Page 35 of His to Keep

“When were you born?” I ask, thinking of Father Aaron and how much hate he possesses for his own son. How could anyone hate their child so much that they coax them to whip themselves on their birthdays?

“From Penny’s recollection, after their parents died, the inheritance was split between her and her sister. My father and his brother got nothing. They were written out of the will, and as you can imagine, my father didn’t take the news well. He concocted a plan to steal my mother’s money by keeping her under his thumb. He stole her and her money away to a town called Viewmont. A month later, they discovered she was pregnant, which wasn’t part of his plan. It was careless as she was only sixteen. He had to lie and say she’d gotten pregnant by a random boy back in their old town.”

“And that’s why he hates you? Because you weren’t part of his plan.”

“He wanted Penny to himself. When I was born, she had to tend to me, which he loathed. And then there’s my grandparents’ will. The first grandchild to be born from their daughters would receive a hidden inheritance when they turn twenty-one. I’m the first grandchild. My father thinks they’re giving me his money. He’d have abandoned me if it weren’t for that. My grandparents have kept me alive.”

Like mine did.

“Is John not older than you?”

“John’s illegitimate, and despite him calling me it, is not my real cousin. My uncle married a woman with a child from a previous marriage. That child was John. When they died from a car accident when he was nine, he came to live with us. He didn’t have any other family, and his real father was in prison. The state wanted to be done with him, and we were all that was left.”

“Do you think if John hadn’t been given to Father Aaron, he wouldn’t be the way he is now?”

He turns on his side to face me better. “I never thought of it that way. Maybe. Although John was strange when he first arrived. My father only encouraged his behavior. He always saw John more like his son because of the similarities between them.”

“Have you…” I bite my lower lip, wondering if I should ask the following question or not. I chance it. “Have you ever thought about getting out?”

“No.” He gazes down, expression hardening. “All I know is this. That’s why I thought about ending it. For if I die, so does the money, and then there’s nothing I have that he wants. Until he stole you like he did my mother, and I couldn’t.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” The thought of Callum killing himself depresses me. Shuffling closer until the arm he’s leaning on rests beneath me, I press my face into his chest and breathe in his scent. He smells of soap and detergent andhim—a combination that both relaxes and warms me. He lies back down on the pillow and curls his arm around my neck, not pushing me away like I think he might, but pulling me closer. Lifting his other hand, he rubs the tip of his finger against my cheek.

“I don’t think friends do this,” he whispers, and I smile, which he stares at. Eyes on my lips, which I consciously dampen with my tongue.

“I’ve never had a friend like you.”

“You should go to sleep now, Ava.” His tone is serious.

“Why?” I ask, my heart thumping in my chest—his doing the same beneath my palm—Thump, thump, thump.Closing the gap between us, he kisses me again. Lips so gentle and soft and warm it steals my breath away. We’re purposefully complicating things, yet it’s like we can’t stop ourselves. It takes only seconds before something ignites between us, turning such a soft kiss harder. Needier. Like the barrier has dropped, and there’s no going back. His tongue enters my mouth and touches mine, and there it is again, that hellish feeling that sparks between us.

Tingles spread through my body, overwhelming me enough to moan a raspy sound that doesn’t sound like me at all and grip onto him even tighter. He moans against my lips. “Ava—we shouldn’t.”

“Stop then,” I whisper back, leaving it up to him because there’s no way I can. When he kissed me, all my willpower went far away.

Pulling me closer, he deepens the kiss instead, arms wrapping tightly around me. Putting my leg over his, I feel him again, his male part pressing hard against me. Removing his mouth, we catch our breaths, gripping tightly onto each other like we’re afraid one of us might fade away. “Ava…”

“Yes?”

“Has anyone ever kissed you? Touched you like this?”

With a mind of their own, my fingers run through the back of his soft, thick hair, and I think I could like this, his breath hot and heavy against my lips, him holding me. “Only a kiss—last year. I hated it. He sliced my lip open with his tooth.”

His eyes dance with amusement as he breathes a laugh. He puts his thumb against my bottom lip, strangely in the very place. I’m damp between my legs. Hot. I shudder. “You truly are innocent.”

“I’m not,” I say, so caught up in him and this, it’s like everything else has melted away in flames.

Letting out a sigh, I think of frustration; he rolls onto his back and runs a hand down his face. “Friends?”

Sitting up, I hazily smile down at him as I move a piece of black hair that’s near his eye. “Friends.”

Forcing himself off the bed, he stiffly goes over to the bathroom. Before he enters, he glances over his shoulder. “Go to sleep.”

“Goodnight,” I whisper, knowing he’s right and I should sleep, even though I could spend all night kissing him. Touching him, like I know he’s about to himself.

“Goodnight.” He closes the door, and I flop back against the pillows. Stuffing my nightdress between my legs to ease the throbbing, I’m losing my mind as I try not to listen and force myself to sleep.

Chapter Twenty-One

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