I nodded. "You're more than qualified for that job." She grinned at me. Then took a couple more bites of her sandwich, nodding in approval. She grabbed the water and sipped, then put it down on the counter. "Not bad, Bigfoot." I grabbed her bottled water, tipped it to my mouth so she wouldn't see my smile, and almost spilled. She chewed for a minute. I knew she was busy contemplating something. Kara didn't think quietly. Her face showed her emotions. "Everyone is asking me why I work so hard. The people at work gossip about me. Talking about why I do so much OT and where my money goes. I don't care. I can take all that. I've been bullied worse than that when I was younger. They think they can stop me, hurt me with harsh words. They better think again. I'm made of steel, baby. Steel. I've had worse and that mean girl bullying shit sure as hell won't get to me." "They're gossiping about you because you work hard?" "I have seniority over them. When there's OT at work, I take it. Almost all the time. So they're mad at me because they can't. They think I'm a bitch and you know what? I don't give a crap. I don't have time to join them on outside work gatherings either because I have a lot of shit to do. So on top of being a bitch, I heard I'm also a snob. Yummy. Get over it, bitches. "In my family, Dylan and I are the only ones who don't have a degree. My dad doesn't either. My mother running away with another man was the icing on the cake. So most of my relatives look down on us. I detest family dinners with them. They all feel superior. I hate condescending advice masked as concern and fake love. It's so cheap. It's crap. I reject it. That breaks my dad's heart because he loves those assholes. And it hurts me because I love my dad so much. Degrees and money could be very useful, but they don't buy morals or values or a heart. "I get up every morning and force myself to work because I see that amazing man, my dad, working harder than anyone I've ever met for his family. I respect the hell out of him. I want to be like him. "I work hard not because I want to prove to everyone that I can do it. I work hard because I want to prove to myself that I can do it. And I will. I can save my family from this. Money has always been tight. I can help my dad out. I can give him what he deserves. Dylan, too. He's always been a softie and he takes it hard when people say bad things about my family. There are so many things that could stop me if I let them. "But I can't let anything bother me—I won't. Because I don't want to sacrifice my world just to be in other people's. I want my own world. Filled with all the people I care about." She lowered her eyes, taking a deep breath. I watched her silently as she finished her sandwich, sipped from her water bottle, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Like a little child. But she was a woman. A woman with a heart of a child. A child who wore her heart on her sleeve. But had learned to protect it with thorns. Was it a wonder why no matter how hard I tried to let her go, I couldn't? Why I wanted, desperately, to be in her world? "Kara," I said gruffly. "Am I in it?" She looked up and our eyes met and held. Everything that I wanted, without knowing I wanted... was in her eyes. "You know you are, Cam," she whispered. "You just hid from me for a while. But you're here now." I stepped forward. She lowered her legs on the counter so she could wrap them around my waist. I placed my hands on the small of her back, pulling her closer to me. "I am," I murmured. "I want to... stay." "Then stay." She rested her chin on my shoulder, wrapped her arms around my torso. "But I want you to do something for me." Anything. "What is it?" "I want you to... accept the things that are true to me and don't go behind my back to do what you think is best for me. I can work hard, take all the bad things people dish out at me and flick that shit off. Besides, I can dish it out harder. So don't worry about Andrew. I don't want you to be lending me money. I have savings." "All right. I must've put a dent in it with my motorcycle." "Well, I had to use my tuition for next semester." "Shit. I'm a son of a bitch. I'm paying you back." She pulled back. "Are you now?" Her tone said no. She played with the ends of my hair, twirling it around her finger. "You know I always wondered, ever since I saw you, how it would feel like to touch your hair. It's so black. And perfectly curled and soft. What shampoo are you using?" I chuckled. "Whatever's in the bathroom." She pulled. "Ouch. I don't know. Whatever I can grab at the store. I'm not picky." She rested her cheek on my shoulder again, rubbed. "Hey, Cam?" "Hmm?" "Why did you do that?" "Do what?" "Blackmailed me to drive you. You didn't need me. You have your own vehicle." "I..." I paused. "I think I just knew. I wanted you. I want you." "You mean... that very first time you saw me?" I stroked her back, kissing her shoulder. "Yeah," I whispered. "I saw you that day, and I knew I had to see you again." "Well, keep seeing me and don't go anywhere again." I nibbled on her shoulder. "Cam?" "Yeah?" "I'm full and now I'm sleepy." "Come on, then." I gripped her hips and lifted her up. She wrapped her arms and legs around me. I laid her on the bed, stretched out beside her, gathering her in my arms. "It feels so... new. Being here with you," she said softly. "It feels right." It f ucking does. She wiggled her butt against me, and I clenched my jaw as she tried to find the perfect comfortable position. "Night, Cam." I sighed against her hair, curled my arm around her. "Night, baby." We were beginning a relationship—one that both of us never expected or had before. It was always a damn rollercoaster ride with her, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I kissed her hair and pulled her closer. "See you in the morning." Kara. My spitfire. THE END