"You were right."
Callum tilts his head, brushing a damp strand of hair off my forehead. "About what?"
I hesitate, because I’ve already tried to bring this up once. I decide that I have to try, and then whisper, "About us needing to be closer. If we’re going to convince everyone this engagement is real, we can’t just be pretending in public. It has to be believable. Even in private."
His eyes darken, but not with lust. With restraint.
"Bambi," he murmurs, voice hoarse, "you don’t know what you’re saying."
"I do," I say, forcing the words through the ache in my throat. "My parents always get what they want. And eventually, they’ll find someone else for me to marry. Someone like Vincent. But right now, it’s you. And I don’t want my firsts to belong to someone else."
He stills.
His jaw flexes.
"Unless you don’t want?—"
"I was honest with you. I don’t want to hurt you," he interrupts, voice sharp, low. "And I don’t think I can control myself with you."
My stomach flips. Not with fear. With something exciting. Something that makes me tremble for a different reason.
"Maybe we should set rules," he says softly.
I lift a brow, not really understanding where he’s going with this. "Rules?"
I don’t know what he’s thinking about, but all he can do is nod before he says, “Rules for when we’re alone, and rules for when we’re not.”
I’ve made it my mission to give him a hard time in the past whenever he’s bossy or pushy, but right now... I actually really like the way he’s being with me.
His mouth curves slightly, just the ghost of a smirk. But the weight in his eyes is all seriousness.
"What do you have in mind, cowboy? Me wearing a beekeeper outfit so no one can look at me?" I ask, a teasing smile on my lips.
He frowns, and then his expression turns into the cutest pout. "Actually, yes, that sounds like a great idea."
I roll my eyes and smack his chest lightly. Despite the shitstorm around us, I feel lighter. Safer. Like everything might actually be okay.
Callum steps closer, his fingers reaching for the zipper at the back of my dress. "We'll figure everything out later. You’re covered in blood. Let me help."
I nod.
He undresses me slowly. Carefully. Like each inch of skin he reveals is something that he doesn’t ever want anyone else to see.
When I’m bare in front of him, he doesn’t touch me, not yet. Instead, he whispers, "Tell me a secret no one else knows."
I swallow. My chest tightens.
"My parents hate me," I say. "They always have. I’ve never felt like I belong anywhere. Not with them anyway."
His hands glide up my sides, over my ribs, until one settles around my neck. It’s not tight, just firm, keeping my attention on him.
"You’re beautiful. Stunning, actually. But that’s not a secret. I’ve told you that I didn’t hook up with the girls on campus like everyone thinks I did. I also told you that you were my first kiss, but I want to make it clear to you that I’m a virgin. I’ve never touched another woman."
My mouth falls open.
He chuckles. "Don’t worry, baby. I know how it works. When the time is right, I’ll make sure you’ll never forget it."
"Why?" I ask softly. I wonder if it’s because of the scars on his back.
