My long legs shake, banging the too-short table with every nervous bounce. I grab my coffee cup to keep it from spilling. Not sure the caffeine is helping at this time of night, but I wasn’t really thinking straight when I ordered, so I went with my usual.

I’m sitting at Amelia’s, a French bakery not too far from my apartment complex, waiting for Maddie. It’s a funky little place with amazing pastries, great food, and a ton of specialty drinks. I stop here to grab a medium-roast coffee almost every morning.

My palms are sweaty as I grip my coffee cup tonight. Maddie texted me about an hour ago asking me to meet her here at eight p.m. A follow-up text said she was breaking up with Trent tonight and she needed someone to meet with me after, to help her keep up her strength. Though she never responded when I asked for more information, I rushed home, showered, and changed quickly so I could make it in time.

And here I sit, on edge, hoping Maddie is okay. A million unanswered questions have run through my mind since getting her texts.

I hope she’s doing it here—or somewhere in public. I don’t expect her telling him it’s over is going to go well. He doesn’t seem like the type of guy to let things go easily, but I have a strong suspicion Trent wouldn’t do anything crazy in public. He’s a behind-closed-doors guy. He’d never risk ruining his impeccable reputation by letting someone see his true colors.

It’s only been about five minutes since I sat down, but it seems like hours when I hear heels tapping on the concrete floors, coming toward me with purpose. I look up to see Maddie striding toward me in a black pantsuit and that makes her look incredibly lean, sexy, and powerful. Her hair is tied back, in a low ponytail that shows off her beautiful delicate neck. She is sexy as fuck. And seeing her in her executive element has my dick jumping to attention, ready to salute her when I stand.

I rise to greet her. “Everything okay?”

She nods and smiles, but it’s tired and doesn’t reach her eyes. I immediately pull a chair out for her. She hangs her purse over the back before lowering herself into the seat. When she sits, I do, as well.

“How are you doing?” I ask gently.

She leans forward, placing her elbows on the table and holding her head in her hands. Then she closes her eyes for a moment, taking a mental break. When she finally opens her eyes, her gaze is locked on the table. “I feel lighter than I have in a long time. Like a huge weight has been lifted.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

She nods.

When I take one of her hands in mine, she looks up at me. “Promise?”

“I promise,” she whispers. Then she straightens her shoulders and sits straight in her chair. The brief moment of weakness is over, and the facade of strength and control is back. Because of her appearance, I’m almost tricked into believing it.

“Thank you so much for meeting me here. The thought of going straight home after that made me nervous.”

The weight of her words hit me hard. This is the same woman who, just a few days ago, would barely admit that Trent pushed her into the pool. Telling me she fears going home by herself is a huge step.

“I’m glad you asked me. Do you think he would go to your place?”

“Honestly?” She lifts her weary eyes to mine. “Yes. He doesn’t let things go easily. He’s chased me. Followed me. Waited outside of my building and restaurants before. It’s like he wanted to catch me doing something.”

“Jesus, that’s fucked up.” My words come out with an exhale. “You must have been terrified.”

“I got used to it.” She glances over her shoulder when a woman squeezing by our table bumps her unintentionally.

“You got used to being stalked by your own boyfriend?”

Maddie shrugs and sips her drink. “It’s how he was. If I confronted him, he got angry and violent, so I just ignored it. Pretended everything was fine. Pretended I was surprised to see him.”

“You don’t have to take it anymore. I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that. You’re the only one I could call. The only one I trust right now.” She pauses and sets her cup down. For some reason, it feels like coffee with a friend suddenly transformed into a business meeting. “We need to talk about what we discussed.”

“What did we discuss?”

“Getting into a relationship—a fake relationship, of course.”

“Maddie.” I sigh. “I told you I was joking. It was a ridiculous request.”

“Maybe you were, but I need you right now, and the scenario we discussed would be beneficial for both of us.”

Her words sear like a stake straight through my heart. She needs me—but it’s all business.

“I’d like to hear more about your situation, Erik. I’ve told you my truth. Now I want to hear yours.”

“My truth? I don’t know what that is,” I say, leaning back in my chair and looking up at the clear plastic chandelier, fashioned to look like crystal hanging above the table.

Multiple chandeliers in all colors, shapes, and sizes hang from the ceilings in each room at Amelia’s. The interesting decor—a difficult-to-describe mishmash of bohemian, French-inspired, eclectic pieces—is one of the things that draws people to the various locations. How often do you see a replica of the Mona Lisa with sunglasses stuck over her eyes, or a painting of Napoleon with a word bubble coming out of his mouth, asking for a salted-caramel brownie?

“What do you want it to be?” Maddie asks.

“That’s the magic question. Truth can be manipulated. Isn’t that right? A week ago, the truth was that you and Trent were one of Charlotte’s power couples. Today’s truth is a bit different.”

“That’s not truth, that’s perception.” Maddie’s cool, blue eyes don’t waver.

“What’s the difference?” I ask.

Our conversation just took a turn, but it’s okay, because I really want to get into her head. For as much as I thought I knew about her, I realize now it was years ago and we’ve both changed. I knew a sweet, bubbly teenager with big future plans. She once told me she wanted to start a program where Commons would donate an article of clothing to someone in need for each article of clothing sold—sort of like the TOMS Shoes’ model. But that was years ago, before Harris started grooming her for taking over the family business. I’m not insinuating she’s not that same person—or that she doesn’t have those same big, world-changing plans. But the truth is—I don’t know. Maybe I’m holding on to the ideal image of a teenage girl I fell in love with who no longer exists.

“Perception is how people see something. Truth is what you know about yourself. I perceive that you are a U.S. citizen, but I know now that is not the truth.”

“Touché.” I tip my coffee cup to her before taking a sip.

“So, let’s start over.” She sighs and leans back. “Some people may have had a perception of my relationship with Trent. Their perception may be their reality, but it isn’t my truth. Now tell me your story.”

Damn, it’s sexy when she tells me what to do. The demand prickles the hair on the back of my neck. It’s making other things tingle, as well, but I’m not going down that route right now.

I nod to her drink. “You need a refill before I start this?”

Maddie peers into her cup. “Mine’s full, thank you.” She leans back and runs a hand through her hair, shaking it through her fingers before letting it fall over her shoulders. The action shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does, but she’s got that hair that looks like she just stepped off the runway at a Victoria’s Secret fashion show. Maybe I should agree to the fake relationship just to see if she’ll model lingerie for me.

“The truth is,” I begin, focusing my attention back to the story, “I didn’t even know I wasn’t a citizen until my senior year of high school. A few buddies and I were planning a trip for Spring Break and I needed a passport. When I started gathering the documents I needed, I asked my grandfather where my birth certificate was. That’s when he told me the real story of my childhood.”

“What do you mean, the real story?”

I take a deep breath. We’re in truth mode right now, but I can still tell the truth without telling every detail of the story. “I always thought my parents broke up after I was born and my father couldn’t handle a kid, so he sent me to live with his parents, my grandparents.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Erik. I didn’t realize—”

“Promise me something?” I interrupt her.

“What?”

“Don’t feel sorry for me. I’m not my family’s choices. I’m doing okay.” The last thing I want from her—or anyone—is pity.

Maddie nods. “I know. I promise.”

“My grandfather said my mom moved with me, to Chicago from the Czech Republic, when I was a year old. She already had me when she met the dude I believed was my dad. They broke up when I was three. She went back, but left me here to have a better life and all that shit. Fake Dad wasn’t all about the kid-life, so he sent me down here to be raised by his parents.”

The guy wasn’t even my real father, but she left me here with him anyway. I still can’t fully comprehend that, but I don’t remember. Maybe she did have my best interests in mind. I’m not ready to reveal much more about my mom because the entire truth about her is more than I want to admit right now.

“Wait, so the people who raised you aren’t related to you at all?”

“Correct.”

“Why would they do that?” Maddie blurts out. Then her eyes get wide and she starts to backtrack. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that as rude as it came out.”

I’m not hurt or offended. I get it.

“I asked my grandfather that same question. He said because it was the right thing to do. I guess, back then, the guy I thought was my dad was into drugs. It’s sort of how he and my mom met, while he was backpacking across Europe. They knew he didn’t have the means or desire to take care of me. So, they offered to raise me.”

The family I have here is not my own, but they’re all I’ve ever known—and they loved me as though I were a blood relation. Hell, my grandfather left me his business. Maybe they were trying to right the wrong, of my mother abandoning me, in their own way. They never really said why they did it. But they always made it clear they loved me and never regretted the decision. That’s all I needed. Growing up with that kind of unconditional love was all the explanation I ever needed. I didn’t need to question my mother’s choices—or her lifestyle that led to those choices.

I’ve never heard from my mother since she left. Didn’t even think about her until recently, when the reality of my situation hit me. I will have to go to a country I never remember being in. I don’t know a soul in the Czech Republic. I’ve never had contact with anyone there. I don’t even know my birth mother’s name.

It doesn’t matter. The only thing that does is that I was brought here illegally and I didn’t even know until I was seventeen. I’ve lived my entire life as an American citizen. Once I found out my situation, I talked to my grandfather and he went to Harris Commons for help. On the advice of an immigration lawyer he set us up with—and paid for—my application for a Deferred Action program for people who had been brought to America illegally as children.

“That was really selfless.”

“It was. I’m very lucky to have been raised by amazing people. I’m grateful for them and the opportunities they gave me.”

Maddie’s lips slide into a sincere smile that makes the skin around her eyes crinkle. Her defined cheekbones glow with a stunning, pale pink blush. She’s a gorgeous woman. She always has been, even as a teenager, when those cheeks were a bit more round. As she got taller, she lost some of the cute curves, but I’m not complaining. She’s a fucking ten in anyone’s book.

“Okay, so technically, you weren’t born here, but you’ve been here almost your entire life. You were a baby. Can’t you just apply for citizenship or something?”

“I wish it worked that way. There are all these rules. I’d have to leave the country, and the chances of me being able to re-enter would be next to none.”

“It doesn’t make any sense.” She shakes her head, as if trying to wrap her head around how ridiculous it is. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You were brought here as a child. You didn’t make the decision.”

“I know.” I’ve screamed everything she’s saying to the sky on multiple occasions as I’ve tried to figure this out—tried to find a way to stay.

“You’re as much of an American as I am.”

“In theory.”

“You’re a business owner. You pay taxes.”

“I know.” Technically, I don’t own my business. Her father does, but she doesn’t know that. It really is a technicality, as I run everything. We have signed documents, specifically stating that Harris has no control over my business. He agreed to put it in his name after my grandfather passed away. I didn’t feel comfortable because of my immigrant status and Harris is a successful business owner. It made sense, and I trusted that he would be true to his word. We’ve never had any issues at all.

Secrets. Lies. The kind of webs I never wanted to weave because of how many I’ve been caught in. In six months, my work permit will expire with no chance for renewal—and I will be deported to a country I have no family ties or loyalty to, simply because I tried to do the right thing when I found out my situation. At first, I was confused and mad as hell. But I applied for Deferred Action because I thought that was the right thing to do. Admitting that I knew and wanted to make things right. I wasn’t trying to hide or sneak around. I thought I was acting in good faith.

“Aren’t you angry?”

“Of course I am, Maddie. I’m reeling inside. I’m heartbroken. I’m appalled. I’m furious. I’m trying to figure out what to do. How to stay.” My fingers clench around my cup. I’ve already been through the stages of grief, and, for the most part, I’ve accepted that I’ll be required to leave the country when my work permit expires. Over the last few months, I’ve tried to keep my focus on what I can do to stay, and how to tie up any loose ends here if I am forced to leave.

Still, talking about the situation gets me worked up.

“How are you so calm?”

Calm?

My eyes fall to my crushed cup and I chuckle. “Because, despite all my fears and the fact that my entire life is falling apart, I have to focus on what I can control right now. And the only thing I can control is work. Money. A job. Taking care of my grandmother while I’m here and being able to pay for her care.”

Maddie bites her lip and I immediately feel like a dickbag. I wasn’t trying to be mean or sound so snarky. I’m just stating the facts—my truth, as she calls it.

“I’m sorry,” I say quickly, slumping in my chair. “I just don’t know what will happen to her if I get deported. And it scares the shit out of me.”

Though I know she’s getting the best care I can afford, the thought of leaving my grandmother is haunting my thoughts—even in my sleep. I have a few good friends from high school, who’ve told me they’d visit her every once in a while. As much as I love them, and know they’re stand-up guys, who would be true to their word, I don’t think it would last long. It’s easy to forget to visit when it’s not your loved one. And once people walk into a nursing home, the shabby decor, bleak rooms, and sour stench in the air are a complete assault on the senses and emotions. It’s not a place you’re rushing to get back to.

Then there’s the other reason that leaving scares the shit out of me…the one I’m not ready to admit to Maddie yet. Leaving her here with Trent will scare the shit out of me too. I don’t know what else he’s done, but I know he’s hurt her. Now that we’ve formed a bond, I can’t stand the thought of not being around to protect her.

“You won’t be deported,” Maddie says firmly.

“How can you be so sure?”

“I won’t let that happen. I’m not letting someone send you away to a country you haven’t been in since you were a baby.”

“Well, it’s not someone, Maddie. It’s the Department of Homeland Security.”

“I don’t care, Erik. I’m going to fight this. It’s absolutely ridiculous. Do you have a lawyer?”

“My grandfather and I spoke to someone back when I applied for Deferred Action. That’s the agreement that’s keeping me here for the time being,” I say. “That’s what the lawyer advised me to do once I found out I wasn’t a citizen.”

“Okay, so you did the right thing.”

“Was it?” I ask. It’s a bit of a rhetorical question, since I’m throwing Maddie into a situation she has no knowledge of and no control over. “Signing up meant I admitted I was illegal. It means I’m on record. When it’s time, they can track me down and kick me out. Maybe I should have stayed under the radar and let them find me the hard way.”

“You did what you thought was right at the time,” Maddie says. “I’m not letting you do this alone, Erik. We’re going to figure this out. If we have to get married, we get married.”

She’s really serious about this. I should have realized that, once she had an idea in her head, she wouldn’t let it go. I just never thought I’d be directly involved in one of her crazy ideas.

“I’m awed at how adamant you are about helping me.”

“I care about you, Erik. I don’t want you to be forced to move to a country you’ve never really lived in. A place you have no ties to.”

The silence between us is thick, heavy.

“You care about me?” I ask softly. My heart races as I scoot my chair over a little more, trying to get as close to her as I can in this clunky, old, dining chair with arms.

“I always have.”

“Tell me more about that.” I can’t keep the smile off my face. It’s probably smug, but deep down, I always knew she liked me.

“Oh, come on! I’ve had a crush on you since we were kids. You had to have known that.” She leans back, as if she’s embarrassed. Her cheeks flush a deeper pink that makes my dick twitch. “I made sure I was always home after school on Tuesdays. No matter what was going on. Practices, things with friends or family. I had to be home after school on Tuesdays.”

Damn! She had it all planned out. “I knew you had a crush on me, but I didn’t know you went to that extent.”

“Oh totally. I was completely boy crazy—and you were the object of my affection.” She covers her face with her hand as if she’s embarrassed to reveal a silly teenage secret.

“Affection or obsession?” I tease.

“Oh, hush! I thought you were so hot. I couldn’t wait to catch a glimpse of you.”

My gaze drops to her chest quickly, but I bring it back up just as fast. Hearing her admit she thinks I’m attractive and that she used to watch me turns me on. Every fantasy I’ve ever had about her pops into my head. That’s when I decide I’m going to have some fun with this fake relationship, even if it’s just getting to see her all hot and bothered.

“Thought I was hot? Past tense?”

Her chest heaves when she takes a deep breath. Her tongue flicks out to moisten her lips before she answers. “Present tense. You’re absolutely gorgeous, Erik.”

I reach out, sliding my palm across her cheek and into her silky, blonde curls. Suddenly, loud commotion coming from the front of the bakery pulls me out of the moment. I peer over her head as people in line start calling out.

“That was rude.”

“Excuse me.”

“What an ass.”

Maddie is about to turn around when Trent barrels through, pushing his way past tables like an elephant in a coffee shop.

“What the hell is going on?” he roars.

Maddie and I both jump out of our chairs. I place my body in front of hers so Trent has to go through me before he can reach her. Several other people get out of their seats and move toward our table, as well, and I’m instantly grateful to have supportive strangers who are willing to help out.

Trent isn’t a giant—on the contrary, he’s fairly short—but he’s a stocky dude with broad shoulders and a thick neck, like he goes hard at a CrossFit cult multiple times a week.

His face is red with rage. A patch of light brown hair flops over his forehead, but it doesn’t cover his beady eyes darting from me to Maddie. “I knew it! I knew you were cheating on me,” he yells, pointing a fat finger at Maddie.

Adrenaline charges through my veins. My fists curl at my sides, but I keep my composure. “Dude, you need to chill out,” I tell him through clenched teeth. Hopefully he doesn’t mistake my calm demeanor for being passive. I want to punch this guy so hard…

His head snaps back to me. The menacing grimace looks natural, as if he gets this angry so often his face is used to morphing into the evil version of the incredible hulk.

“You fucking whore!” he spits out.

Fuck no. He’s not going to talk to Maddie like that. Not on my watch.

I’m a split-second from punching him when an Amelia’s employee grabs his shoulder and pulls him backward. “You’ve gotta leave, man. Right now,” he says, tightening his grip and spinning Trent around.

Maddie grabs the back of my T-shirt and holds on tight. She’s shaking so much her knuckles knock against my back.

Trent shuffles backward, staring at me, as if he’s memorizing my face. I smile.

Take a long look, you piece of shit-motherfucker. Next time you pull something like this, I won’t be so civil.

I swallow back the words I’m thinking. No need to aggravate the situation or make Maddie any more scared than she already is. Normally, I wouldn’t even think of doing something that would get me in trouble, but I’d take on an army of Trents for Maddie.

“Thanks,” I say to the people around us who got up to help, as they slowly move back to their seats.

“What a fucking psycho,” one of the guys whispers.

When Maddie releases my shirt, I spin around and take her in my arms. Her heart pounds against my chest, and I feel it straight to my toes. Instinctively, I press my lips on the top of her head and squeeze her tighter. In this moment, I vow to do everything in my power to make sure she never feels this kind of fear again.

I dip my head to her ear and ask, “You wanna get out of here?”

As much as I love Amelia’s, we need a vibe change right now. My favorite brewery in town happens to be right across the street. Maybe she’s game to head over there for a minute. Give us both time to compose ourselves.

Maddie stiffens in my arms. “He might be outside. He might be waiting.” Her voice is a wavering whisper.

“It’s okay. We’ll wait a few minutes. And I’ll be right here with you. You’re not leaving me to fend for myself and I’m not doing that to you either. From now on, we’re joined at the hip, okay?”

Maddie leans back, looking up to meet my gaze. Her blue eyes enchanted me the very first time I saw them, but this time is completely different. This isn’t the giggling teenager peering out at me from behind her parents’ front door. This time, she’s begging for trust, protection, commitment. Things I can give her—for the next six months, at least.

“Promise?” she whispers.

“Promise.” I intertwine my fingers with hers and squeeze her hand. “Finish your drink. I’ll be right back.”

Before Maddie and I head out to the parking lot, I check with the employee who escorted Trent away from us. He assured me he watched Trent get in his car and drive off. Still, I’m extremely concerned that he’s out there somewhere, waiting, like Maddie said. My other concern is that he went straight to Maddie’s place. I don’t want to worry her—or make her paranoid, but I do know one thing—I’m not leaving her alone tonight.

I can’t guarantee what will happen when I’m gone, but I will protect her while I’m here.