Page 106 of Beneath the Stands (Sugarlake 2)

That’s all it took to throw everything I thought I knew about myself out the window.

Eli lowers my skirt and straightens my top with one hand, the palm of his other caressing my hair, smoothing down the flyaways. He’s touching me like I’m the finest jewel from the rarest treasure. Like now that he has me in his hands, he’s afraid of having me stolen away.

I swallow around the swelling of my throat, my eyes stuck on his, wanting to prolong the moment even though I shouldn’t. Even though his sister is standing less than five feet away.

The current of our connection sparks off his fingers, tingling my skin, and I want more than anything to lean into his touch. To breathe in his scent and wrap myself around his passion, letting it infuse me with its strength. I want to pretend he believes me.

That he’ll teach me how to love him right.

That he still loves me too.

I jerk away from his touch instead.

His chin juts out and his eyes gain a sheen, but after a moment he nods his head and backs away, clearing his throat. With one last glance my way, he turns his attention to Lee. “Lee, it’s all good.”

She scoffs, spinning around and dropping her hands. “We must have different definitions of that phrase, Eli.”

The sharpness in her voice shoots through the air, piercing my chest and nailing my heart through the hole. She’ll hate me now. Honestly, I can’t blame her. I would hate me too.

My brain is confused. My soul is lost.

And I think I’m going to be sick.

I told Eli I loved him and this is where we end up. With me laid out on a desk, while my best friend watches from the doorway—Eli’s fiancée none the wiser in a room down the hall.

Oh, God.

My hand curls around my stomach, pressing deeply, hoping the pressure is enough to keep me from spewing all over the tile floor.

What have I done?

Realization drops heavy in my gut and my stomach revolts, teasing the back of my throat with the tang of hypocrisy.

I am my father.

I move from the desk, toward Lee. I’m careful in my steps, afraid she’s going to lash out and strike. She’s radiating animosity, her stature cutting through my skin and bleeding my guilt into the space between us.

I should have told her.

I suppose hindsight is twenty-twenty.

“Lee, this isn’t what it looks like.” I’m not sure why I phrase it that way, because it is what it looks like. But it’s also so much more.

“If I had a nickel for every time I’ve heard that phrase tonight.” She laughs. “No. I think this is exactly what it looks like. And besides the fact Eli’s engaged to be freakin’ married, I probably wouldn’t have cared. But I asked you, Becca.” Her voice breaks.

Shame twists my stomach. It’s always slinked around in the background, but over the years I’ve been a master of repression—able to ignore the fact I’ve been keeping something gigantic from her.

Something that changes her perception of reality.

Just like my folks did with me.

My gut rolls with nausea.

Still, I have to try to salvage this. “I know, but—”

“Don’t,” she bites. “Don’t try to excuse this away. I don’t wanna hear it. I can’t even begin to process this right now. All I know is how much it hurts that you thought I wouldn’t understand.”

What’s left of my hope smashes into a thousand pieces, careening from my chest and mixing in the ruins of my soul.

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