hot, violent, and absolute.
I step in front of Faith so fast she gasps, her breath hitting my back. My boots hit the pavement hard, planted, immovable.
“Don’t,” I say.
The word comes out low. Flat. Deadly calm.
Evan blinks at me because he genuinely didn’t expect resistance.
Then he laughs. It’s short and mean and edged with disbelief.
“You think you’re going to play cowboy hero right now?” he sneers. “This doesn’t concern you.”
Behind me, Faith’s fingers clutch the back of my jacket, twisting the fabric tight. It’s the only thing keeping her upright.
“She asked for help,” I say. “That makes it my concern.”
For half a second, Evan might actually hesitate.
Then his face twists, and the mask slips. Whatever careful, polished restraint he’s been clinging to cracks wide open, and what’s underneath is ugly. Raw entitlement and wounded pride colliding into something reckless.
“Help?” he snaps. “You think this is help?”
He lunges.
Not at me.
