Page 63 of Sweetheart: Part One

Her chest heaved, and I could see the peaks of her nipples through the loose t-shirt she wore. “If…” She seemed to be trying to collect herself. “If you signed the contract, we could do this every morning.”

“Don’t say that,” I groaned.

But… she was right.

Joy collided with grief.

It was the thought of having her here, crashing into the realisation of how fucking lonely I was.

I’d slept better with her than I had in as long as I could remember.

“You’re very hard to say no to.”

Again, she gave me one of those bright smiles that sent butterflies scattering in my stomach.

“That’s the point,” she told me. “Tell me you’ll say yes?”

Fuck.

Fuck.

Yet… now more than ever, looking up at her perfectly sweet expression, lip caught in her teeth, I was stalled by a moment of dread imagining her stuck with Ebony.

And he’d be so angry if we signed her on.

“I… can’t,” I said. My heart shattered at the disappointment that crumbled her expression.

“I can deal with Ebony.”

“You don’t know him.”

Her palms withdrew from my chest as she folded her arms, a pout on her face.

“That’smyproblem,” she said.

“It’s all of our problem if there’s a body to clean up.”

I saw a flicker of fear on her face. “He wouldn’t go that far.”

“I don’t know how far Ebony will go. None of us do, and we live in a bond with him.”

I had to make her understand.

I didn’t believe Ebony lived his life with ill intent, but when he wanted something he didn’t have the same limitations as most of us.

She considered that for a long moment, and I saw that vulnerability I had when she’d told me how much she needed this job.

I sat up, so she was caught against me, still straddling my hips as I cupped her cheek and got her to look up at me.

“What happens if you don’t get the contract?” I asked.

I saw the smallest flicker in her expression, like everything safe had just cracked beneath her feet and she was in freefall.

“Nothing… happens…” she whispered. “Everything goes back to how it was before I turned up here.”

I frowned.

Most Sweethearts came from well off families. They were vetted to make sure they were the best options for packs like us. I’d scrolled what I could of the social media I could find, and public posts were mostly limited to her travels. Rich girl box checked, even if she was a little wilder and willing to step out of her comfort zone. Not all the places she’d been were the type to have five star resorts.

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