Because as much as I love Dallas, I hate that we have to hide. And some rebellious, hidden, bold, stupid part of me wishes that we could be open and out there and real.
We can't, though. I know we can't. The law and our parents and the threat of public humiliation keep us trapped firmly in the shadows. And, honestly, I've never been too fond of the spotlight, so the idea of having tabloid attention focused on me because I'm sleeping with my brother really doesn't sit well.
But it's not just family and privacy and social mores that are keeping us apart. There's Deliverance, too. Because as long as Dallas is Top Secret Vigilante Guy, everything in his life is going to remain hidden, including the man he truly is. A man so very different from the one he shows the public. A man that even I don't fully know or understand, because we haven't yet talked about how Deliverance operates or about its core mission to track--and presumably kill--the miserable excuses for human beings who kidnapped us both seventeen years ago.
"Hey," Fiona says, her forehead creasing as she peers at me. "You okay?"
"Fine." I force a smile, even though I feel like crying. Because for the first time it's fully hit me. He's mine. Dallas Sykes is absolutely, one hundred percent, totally mine.
And yet I can never truly have him.
Not in the way that counts. Not in the way that matters.
We're living a lie that is shiny and perfect and wonderful in the shadows, but that shrivels and dies in the harsh light of day.
I love him. I do.
And even though we promised each other that we would make this work, I can't help but fear that's a promise we never should have made. Because it's a promise that is impossible to keep.