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"You're the first girl to ride bitch. Is that what you're asking?" I glare at the back of his head, even though the admission makes the butterflies in my stomach take off. "Has anyone ever told you that you're shockingly charming?" He revs the engine. "It's practically my main descriptor."
"I got tired of always having to fight,” I add. “I needed to get away from it all." "Or maybe you were tired of surviving," she says absentmindedly, her gaze on where she's twirling her empty mug. "Maybe you wanted to learn how to live, instead."
“Good girl,” Kane praises, those two words doing more to me than my first boyfriend managed to do in an entire year. I think Kane knows it, too, because his lip twitches when I feel my cheeks flame.
"You play the part, but it's just an act, isn't it? Underneath all that lace and sweetness, you're actually a tigress. You're strong, and passionate, and you’re so fucking sexy."
"What on earth does unhappy Kane look like?" I wonder sarcastically as I lean down to pull the pan out and set it on the stovetop. I'm so mesmerized by the sight of our cheesy, perfect meal, I don't realize Kane has stepped up behind me until his arms go around my waist. He tightens his grip and nuzzles into my neck, and his voice is quiet when he says, "It's getting harder and harder to remember."
"Kane, you deserve to have someone care about you," she says firmly. "You deserve to be loved. Do you hear me? Isabella isn't settling for you. She's been choosing you. Every day. Because you're worthy of being chosen."
