Page 51 of Forbidden Fruit

His mouth quirks up. "Hard to forget."

"But?" I prompt, hearing the hesitation in his voice.

"But I haven't felt this alive in years," he says, his voice dropping lower. "Maybe ever."

I reach for his hand, twining our fingers together. "Me neither."

My phone buzzes repeatedly, vibrating against the counter like an angry insect. Clive glances at it.

"He's not going to stop," he says.

"I know Jack. He's used to getting his way."

Clive's jaw tightens. "Something he and his mother have in common.”

"I've never been good at telling people no," I confess, taking another pancake to avoid Clive's gaze. "Especially Jack. He has this way of making me feel like I'm the unreasonable one."

"That's called narcissistic gaslighting," Clive says matter-of-factly. He takes a sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving mine. "It's what Kay did to me for years."

The buzzing starts again, and I feel my resolve weakening. "Maybe I should just answer and get it over with."

Clive shrugs. "Your call. But remember, you don't owe him an explanation."

My finger hovers over the screen. "What would you do?"

"I'd tell him exactly where he could stick his fifty-three phone calls," Clive says with a wry smile. "But I'm not known for my diplomacy."

That makes me laugh, breaking the tension. I hit the answer button before I change my mind.

"Where the HELL are you? Are you still in fucking Mexico with Clive?" Jack's voice explodes through the speaker. I don't put it on speakerphone, but his voice is so loud Clive can clearly hear every word.

"Jack, I?—"

"Do you have any idea what you've put me through? Do you know the kind of horrible things going through my mind?"

"I broke up with you," I say firmly, surprising myself. "Two nights ago. Remember? What I do is no longer any of your business."

There's a brief silence. "That wasn't a real breakup, Becca. You were emotional."

I feel Clive's hand on my back, a silent show of support. It gives me courage.

"It was very real. And when I return to New York, it won’t be to you."

"You're with him, aren't you?" Jack's voice turns venomous. "My mother said Clive is still in Mexico."

I glance at Clive, who raises an eyebrow but stays silent, letting me handle this my way.

"Yes," I say simply. "I'm with Clive."

The stream of obscenities that follows makes me wince. I pull the phone away from my ear until Jack runs out of breath.

"Are you finished?" I ask when he finally pauses.

"You're making a fool of yourself," Jack spits. "He's using you to get back at me and my mother. Is that what you want? To be a pawn in his revenge game?"

The accusation stings, but when I look at Clive—at the gentle concern in his eyes—I know it isn't true.

"This has nothing to do with you, Jack. Or your mother."

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