Page 188 of The Faking Game

“Rafe knows about us.”

My hands find the lapels of his tuxedo jacket. Grip them tight. “How? I thought we were careful…”

“He was in the library, in the corner. He saw us. Your mom calling… when I kissed you.”

I blink up at West. Rafe knows. Rafeknows.“What does he know? Did you tell him… all of it?”

“That I deflowered his little sister on my back lawn?” West lifts his drink to his lips, and he knocks back over half. “No. I spared him the details.”

“Give me some of that.” I take the cold glass from his hands and lift it to my lips.

He watches me take a long sip. It burns, and I fight to hide the grimace. It’s only when I blink a few times and focus on him again that I see the darkened bruise starting to spread under his eye.

“What?”

“It’s nothing. It’s—careful, trouble,” he warns, but I’m already brushing my fingers over the bruise on his cheek. “Rafehityou?”

“I let him,” West says. “It was his right.”

“Bullshit. That’sbullshit.”I let my hand drop. “Why are you not putting ice on it?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my house is filled with guests. I would rather not let anyone see me like this and start rumors.”

I take his glass from him, and he doesn’t flinch when I slowly lift it up and press it to the skin beneath his eye. It’s not ice, but it’s cold, and it’s something. “I don’t like having to patch you up.”

“You don’t have to. But for the record,Ilike it.” His hands slide down, fit the span of my waist.

I give him a withering look. “Tell me you didn’t goad him into it.”

“Into hitting me? Your brother has a temper of his own.”

“Yes, I know that. But I also know that you seem to love feeling guilty about this, when getting involved with you wasmydecision.”

“Getting involved,” he repeats. Out here in the darkness, he’s achingly familiar and like a stranger, all at once. “Is that what we are, trouble?Involved?”

I focus on the way the light reflects off the crystal tumbler. “I would say so. Wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” he says, and it’s the best word I’ve ever heard. He’s shown me over and over again that he wants me. He’s never made me doubt it, not once, and that’s why I feel brave enough to find the next words.

“Your mother asked me if we were serious again today.” I cup my free hand to the side of his neck and feel the warm skin, the sharp stubble. “And I asked Amber about the marriage clause when I couldn’t find you. She said your mother has a short list of women you can marry if we don’t work out.”

West has gone very still beneath my hands. “Doesn’t surprise me.”

“They’re women in your circle. Probably some that you already know, through family connections or… or… college.” I tap my finger against his neck, and if it wasn’t for the night, he’d be able to see my heated skin. “You’ll marry one of them, or a woman you find on your own, to keep Fairhaven.”

His jaw works. I can feel it beneath the glass I’m pressing to his cheek. “You sound so sure,” he says. “Is that what you want me to do?”

“You can’t lose Fairhaven.” This place, it’s magic. And it needs to be protected.

“And that doesn’t make you jealous?” He’s watching me carefully. I’m safe on this dock, with water below our feet, but it would still be so easy to drown in him.

“Marry me,” I say.

His breathing stops.

I haven’t seen him shocked often. But he’s shocked now, his eyes searching mine. He swallows hard and parts his lips. But no sound comes out.

“Marry me,” I repeat, and lower the tumbler from his swelling bruise. “Why not? It would solve everything.”

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