Credence - Page 202

My chin trembles.

“What if…” His arms circle my waist, and he pulls me in tight. “What if a lot changed before the summer?”

I listen.

“What if…”

He grabs my bottom lip between his teeth, making me suck in a breath before he releases it.

“What if we pumped you until you were pregnant?” he whispers.

“To keep me here?” I challenge.

Knocking me up on purpose?

But he shakes his head. “To keep you with me.”

I narrow my eyes.

I open my mouth to speak, but I don’t know what to say. Noah is who I should be with. If anyone. He’s young, kind, attentive… He talks to me. I can grow with him.

He’s good.

So why don’t I tell him that?

I take his face in my hands, not sure what I want to say, but before I have a chance to speak, a dark form appears behind him.

I look over his shoulder, seeing Kaleb. I drop my hands from his brother.

Noah turns, and we both see Kaleb’s gaze on fire as he looks between us. He reaches over, I almost wince, bracing myself for him to grab me or hit Noah, but he simply takes my hand and holds my eyes as he calmly pulls me over to him.

I go, heat instantly traveling up my arm from where his fingers hold me.

He rubs a tendril of my hair between his fingers as he looks into my eyes.

I open my mouth to speak, but I don’t know what I want to say. He’s young, not kind, and not attentive. He doesn’t talk to me, and I can’t grow with him.

Kaleb’s not good.

But he’s the one I want. All to myself. Right now.

In the shower, dark and just us, with his arms around me.

Stupid girl.

His dark eyes dart to his brother, and he jerks his chin, ordering Noah away.

I hear Noah shift on his feet. “You okay with this?” he asks me.

Without taking my eyes off Kaleb, I nod.

I’m sorry, Noah. Some lessons can only be learned the hard way.

Noah lets out a sigh and walks into the shop to join his father as Kaleb threads my fingers through his, leading me up the stairs. I’m sore, I’m tired, and I feel guilty, like I should be confused about a lot right now, but I’m not. All that matters is the next five minutes. The next hour. However long I’m with him.

Instead of leading me to his room, he pushes the door open to my room and pulls me inside, swinging me past him. I stumble as he releases my hand, stopping myself.

What the hell?

Tags: Penelope Douglas Romance
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