The sheets are tangled up around Victoria's legs. It's cold in the suite. Distantly, she thinks it would be nice to get up and turn the heat on. The thought is quickly crushed when Matt rolls onto his side, draping an arm over the young woman's stomach, fingers brushing idly over her ribs.

 

“Are you up?” Victoria keeps her words soft, just in case he’s still asleep.

 

He is. The room is silent aside from their breathing and the occasional shift of sheets. It's the sort of thing Victoria has always longed for, being able to curl up with someone that she actually loves, that she actually cares for.

 

It's the sort of thing that, if Gabriella has her way, will never happen.

 

Victoria's lips pull into a thin line. She pushes the bangs out of her face. “I can't do this.”

 

The words are little more than a whisper. All the same, they seem to carry the weight of the world.

 

Matt yawns. It's nothing but a brush of hot air against Victoria's neck. “What?”

 

“I didn't mean to wake you,” apologizes Victoria, rolling over so she can hide her face against the biker's chest. He smells like stale sweat and motor oil. “Sorry, Matt.”

 

“What's wrong?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“You're talking to yourself at, what, six in the morning? Either something's wrong or I just fucked a crazy girl.”

 

“Maybe you did,” whispers Victoria, because she's feeling pretty crazy right about now. The very thought of having her “Happily Ever After” so close makes her heart beat faster, her mouth feel too dry, and her skin feel too tight. “Maybe that's all I am: completely insane.”

 

Fingers run idly along Victoria's spine. They splay out, palm settling between her shoulder blades. “If anyone knows crazy, it's me. Trust me when I say it’s not you. So, seriously, what's wrong?”

 

Victoria shakes her head.

 

Matt snorts. “After last night, you actually have something you're embarrassed about?”

 

“I'm not embarrassed,” whispers Victoria. Already, there are hot tears pricking at the edges of her eyes. “I'm upset.”

 

“Over what? Listen, if last night was too much for you—”

 

“No!” Victoria is quick to answer, shaking her head harder this time. “No, it's not you! It's nothing you did, Matt. It's something that…that I can't do.”

 

“Okay,” says Matt, stretching the word out a bit too long. “Then what can't you do?”

 

“This,” admits Victoria. “What my mother wants. I can't marry the Duke. I can't spend my life with someone I don't really love.”

 

“But you could spend it with me.”

 

“I love you,” admits Victoria. “I love you, and it's so unfair that I can almost reach out and choke myself with the thought. I love you so much, and I can't ever be with you.”

 

“You're with me now,” says Matt. “You can be with me tomorrow, too. That's what you're thinking about, right? You're thinking about tomorrow and the day after and raising that fucking baby.”

 

Victoria bites back a sob. She presses herself as close to Matt as she can, fingers scrabbling at his chest in an attempt to get even closer. “I can't do it with him. I can't raise her with him!”

 

“Her?”

 

“I know. I know it's going to be a girl. I don't know how, I just... I know I'm going to have a daughter.”

 

“We're going to have a daughter,” says Matt, and it's like he loses every last breath when he says it. “I'm going to have a kid. You know, I've never actually thought that would happen.”

 

“That's the problem,” says Victoria. “We can't have a daughter. I can't…I can't be with you! My mother, she won't let it happen. She would never let me be with you, and she's never going to let me choose who I'm with.”

 

Matt buries his nose in Victoria's hair. It's a tangled, knotted mess. The thin blonde strands cling to his upper lip. “Just tell her to fuck off.”

 

Victoria gives a wet laugh. “I can't. You don't understand, Matt, I'm not just her daughter, I'm her heir apparent to the throne. I'm the next in line—the only one left in line—and that means I don't get to choose.”

 

“Bullshit,” spits Matt. “Everyone's got a choice! Look at me!”

 

“My mother would hate that example,” says Victoria, finally pulling away from the man. She rolls onto her back, arms splayed out to either side, fine hair forming a crown on her pillow. “My mother would hate you.”

 

Matt pushes himself up onto one elbow. “Does that matter?”

 

“I don't know,” admits Victoria. “All I know is it would kill me to spend my life with the Duke. How my mother has done it is beyond my comprehension. I don't understand how she's done it, and I don't want to understand.” Victoria lets one hand rest on her stomach. She's only just starting to show. Her other hand stretches up, curling her fingers through the air like she could almost touch her dreams.

 

Matt sits up all the way. He swings his legs over the edge of the bed, feet resting on the floor. “You want a smoke?”

 

“What?” Victoria blinks, tilting her head to the side so she can stare at the scarred expanse of Matt's back.

 

Matt repeats himself. “Do you want a smoke?”

 

“I…no?”

 

“Well, I need one. You care?”

 

“We aren't supposed to smoke in the suite.”

 

“No shit. I saw the sign. I was asking if you cared.” Matt gets up and grabs his pants from the floor. He pulls a pack of Marlboro's from the back pocket and fishes out a single cigarette and a lighter. When he turns back to face Victoria, there's a slight grin on his face.

 

Victoria sits up. She smiles back at him. “No, I don't mind, on one condition.”

 

Matt flicks the lighter. A flame dances over the end of his cigarette. “And what's that?”

 

“Come sit back down.”

 

“I planned on it.”

 

“Good,” says Victoria, and the moment Matt is seated beside her once more, she wraps an arm around his waist and leans against his shoulder. “I don't want you to leave just yet.”

 

Those words, it seems, end up being a flaw in the plan, for no sooner do they leave Victoria's mouth than the door to the suite opens.