The next few days were torture. I called in sick, missing my first days ever at work, and turned off my phone. I didn’t even want to talk to Kendy, and there was no way in hell I was going to call Kent.

I contemplated Brian’s words. I’d never thought I was being selfish because I had always been honest with him, but realistically, I now knew I was. I’d made him choose me, and in the end, when he’d wanted me to choose, I’d chosen Kent.

The banging on the door did not let up, and I knew it could only be one person. It was just a matter of time when he showed up at my door. I had done the exact same thing weeks ago when he didn’t answer my call after Brian’s party. Plus, this was our longest stint in not talking to each other.

I placed the pillow over my head to avoid the banging, but the loud knocking continued. I was worried that my neighbors would get annoyed, so I finally pushed myself off the couch when he wouldn’t relent. It was only when I rose to my feet that I realized it was evening.

Unlocking the door, I turned the doorknob and pivoted back around to plop on the couch. I positioned the throw pillow over my head as I decided that if I wanted to wallow in self-pity and guilt, I should be allowed.

“Where have you been? Do you know that I’ve been calling you? Did your phone die?” He tugged the pillow from my head. “What’s going on?” he asked, a look of concern etched on his face.

“I want to be alone. Can you please just do that? Let me be.” I pulled the pillow from his hands and placed it back on my face.

“Are you sick or something? You don’t look well.”

I huffed, ignored his comment, and flipped onto my side, facing the back of the couch.

“Do you want me to make you an appointment or buy you some medicine?”

“I just want to be left alone.”

“I can’t,” he said quietly.

I felt the couch indent right behind me, and he fell silent. The silence seemed to last forever, and I could feel his eyes burning a hole in my back. After a while, he tugged on a strand of hair as I continued to face the back of the couch.

“Beth…” he sighed. “About the other night, I…” He paused, unable to continue.

After a minute, I flipped to my back and lifted the pillow from my head. I stared up at him from under my lashes and our eyes locked, my emerald to his chestnut brown.

“There you are.” He used his finger to brush a strand of hair from my cheek, and the familiar warmth spread from his touch.

“We broke up.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his eyes raking over my face.

I moved, shifting my weight on my elbows. “Are you?” It slipped out before I could stop it.

“Of course I am,” he huffed. “I want you to be happy.” He ran a hand through his hair, grabbing a fistful at the top. “What happened the other night was impulsive. I was so engrossed in the whole charade and playing a part that I wanted to make it believable. I was confused, and I certainly didn’t mean to get between you and Brian.”

Chestnut eyes bore down at me, and it sent that butterfly feeling from my chest to the pit of my stomach.

I wanted to ask him what he was confused about, so we could sort it out together.

I wanted to ask him what he was doing.

What are we doing?

Why do you look at me that way?

When you do, why do I feel the way I do?

In our old relationship, I could have asked him just that. I could have said, What the heck is going on?

But we had crossed some invisible line, and I didn’t feel comfortable asking him what I honestly wanted to ask him anymore.

“I just want this whole thing planned, done, and over, okay?”

I wanted to move forward, and once it was over, maybe we could get back to where we had been before—before all the lines had blurred and turned gray.

He nodded his head in reply. “Okay.”

And so, it began. We were meeting with the wedding planner and his mother in Barrington. I put it in my head that I’d get through this, and now that I knew there was an end date in sight, it was easier to trudge through the day.

When we walked through the door, shopping bags were lined by the stairs.

Karen greeted us as we approached. “I’m getting excited,” she said, her eyes lighting up.

Kent glanced at his mother and a small smirk displayed on his face. “Mother, what did you buy? Did you buy all of Neiman?”

“Well,” she said softly as a shy smile crept up her face, “Neiman, Saks, and Barneys.” She took hold of each of our hands and tugged us toward the staircase where bags were scattered on the marbled floor. “I know we haven’t talked about it yet, but I was thinking peach. Do you think peach is a fun color? Of course, it’s your choice, but I just wanted to show you everything. It’s better if you get a visual. Look,” she said, rambling on.

I scoped what was visible inside, and everything peach-colored—from candles to napkins to tablecloths to glass hurricanes, and imitation flowers—filled the bags. The color was not a pretty light peach. It was more of an ugly bright, almost neon, peach and I had to keep my facial features steady to hide my distaste.

“Mother, isn’t this the wedding planner’s job? And don’t we rent most of these items?” Kent chuckled.

“Oh, I know, but I figured we could use some for the wedding shower and donate what we don’t use to charity.” She reached into a Barneys bag and lifted up a peach silk nightgown, holding it by its thin straps. “Look. I thought it would be perfect for your first night together.”

She gave us a look, and I flushed at her comment.

Kent leaned in behind me, and his warm breath tickled the back of my neck. “Don’t worry. She’s not on something. This is her natural high. This is how Mother gets when she’s excited,” he whispered.

“So, what do you think?” Karen’s eyes were shining. “Everything is returnable,” she stated when I didn’t answer right away. She glanced at the bags in front of us. “Maybe I did go a little overboard.”

I smiled at this sweet woman, bursting in joy over her son’s wedding. I didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth. “I love it. Peach is my favorite color.”

She clasped her hands together and practically jumped on me. “Oh, I think it will look perfect. It is such a young, fun color. It doesn’t fit me, but it fits you perfectly. I can’t wait to show Mary.” She released me and rummaged through her purchases.

“Mary is the wedding planner,” Kent said, taking my hand. He brushed a lock of hair away from my face. “Thank you,” he whispered as his mother scattered about.

“Wait till I tell Kendy that she’s wearing peach. It will be worth it.”

I let him lead me into the family room. He pulled me to sit next to him in front of the TV, grabbed the remote with his free hand and flipped the channel to the news. I felt warmth where our thighs touched, and I cursed the butterflies in my stomach that were back.

“Kent…” I said.

When he turned toward my direction, everything came flying out all at once. “I don’t want a shower or a bachelorette party. I don’t care what we do, but I don’t want this long, drawn-out process. I want to get married and divorced, okay? That’s all. The end.”

“Okay,” he said, as his eyebrows pulled together.

“I know your mom is excited, and I don’t want to be the one to let her down. So, you tell her, okay? You set the expectations,” I continued.

“So, she’s being the monster-in-law already?”

“No, I just want this to be as painless as possible.” I wanted everything back to how it had been between us.

The doorbell rang, and I jumped. He placed his hand on my leg to calm me.

I widened my eyes at him when I heard a woman’s nasally voice greeting Karen down the hall. Her voice was getting annoyingly louder and closer to the family room.

When they entered the room, the wedding planner’s eyes locked on mine. She was studying me from the top of my head to what I was wearing to the color of my socks. She must have been in her early forties. A silver clip held her low ponytail, and her black skirt suit reminded me of a scary teacher in designer clothing. Thin black-rimmed glasses sat at the tip of her nose, and I swore, all she needed was a ruler.

I slid closer to Kent, and as he sensed my uneasiness, he squeezed my knee to placate me, silently telling me things would be all right.

“Beth and Kent, this is Mary. She’s our wedding planner. How exciting is this?” Karen was almost jumping from her delight. “She has over twenty years of experience, and she is the top wedding planner and owner of One Fine Day,” Karen said, clasping her hands together.

I stood up at attention, and Kent stood beside me. While Mary analyzed me, observing me through her glasses, my palms began to sweat.

“Hi,” I said, breaking the silence, sporting a forced smile on my face. I stuck out my hand awkwardly to greet her.

She stared at me and then to my outstretched hand for a second before an eerie smile popped up on her face. She was scary. Her teeth were the straightest and whitest teeth I’d ever seen. Kent stepped in front of me to act as a barrier between the wedding planner and me. I silently thanked the heavens above that I had him.

“I’m Kent, the son and fiancé,” he said, giving her his fake smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “We’re very excited that you have availability to take us on. How lovely.”

He studied her just as she had studied me earlier. She shifted her weight, and the confidence she’d had seconds ago was no longer present. It was times like these that I really loved the overly confident, cocky Kent.

“Regarding this wedding, Beth and I work a little differently. Just so you know, she’s the boss in our relationship, but I’m the leader when it comes to the planning. I’ve been dreaming of this day ever since I was a little boy playing with my Barbies.”

I looked to Karen, and her mouth slipped slightly ajar at his words.

“That being said, I will have the executive decision on all—from venue to cake to centerpieces. My sweet buttercup over here has allowed me to take the lead as she knows I’m into the details.” He pulled me closer to his side. “I’m a metrosexual male, so she says, and details do matter to me. But she would like to choose her flowers, shoes, and dress. All else, you direct your questions to me or my mother.”

At Kent’s tone, Mary’s demeanor changed. She was not standing as straight as she had been earlier. I wanted to reach over and give Kent a high five, right in front of her.

“This wedding is to be planned in one month and not one day past that,” he added.

“One month?” Karen and Mary asked in unison.

Kent softened his voice as he addressed his mom, “Mother, I don’t want to wait any longer. I love her. One month is plenty of time to plan.”

“A month is not a very long time to plan such an extravagant event as this,” Mary said, lifting her nose to him. Her expectant eyes looked to Karen for concurrence.

“Mother, I can’t wait longer than a month. If you want me to tell Mary about the details and the real reason I want to marry Beth quickly, I can.”

I grabbed his arm. “No!” I warned, an undercurrent in my tone.

Karen put her hand on her head and conceded. “Sorry, Mary. This has to be planned within the month.”

Mary cast Kent a look, and I was glad he hadn’t seen it because I didn’t want any more drama to occur.

“Noted,” she said, moving toward the door. “I will need to get a few things from the car. Excuse me.”

When she walked stiffly out of the room, Kent wrapped an arm around his mom. “Thanks, Mother,” he said, as he kissed her on her forehead.

“Barbies, Kent?” She gave him a look of incredulity.

“Mother, that woman is too much to stomach.” He grabbed my hand and started to lead me out of the room. “In all seriousness, Beth has allowed me full rein on the plans, and being the good son that I am, I’m allowing you full planning rights.”

As we rounded the corner, I briefly caught Karen’s face—wide-eyed and a cheeky grin of delight. I’d never seen her so happy.

Walking home after work, I once again found Brian leaning against the exterior glass door as I approached my apartment. His baseball cap was tipped low as he kicked a stone on the ground. I wanted to walk past him, enter the building, and pretend he wasn’t there, but I couldn’t. All those things he’d said in the elevator were true. He was the one who had gotten hurt.

“Hey,” he said, peering at me from underneath his cap. “I’m leaving today.”

“I know.” I stopped a few feet away from him.

When Caroline had asked me to go to his going-away party, I’d made up the lamest excuse of having already committed to a charity event with the Placks. In reality, I had gone home and watched TV all night. I’d known he wouldn’t want me to be there, and if anything, I had been too ashamed to go.

He tipped back his hat. “Listen, I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Brian, don’t—”

“No, I shouldn’t have said those things back in the elevator. I didn’t mean it.” He took his cap off and scratched his head. “I was just angry, but being angry isn’t going to get me anywhere.” He shook his head. “I guess I just wanted to say I’m sorry, and I wanted to say good-bye before I left. I didn’t want to leave on bad terms.”

I looked at my shoes and focused on the ground as everything he’d said in the elevator rushed back to hit me. “I’m the one who’s sorry. You were right. I was the selfish one.” I met his eyes. “I never cheated on you. You have to believe that. When I was with you, I was only with you. I’m sorry I had to drag you into all of this. You have to know, I never meant to hurt you on purpose.” I looked to my hands. “I just wanted to keep the perfect boyfriend and the best friend and be debt free. I was the selfish one. For once, I just wanted it all. It’s okay to be angry with me. I get it.”

“Beth, I didn’t come here to make you feel guilty.”

“I know.”

“In the end, I know that even if I waited, it still wouldn’t be enough.”

I shook my head, but he held up his hand to stop me from speaking. “I could have tried all I wanted, and I could have moved heaven and earth, but you can never force someone to fall in love with you. It doesn’t happen that way. Love just happens. In the end, I wasn’t enough.”

“That’s so not it. You’re more than enough,” I said. “You’re everything any girl could ever wish for. You’re perfect.”

“Not perfect enough,” he said, giving me a small smile.

“No, Bri—”

He gripped my hand and pulled me into an embrace. “Take care of yourself, Beth.”

I closed my eyes and relaxed in his arms, taking in his musky scent for the very last time. “You’re going to do great in New York.”

“I know,” he said.

I laughed.

“If I could only have the luck I have at work with relationships, I’d be golden.”

“Brian…” I said, sighing into his shoulder.

“I’m just kidding.” He released me and gave me one small peck on the top of my head. “Good-bye, Miss Bethany Casse.”

I watched him walk across the street until he was a stick figure among the crowd.

And he never looked back.

Biting my pinkie nail, I sat and took in the display of couture wedding dresses in front of me. Headless full-body mannequins were draped in elegant gowns surrounding the reception area of Neiman Marcus’s bridal salon.

I glanced down to my typical loungewear of jeans and gym shoes. I wished I’d dressed up more for the consultant to notice me. The tall blonde with the sleek long hair didn’t glance my way. I’d been sitting here for twenty minutes, waiting for Mrs. Plack. I was surprised that the bridal consultant hadn’t asked me if I wanted to look around.

My phone vibrated beside me, and I reached in my purse. Kent’s name flashed against the screen right before I picked it up.

“Hey, Mother is running late. She just called my cell. She’s just about there. Are you excited?”

“I’m excited to spend the day with her, but I’m not excited to go wedding shopping,” I said, pouting at the phone.

“You’re supposed to be happy. Play the part. Mother is thrilled to spend the whole day doing what girls do best—shop till they drop.” I could sense his smile on the phone. “Well, try at least. She’s ecstatic that she gets to spend time with you.”

I glanced at the blonde-haired consultant in front of me and the row of couture dresses and sighed. “Fine, I’ll fake it till I make it,” I said, still pouting.

“Beth, thank you. I’m forever indebted to you.”

“Uh-huh. Yeah. Sure.” I ended the call just after I heard him chuckle.

Karen Plack sauntered toward me, giving me one of her warmest smiles. She enveloped me in a bear hug, and I took in her sweet scent of apples and cinnamon, everything a mother should smell of—not alcohol and cigarettes, like my mother.

She released me and held me at arm’s length. “Beth, are you ready to shop for that perfect dress?” she asked, her eyes alight.

“Am I ever,” I replied a little louder than expected.

The blonde-bobbed bridal consultant greeted Mrs. Plack immediately. Shaking her hand firmly, she said, “Welcome to Nieman Marcus. We are so glad you came in to visit us today. I’m Crystal Kensington, and I will be assisting you in finding that perfect wedding gown.”

The inflection of her voice annoyed me, and the fact that she hadn’t acknowledged me earlier annoyed me more. It was most likely because, although Karen never tried, she looked like money with her cashmere sweater, Chanel purse, and the big rock on her finger. I looked like the help in my comfortable clothing of jeans and a light sweater. I’d already been warned that today was shop-till-I-drop day with the future mother-in-law, so I’d automatically dressed for comfort.

“Oh, lovely,” Karen said, clasping her hands together. She wrapped one arm around me and held me close. “This is the beautiful bride-to-be, Beth Casse. Today is her day. I want to make sure she gets everything she wants.”

Only then did Crystal Kensington glance my way to give me her fake smile. “Beth, nice to meet you,” she said, taking my hand.

I caught her glancing at Kent’s largely obnoxious engagement ring on my finger before she took in my appearance. “Let’s move this way, shall we?”

She led us through the hall and to an open-spaced area lined with rows and rows of bridal gowns. “I’m sure we’ll find you what you need. We hold accounts with every top-end designer, and we have the latest gowns from this year’s wedding season.”

We followed her as she continued to walk down the row of gowns. “We have the latest styles with fabrics imported from Europe—duchess satin, iridescent taffeta, organza, chiffon, beaded silks. We have it all,” she boasted, running her hand against the gowns as she strolled down the aisle.

As her high-pitched voice continued to echo through the room, I felt my anxiety rising and the queasiness in my stomach climbing to my throat. It was too much to take in, and I slowly trailed behind them.

“Beth?” Karen asked, turning around, realizing I’d fallen behind. She walked toward me, her face etched with concern.

“I’m sorry. What was that?” I asked, not hearing her. I gave her a small smile and tried to recall what she’d just said.

“Will Kendy be getting her dress here?” Karen asked, giving my hand a squeeze. “Are you okay, honey? You don’t look well.”

Maybe my smile looked a little pained.

“I haven’t discussed details with Kendy, but when I saw her at the party, I just told her to get a dress at home,” I said.

Crystal made a face at my comment, and my annoyance jumped up a notch at this snooty bridal consultant that had barely even spoken a word to me. I was already not feeling well.

“Karen, there’s also this other place down the street I want to try after this.”

“Whatever you want, honey. This is your day.”

Crystal stood at attention as my words sank in. She gave me her winning smile as she sensed her commission slipping through her fingers. “Ms. Casse, we do carry the most designers. Let’s try on some dresses, shall we?”

Mirrors surrounded me as I was elevated on a circular step in the dressing room that was as big as my apartment. The Monique Lhuillier wedding gown clung to my body tightly from my bust to my waist and flared to a Cinderella-style organza skirt accented with pickups. I couldn’t breathe as every time I exhaled my rib cage pushed against the bodice of the dress.

Through the mirror, I noticed Mrs. Plack’s smile, displayed full of awe. It seemed as if she might cry, and I thought I might too, but not for the same reason. I tugged the piece of white paper attached to the dress I was wearing, and my eyes widened at the fifteen-thousand-dollar price tag. I dropped the paper as if I’d been burned, and I couldn’t prevent my jaw from dropping as I thought of what other useful purchases could have been made with that kind of money.

“Honey, don’t look at the price tag. Jack and I have been looking forward to this day. Please don’t be shy. I want everything to be wonderful,” she said, searching my face. “Don’t let the money stop you from getting what you want.”

When she moved closer, I realized that she was holding back tears. Her eyes filled with such strong emotion that the warmth in them moved me.

“You’re going to make a lovely bride, Beth.”

I bit my lip to prevent myself from tearing up as well. She had never referred to herself as mom, and Mr. Plack had never done the same with dad before. But for a small moment, I secretly wished that I were marrying into this loving family to have a mother to do these things with, to have that motherly touch. With Nana gone, I craved and missed that bond so badly.

“What do you think?” My voice was slightly hoarse.

“I love it on you,” Karen said, touching the beading by my waist.

“Me, too,” I lied. Actually, I hated it, but looking at Karen’s face, I just wanted to see her happy.

“Honey, it’s the first dress you’ve tried on. Are you sure you don’t want to try on others?”

I nodded. I didn’t want to try on any more when I knew I’d hate them all. Why prolong the daylong torture of trying on dress after dress when I know my real dress is not here or at any other upscale department store?

“You sure you don’t want to try on any more?” Karen asked again, surveying the dress one last time.

“I’m sure. I love it,” I lied again.

Karen grabbed both of my shoulders to face her. “Beth, you are going to be such a beautiful bride.” She enveloped me in a hug as I saw Crystal Keningston smile at the buy we were about to make.

As we walked into the Club International restaurant of the Drake Hotel, I took in the private dining room cloaked in oak wood as we faced a large Gothic fireplace.

Karen’s eyes crinkled at me as we were seated. “I’m so excited. We have the dress.”

I returned her smile, pleased at her contentment and delighted that I was in her presence. Her carefree aura was contagious, and just being around her made this experience less painful. I would never cease to wonder where this wonderful woman had come from.

After the waiter took our orders, Karen turned to me. “I can’t wait for the big day. We’re only a couple of weeks away.” She sipped her tea and placed the fine china cup, rimmed with a gold trim, back on top of the saucer .

“I know. It’s all happening so fast,” I said.

“Thanks for being patient with him. Kent is not a very patient man. He takes that after his father, but what Kent lacks in patience, he makes up with his big heart.”

She took another sip of tea as she leaned back against her chair. “Right after we were married, we tried for years and years to conceive. We consulted the best doctors, and they couldn’t find anything wrong. Jack suggested that we adopt. I wasn’t against adoption, but I loved Jack so much that I wanted the flesh of his flesh. I wanted his child.” A melancholy smile passed her face as she recalled the struggles of her past. “Then, I decided to throw in the towel and call the adoption agency. I knew Jack would be the perfect father, just like his father, and I wanted to see that happen…and that’s the week I found out I was pregnant.”

She took a deep breath. “The first time I held our little boy in my arms in the delivery room, I studied every feature from the dark fuzz on the top of his head to his cute nose to his big, round brown eyes, and I knew there was nothing more beautiful,” she said. “That’s the first and only time I’ve ever seen my husband cry.” She shook her head to bring herself into focus.

“And so, as you can tell, he is spoiled. We showered him with love and everything he’s ever wanted. He was our one and only even though we kept trying through my child-bearing years.” She fiddled with the rock on her ring finger. “He is how he is because of his upbringing. I take full responsibility for his spoiled side and his obnoxious side and the side of him that doesn’t like the word no. But I also take responsibility for his softer side, his loyal side, the way he loves, and how when he cares, he cares deeply. He’s always pampered this old woman, and he’s spoiled me rotten, just like his father.” She chuckled. “I can only imagine how he’ll pamper you for the rest of his life.”

I was privileged to know Kent’s softer side, a side only a few people had been allowed to see, a side of him that he’d allowed me to see. If someone had told me that first day when we met that he’d turn out to be one of my best friends in Chicago, I never would have believed it. But I’d grown to care for him and his well-being, and overall, I liked being around him. I enjoyed his company.

“So, are you up for more shopping? We still need to pick out the cake and the flowers. Oh, and also we need to choose your shoes!”

I thought I made a not-so-cute face because Karen laughed.

“I’m sorry. I’ve never had a daughter to do this with. I guess I’m a little excited, if you can’t tell already.”

I made up my mind that every decision I had to make in planning this wedding would be to make her happy. I’d have my time later to choose what I wanted when I planned my own wedding.

Licking my fingers, I pulled out a napkin from my pocket and wiped the remnants of chocolate from my hands. Who knew cupcakes from a truck are more delicious than the ones bought from a cupcake store? Seriously, it was the best thing ever.

I glanced at the clear plastic container in my hand that held a little piece of chocolate heaven, and I had to restrain myself from taking a bite of Kent’s cupcake. Instead, I dipped my finger into his frosting and brought it to my lips. He’ll never know. I closed the container and slipped it into the clear bag.

I waved at the security guard as I entered Trump Tower, swinging the bag with every step. When I keyed into Kent’s place, I was unpleasantly surprised.

“Hey.”

“Hi, Luke.” The smile I had left my face instantly.

“What do you have there?” he asked, nodding toward the clear plastic bag I was holding. “Did you bring me something sweet?”

Sitting on the couch, he had one hand behind his head while the other held the remote control. He flipped through the channels while his eyes followed me through the room.

“It’s for Kent.” I dropped my gaze to the floor and backed up until I felt the door flush against my back.

“Oh, that’s too bad. I like sweet.” His voice was low, hoarse.

The undercurrent in his tone gave me the chills but not the good kind.

My eyes scanned the apartment. “Sorry, is Kent here?”

“No, he’s not. Come and take a seat. He should be back soon,” he said, patting the empty spot next to him.

I shook my head and felt my shoulders tense. “It’s okay. I’ll just come back later.” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and averted my eyes from him to the TV.

“Come on, keep me company.”

“Uh…do you know where he went?” I asked, fiddling with the straps of the cupcake bag.

Luke shook his head. “No, but I’m sure he’ll be back.” He patted the seat next to him again. “Promise, I won’t bite.”

I sat at the edge of the recliner next to the couch. An awkward tension occupied the air, and I shifted in my seat, tapping my foot against the floor. I decided I would wait ten minutes tops and then leave.

“I thought I’d pay Kent a visit since I haven’t seen him in weeks.” Luke dropped the remote on the table in front of him and shifted to face me, resting both elbows on his knees. “So, I see you have a key, too?”

“Yeah, he gave it to me. You know, in case he gets locked out and stuff,” I said, glancing at him once before moving my eyes back to the TV.

“You surprise me, Beth.”

When he moved closer to the recliner, I moved my knees in the other direction, feeling my jaw lock and my body stiffen at his closeness.

“When he brought you to the club, I thought you were just another one of his girls, but you’re not his usual type. He likes blondes and the not-so-sweet ones.”

Warily watching him, I shifted in my seat as he moved closer.

“I’m curious about you,” he said, inching forward slowly. “You know the night after we went out clubbing, he called me to tell me you were off-limits. I wasn’t even allowed to breathe in your direction. He wasn’t asking. He was warning me, and I wondered why.” His eyes inspected me from my face to my chest, resting there, before looking back up to my eyes.

“When I would invite him out, he’d say no because he was with you. When I’d invite myself to your dinners, he’d say that you guys were basically done for the evening. I got the hint after a while. After that, I realized one thing…” He inched forward, leaning into me. Our knees were almost touching, and the first instinct I had was to recoil. “He’s protective over you.”

I froze at his closeness, the hairs on my arms standing at full attention.

His eyes narrowed and watched me like a cat. “So, I wondered why. Why would a playboy millionaire give up going out and getting different pussy every single night?”

My eyes widened at his vulgar statement, and I reeled back. When I glared at him, he laughed.

“You wanna know why?” He shifted closer, so he could whisper in my ear. “Because he’s getting some good pussy at home, that’s why.”

He gripped my knee to the point of pain, and I shoved his hand.

“Get your hands off me!”

I jolted up from the couch, but he grabbed my wrist and yanked me back down.

“I want to try this flavor. I want to try sweet for once. Maybe after, I’ll be a good boy, too.”

“In your dreams, bastard.”

I rammed both hands into his chest, but he gripped my wrists tightly, cutting off the blood circulation. He pushed my shoulders to the seat with such force that my neck whipped against the couch, my head bouncing off the cushions. All at once, he was on top of me and had me trapped between his knees.

“Get off of me! Get off!” I screamed. I thrashed back and forth, but my efforts were useless.

I couldn’t move as he moved my wrists with one hand above my head.

“Stop!”

I tried to buck him off of me, but he was too strong.

“Help!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

The first of the tears started to roll off of my face as I realized where this was heading. When I felt him aroused against my leg, I whipped around more. He tightened his knees, and with his free hand, he caressed my breast.

“I like them nice and full.” He licked my tears off my cheek.

“Help!” I let out the loudest scream until my voice was hoarse. All I could hear was my muffled sobs, and all I could taste were my own tears as fear shook my body.

He covered my mouth with his hand, and I bit down hard enough to taste blood.

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he had a small devilish smile on his face. “The difference between Kent and me is that I like it rough.”

With his free hand, he pulled up my skirt.

“No! Please! No!” I begged.

When he tightened his grip with one hand and started to unbuckle his belt with the other, my mind screamed for me to fight. Drawing enough saliva from the back of my throat, I spit in his face. The sound of the slap across my face resonated throughout the whole condo.

“You want it rough, too?” he scowled.

I spit in his face again, and he slapped me harder, my teeth shifting from the impact.

“Get the hell off her!”

Luke and I turned to the door to see Kent.

Before I knew what was happening, Kent exploded from the door, yanked Luke by his collar, and had him suspended against the wall.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Kent yelled, shoving Luke against the wall so hard that his head banged against it. “What are you into now? Rape? What are you thinking?”

“Get off me! I-I can’t breathe,” Luke said, clawing at his own throat.

“What? You can only handle fighting with women? Is that it?” Kent had both hands tightened against his windpipe. “I should kill you. I’ll call the cops and tell them it was self-defense.” Kent’s jaw was taut, and there was a tightness around his eyes that I didn’t recognize. “I’m going to kill you for touching her. I told you to stay away.”

Luke’s face blanched as Kent continued to use both hands to hold him up against the wall, his face inches from Luke’s.

“Stop.” I slowly stood from the couch and pulled down my skirt. I was frightened at the intensity of his words, frightened at Kent’s stance, and scared that there was some truth in what he’d just said. “Kent, stop.” I held my cheek that was still pulsing from the earlier impact. “Please,” I begged, edging closer toward him.

At the sound of my voice, Kent turned and loosened his grip, which gave Luke an opportunity. Luke pushed Kent and fell to the ground on all fours, coughing and gasping for air.

“You’re going to pick that whore over me?” Luke said, using the wall to steady himself.

I heard the impact from across the room as Kent’s fist rammed a direct hit into Luke’s face. Dribbles of blood flowed from Luke’s nose.

“Did you fucking hit her?” Kent asked, glancing back at me as I held my cheek.

Luke staggered and got up again, and the second punch was even louder.

Kent pulled back to take a third swing. “I’m going to mess you up for hurting her, you bastard.”

But I grabbed his arm before he could follow through. “Please. Stop. Enough.” I used both hands to pull his arm down. “Please. Stop.” I couldn’t stand any more violence and I didn’t want to see any more blood.

Kent turned to Luke, who had fallen on the ground. “Get out!” he yelled, pointing at the door.

Luke used the wall to assist himself into an almost standing position. Blood was everywhere—on the floor, on his shirt, on his face. “You’re going to let our friendship end because of that girl?”

Kent narrowed his eyes at him. “We’re not friends, Luke. We have never, ever been friends. You think just because we used to get drunk every night and we’d pick up girls to screw that we had a friendship?” he asked. “We’re not friends. We were people who partied together. It’s not the same thing,” he snapped. “Get the hell out of my condo.”

Luke spit blood onto the floor and glared at me. “You think he can settle down with one girl? I’ve known him since we were eighteen, and he’s never settled down. He never will. He will leave you so fast, you’ll be crying from a broken heart.” He glanced back at Kent one last time before he spun around, stormed out, and slammed the door behind him.

All of a sudden, the fight left me. I felt instantly tired and dropped onto Kent’s couch.

Kent was still facing the door as his hands stayed fisted at his sides. “I should go after that guy and beat him senseless.”

“He’s not even worth it,” I said, holding my cheek, feeling a pulsing pain that spread throughout the whole right side of my face.

Kent turned toward me, his eyes softening. “I’m sorry.”

He walked to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and took out an ice pack. “I forgot that I’d given him a key.” He sat by me and lightly brushed my hair away from my forehead. “If anything happened to you…” He shook his head, shutting his eyes tightly, as a shudder ran through his body.

He removed my hand from my cheek and placed the ice pack on it. I flinched at the coldness.

“Shh…stay still,” he said softly, running his finger up and down my jaw line.

His face was so desolate, so sad. I felt a sudden need to console him. “I bought you a cupcake,” I said, looking up at him.

He peered down at me, holding my eyes, his chestnut brown to my emerald green. “I’ve never wanted to hurt someone so badly.” He squinted and shook his head to compose himself. “I still want to kill him.”

“But if you kill him, then you’ll go to jail, and you won’t be able to eat your cupcake,” I said.

“Beth, it’s not funny,” he said, gazing down at me.

He was right. I always used humor as a defense mechanism of some sort. I shivered at the thought of what had almost happened.

“I know. I’m just glad you showed up when you did,” I said. “Jesse didn’t care if I was there. He’d still hit my mom.” I cringed at the memory. “You know, she’s feisty and has a mouth on her. Sometimes, I thought he did it to just shut her up.” I glanced up at Kent through my lashes. “But you know what? No one ever deserves this,” I said, placing my hand on top of his that was still on my cheek.

“No. No woman ever deserves to be hit by a man—ever. He’s a coward if he does.” Kent adjusted the ice pack. “My father would never even think of raising a hand to my mother. Even at his angriest moments, he would never do that.” He lifted the ice pack and shook his head. “I think you might have a bruise by the morning.”

“I just hope it’s gone before the wedding, or people will think you beat me,” I said, trying to make him smile. It didn’t work. “I’m just trying to make you feel better. Listen, I’m the one who got slapped in the face multiple times. You should be the one trying to make me feel better.” I just wanted to forget what almost happened and move on.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He placed the ice pack on the low coffee table. “What would make you feel better?”

I looked at him, crinkling my nose. “Can I have a bite of your cupcake?”

He shook his head as he reached for the bag that held the chocolate treat. “Sure.”