Pris's eyebrows rose. "The window means you live to see another day. The door means you may get shot. Jay lives in America now. He bought a gun and doesn't understand what the safety's for so…" She lifted one shoulder in a show of unconcern. "… your choice."

"Window, it is," he muttered, giving me one last comforting look before lowering himself to the balcony.

When he was gone, I wanted nothing more than to hide under the covers. But Pris very quietly walked over to me, sat on the bed, and burst into tears.

I didn't know what to do.

I was the one in trouble, right? The one who should be crying? Not that I regretted anything except for the fact that Jaymeson had walked in on us.

"Pris…" I grabbed her hand.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "I should have been there more. I should have been present, instead of just…" She waved her hands into the air. "… been the sister. Damn it, I'm the mom now, and I'm going to be a mom, and I'm messing up with you. How am I supposed to do it right with our child?" Her eyes were red-rimmed already.

"Whoa, whoa." I pulled her in for a hug, keeping the sheet wrapped around me. "Pris, this isn't about you."

"You had sex!" she wailed. "With a Hollywood heartthrob who's leaving in a few months, and you love him, or at least you think you do, and he got you talking again, which is great, and I love him for it, but I hate him for leaving. He's going to leave, and you're going to be heartbroken, stop talking, and maybe stop eating again, and we're going to be left picking up the pieces that he trail blazed through. Damn it, Lincoln Greene!" She punched the mattress with her hand.

I snapped from my dumbfounded state. "Pris, geez! At least take a breath. You're turning blue and that's bad for the baby." I shook my head and grabbed her hand, but the words just kept tumbling from her. Words like heartbroken, rich, playboy, bastard. Pris had never been one to overreact, so I knew part of it was her hormones and the other part guilt. I knew guilt well. Oh, did I know it. I squeezed her hand and whispered. "He's not like that. Do you really think he'd risk everything? His career? His relationship with Jaymeson? Just so he could sleep with me?"

"Yes." She nodded, wiping away a few tears. "That's exactly what I think, Miss Forbidden Fruit."

Guilt gnawed at my chest. I felt bad for letting her down and guilty that I was more upset about getting caught than anything. But I was old enough to make my own decisions, right?

He wouldn't leave.

Lincoln might be a lot of things, but he wasn't that guy.

I refused to put him in that category. The Elliot category, the one who took what you offered and then dumped you the minute things got hard.

"Right now…" I gripped her hand tightly. "… I don't need a mom. I need a sister. I need a friend. You can't undo what's been done, and I wouldn't want you to in the first place. He… You're right." Tears welled in my eyes. "I love him."

"That's great." Pris's voice was weak. "It really is. And I'd love to sit here and support you, but I have a bad feeling about him. Don't take me wrong. I don't think he's a bad guy, I just… What happens if things go back to the way they were? I couldn't care less about him. I care about you. I want you happy, and I can't handle losing you again."

"Then don't push me away because I slept with the man I love," I said softly. "And trust me to make my own choices. Can you do that?"

"No." She laughed through her tears. "But I'll try. You know… sex with an actor, not the smartest choice."

"Um, you're married to one."

"Married," she said softly. "I married him first."

All the blood left my head. "You — you what?"

"Jaymeson and I… we were married first. Committed. After Dad died, there was this weird unsaid thing, us being a pastor's daughters. Jaymeson couldn't do it. He just… felt like he was doing things wrong every time he kissed me. Like if Dad was still alive, he would have asked permission to date me. He would have done things right. I was so broken after their death, so worried about you that the last thing he wanted was to add more guilt. So… we eloped."

"I didn't know that," I said more to myself than to her.

"You didn't need to…" She shrugged. "… but you're right. What's done is done. I just… I hope you know what you're doing. You're seventeen, you have a whole life to live, things to experience, but if you're sure he's what you want, I won't stand in your way. Just don't let a person ever have that type of control over you, where you're so invested in them that, if or when they leave, you lose a part of yourself. Okay?"

My lower lip trembled. "Okay."

She was quiet for a minute. Then a smile crossed her features, softening her face. "Now…" She sighed. "… I'm going to play the part of the best friend." Pris crossed her arms. "How was it?"

I hid under the sheet then let out an "Amazing."

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Lincoln

I EXPECTED JAYMESON TO FIRE ME. Hell, I would have fired me. Did I have any regrets? No. But it was his sister-in-law. His underage, gorgeous, sister-in-law, whom he referred to as his little sister. Damn it, what had I been thinking?