Chapter Thirty-Two

Honey

My fingers pinch at my satin gloves, ready to pull them off. I frown every time I look in the mirror. A great sense of unease bubbles in my stomach. This isn't right. I should have fought my mother harder and pushed for the silky A-Line dress that fit me like a dream. Instead, I'm wearing a dress that Oscar De La Renta created after a heavy night of red wine. I look like a whipped cream monstrosity, and the idea of walking out of this room makes me want to gag. Coming here was a mistake, but my mother wouldn't have let my absence slide. This is her biggest event on the social calendar.

"You look beautiful, Hunniford." My father offers me a stilted smile and kisses me lightly on the cheek. It's impersonal and formal, like him.

"Thank you, Father." He adjusts his cuffs, admiring himself in the mirror, not giving me a second glance.

I could still get out of this. My father might be too interested in his own appearance to notice me sneak out.

Lifting the thick fabric, I step off the pedestal and say, "I'm going to go to the bathroom." It's my one shot at getting out of here.

"Hunniford." My mother stops me just as I reach the door. "Let me have a look." I sigh, rolling my eyes, then turn with a sarcastic smile. We haven't spoken in a week; she's been avoiding me ever since I yelled at her in the hallway, and the quiet has been nice. Hard to disappoint someone who doesn't talk to you.

She shuffles over, assessing me like I'm a racehorse about to leave its stall. Her face shows appreciation until she gets to my neck. "I know you've got a weird connection to that cheap necklace, but can you please wear your grandmother's pearls, just for tonight? There are a lot of important people to impress out there, and I don't want your carnival jewelry to be the main reference point of who you are."

There she is. It's been so long that I almost missed her sarcastic barbs.

My eyes connect with my father's in the mirror, and he raises a brow which is his way of telling me to listen to my mother because it's important to her. Without another word, I take off the necklace Zach gave me and reach for the black velvet box.

My mother watches me self-righteously. Of course she's happy. She thinks I'm doing what she wants, but I'll change it back when she leaves.

Satisfied, she checks her watch. "You've got ten minutes before you go out there."

"Good luck, Hunniford," my father says, following my mother out of the room. "Make me proud."

Had I known this whole time all I had to do to make my father proud was wear an ugly dress while walking down a few steps at the clubhouse, I would have done it years ago. Maybe it would have gotten them off my back.

As I look at myself in the mirror one last time, I adjust the tendrils falling on either side of my face and wipe away a tiny smudge of lipstick. Having also not spoken to Zach since he kissed me in the hallway and told me to wait for him, I don't know what to expect when I leave this room. For all I know, there will be no one to meet me at the bottom of the stairs, but I have hope.

One of the coordinators pops her head into the room. "It's time to go, Miss Sanderson."

"Okay, thank you."

Before leaving, I grab Zach's necklace, stuffing it in the only place I know I won't lose it: my bra. I'll put it on when I get the chance.

Feeling out of place as I stand in line with the other debutants, I get the urge to flee again. I don't want to do this, but with the coordinators at the end of the hall, the only way out is down. I have no choice but to go through with it.

When the girl in front of me starts to walk down the steps, I take a deep breath. This is it.

My hand teeters on the edge of the railing, and I take the stairs one step at a time. When I reach the break in stairs, I walk to the center and face the crowd. Hundreds of people are watching, but I'm only looking for one set of eyes. My heart rate accelerates, and prickles of sweat bead across my forehead from the bright lights. I hate being pranced around like this by my mother, and as I lose hope of finding those green eyes, I realize I will also be embarrassed if Zach's not down there waiting for me.

I drop my gaze to the bottom of the stairs, startled by Jamie's presence below. Disappointment fills my veins. That tiny morsel of hope I once had is snuffed out because Zach isn't here. Maybe thinking he was coming was naive, but his words and how he looked at me made me feel special. Something I'm clearly not.

Jamie watches me with an overeager smile. He, like my parents, thinks they've won. The sad reality is, they might be right. It doesn't matter how much I want to hide from the life laid out for me; I can't.

Every step feels heavier than the last, and I have to concentrate on making sure I don't fall on my pointed heels, which thankfully means I'm not looking at the boy waiting for me at the bottom.

So this is it. Maybe I should accept it. I'll be comfortable forever and never have to worry about money. Jamie will have mistresses like I'm sure my dad has, and I'll be as bitter as my mother. Maybe that's my circle of life. Plenty of people have it much worse, so maybe I should accept they've won.

A little piece of my heart chips when I think about Zach because all he'll be is a memory my mind will flit back to whenever I'm lonely. The boy who got away. The boy who was never mine in the first place.

Jamie's smile widens the closer I get, seemingly unable to notice that I'm slowing. At least I'll be away from him for four years while I'm at St. Michael's and he's at Southern Collegiate.

Jamie holds his hand out to me, bowing in my presence. I reluctantly reach out to him.

Here goes nothing.

"Wait!"

That voice.

I must be dreaming or delirious. This can't be happening. Jamie's hand tries to capture mine, but I wiggle my fingers away.

"Honey."

There's no mistaking it now. I swallow, building the courage to look up, and when I do, I melt.

Green eyes, a charming smile, and looking confident.

He's here.

"Zach," I barely whisper, watching as he strides over with certainty. Spectators gasp, and I know my mother is watching, but I don't care. Zach is here… for me.

Skipping off the bottom step, I push past Jamie, hold the skirt of my dress, and run to Zach.

I feel at home when his hands curl around my waist and I wrap my arm around his.

"That's what you call waiting for me, huh?" he asks with a hint of humor in his voice. He gives me a subtle peck on the cheek as I back away.

"I thought you weren't coming."

"So you thought you'd let Horseface get you back?" My mouth drops, the edges curling into a smile because I don't know how to explain what happened. Not waiting for my answer, Zach waffles his hand in mine and says, "I'd never let you down, Honeycomb." His voice is like an elixir to my soul, and I eagerly drink it up. "We had a deal, remember?"

Of course, it's all about the deal. Nothing deeper is going on between us in his mind. He's being the good guy, holding up his end of the bargain. He's not thinking about me endlessly like I do him.

"Now, Mike told me I'm supposed to kiss your right hand and then lead you into the other hall where there will be a lot of dancing."

I bite my lip, trying to hold back the sadness in my eyes. I should be anything but upset. Zach's here, serving the biggest FU to my parents and Jamie I could wish for, but it's not how I envisaged it. We haven't spoken since he told me to wait for him, but was that just to finish the bet?

He lifts my hand, kicking the tails of his suit back, and softly kisses the skin there. Even through the fabric, I feel the stinging electricity that only Zach can muster.

I don't bother looking around the room at the disapproving faces and shocked glares. Jamie's parents will probably have harsh words for mine, and any ideas over a dynasty will be ruined. Funnily enough, I don't care about the repercussions because, for the first time, I feel confident and whole in the presence of high society.

"Let's go." He offers his elbow, then I wrap my hand around it and let him lead me into the room next door, leaving Jamie standing there with no one to escort.

"Please welcome Hunniford Genevieve Sanderson and Jamison Franklin Nicks."

The room hushes into silence as we enter. Zach leans closer so our shoulders brush. "Geez. It's like they haven't seen a guy with less than a hundred bucks in his bank account before." He chuckles awkwardly.

It's obvious from how he acts around school that places like this don't make him comfortable, and he feels less than confident when he isn't in his uniform. I squeeze his hand, silently thanking him for coming here.

"No. They just can't believe I went against the great Hayley Sanderson. She's pretty much funding this ball, and I've just burned a hole through her perfect tapestry."

He smirks. "If you want, I can escort you back out there so you and Jamie can make your grand entrance."

"Never," I say with a small smile, leading him onto the dance floor. Turning to him, I play with the lapels of his tux. "Is this Mike's?" He nods. "So, when Mike let you borrow this, did he teach you any moves while he was at it?"

"He tried. Or, at least, I should say Olivia tried, but Mike stopped it when he saw us dancing together. He claimed I was getting a little too handsy."

"Were you?" My heart feels like it's beating out of my chest.

"Of course not. You know Mike, he's overprotective as shit, and I'm not about to become his punching bag. Jamie hasn't walked straight since he punched him in the stomach." Taking one of my hands, Zach lifts it in the air and snakes his other around my waist, bringing me to a comfortable distance.

People are still staring, but it all fades into nothing. Zach is all I focus on.

"When did Mike do that?" I ask while swaying to the music, gently moving Zach to the right position.

"Before the championship game. He was defending my honor." He laughs, and I know there's more to this story which I'll find out later.

"Wow, the great Zach Evans got someone to help him out for once."

"Hey, if I want to win the girl, I've got to accept I might need a little help."

"Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Want to win the girl?" I bite my lip, watching his eyes intently. He blinks before looking at me with soft eyes.

"Haven't I made that obvious?"

"No," I answer honestly.

He bends down, kissing the skin just below my ear. "Guess I'll have to try a little harder, then."

The music stops, and Zach glances over his shoulder, looking at the retiring couples.

"Where's everyone going?"

"To the five-course dinner. I'm assuming we'll be stuck at the table with Jamie and a few other debutants."

"Come on, it won't be that bad. I'll play footsie with you under the table." I giggle and flick my gaze to the debutants. Being in there with Zach is the last thing I want to do.

I jerk his arm to stop him from following the crowd. "I've got a better idea. Let's get out of here."

"What?"

Raising my brows, I look at him with challenge. "You brought your bike, right?"

"Yes, but what about your parents?"

I shrug. "What about them? They were more than happy to arrange my life with Jamie without my consent, so now I'm leaving without theirs. Besides, I've already ruined their well-made plans. If I go back in there, I might embarrass her more."

"Are you sure?"

I drag my hand down to his, waffling them. "Never been more sure of something in my life. Come on, we need to get out before everyone's seated."

Knocking into a few debutants on the way, I drag Zach through the crowd. He silently lets me lead, and the valet tries to stop us when we get outside.

"Where's your bike?"

He tilts his head behind me. "Over there. I didn't trust the valet."

"Don't blame you."

When we get to the bike, he looks down at my dress, then back to his ride. "They aren't saving this for your wedding, are they?" He draws me closer before his hands drift down the tulle of my skirt.

I shake my head. "No. It'll be left to rot in the back of my closet now."

"Good." Still holding onto the tulle, he drops to his knees. "Sorry about this," he mumbles before pulling at the fabric, shredding it off me. I squeal as he rips layer after layer of tulle until I'm left with shredded fabric at my mid-thigh.

Zach looks fondly at his work. "There, now you can sit on the bike." He opens the top box, pulls out two helmets, and hands me one. As I pull my hair out of its chignon, I notice a small blob of yellow among the shiny black of the helmet.

"It's a bee?"

He smiles coyly. "Thought you deserved your own helmet after everything." He grabs his jacket and tries to pass off that comment as nothing, but he got me my own helmet. That means he expects me to be on the back, right? He drapes his jacket over my shoulders and takes the helmet from me. "Put it on. You'll get cold with your boobs on display like that." He gestures to the sweetheart neckline of my dress, and I can feel myself blushing as I push my arms through the holes as he puts the helmet on me.

"Sorry we had to mess up your hair." Holding back an amused smile, he asks, "Do they call that style a beehive?"

My eyes widen because that reminds me. Pulling my dress forward, I push my hand into my bra. "Whoa, Honeycomb, we're in a parking lot. I know it's been a while, but I think they might have security cameras." I pull out his gold necklace, and his smile softens. "There it is."

"Where did you think I put it?"

"I had no idea, but today was the first day that I saw you without it, and I didn't want to admit how shit that made me feel. But I shouldn't be surprised. This is your mom's fancy ball, after all. A fifty-dollar necklace would have ruined the look. That dress probably costs more than my scholarship."

"Will you help me put it back on?"

"Sure." Taking the necklace, he walks behind me, draping the gold across my neck and clasping it. "There you go."

He gets on the back of the bike, watching me expectantly. I'm hesitant at first because I've never been on a bike, let alone been on one while wearing a wedding dress. "Do you need help?"

"No. I'm good." I have no idea what I'm doing, but how hard could mounting a bike be? Throwing a leg over, I sit comfortably on the black leather, leaning forward until his hard body rests between my thighs.

Squirming, I try to adjust because the only thing coming between Zach's body and my center is a thin lace thong.

Zach takes my hands and places them firmly against his stomach. "Relax. Can you feel my body?"

If only he knew what a stupid question that was. I can feel his body everywhere, and it's having an adverse effect on my panties. "Yup," I quip, tightening my thighs around him.

He squeezes my hands. "Okay, so I'm going to assume that you've never been on the back of a bike since Jamie is the only other guy you've dated. The most important thing you need to know is that when I move, you need to move with me. You'll get an urge to counter my movement but don't. Just relax and let me do all the work."

"Where are we going?"

"Do you trust me?" he asks as his thumb runs across my palm. I scratch along the fabric of his white buttoned shirt, and his muscles contract under my touch.

"With my life."

"Good to know, Honeycomb. I know you'll love where we end up."

He revs the engine, forcing me to hold him a little tighter. "Here we go," I singsong, and close my eyes. My stomach lurches when the bike moves, and I don't open them until we're on the highway. Resting my head on his back, I close my eyes and let the calming rhythm of his breathing relax me.

As the cool air skates across my body, I can't help but feel a strong sense of freedom. Flying down the highway in a tattered dress, I feel unrestricted and realize that I'm happily trusting Zach with my life.

I squeeze his torso, and he takes one hand off the handlebar to squeeze my hand in reassurance.

As he pulls into Vista Point, I gasp at the beautiful view. The city lights twinkle under a deep purple and blue sky.

"I've never seen something so beautiful," I say as he pulls my helmet off. Without asking, he strokes my hair, setting it in place.

"Then you've never looked in the mirror."

I blush at the compliment and don't address it. "How did you find this place?"

Grabbing me by the waist, he pulls me into a bridal carry and drops me onto a bench overlooking the view. Sitting next to me, he loosely drapes his arm over the back of the bench. "I found this place last year when I took the wrong bus home one day and got stuck here until my mom could pick me up."

"How long were you up here?"

"Long enough to watch the sunset."

"That sounds very romantic."

Zach chuckles, shuffling closer. "Trust me, it wasn't. It was like ninety degrees that day, and I'd skipped the shower after football because I was late."

"You in need of a shower sounds hot." I look him up and down, and the grin on his face falls.

"I guess I owe you an explanation?"

"Not really. We aren't really together, and Tiff told me a lot, but if you want to explain, I won't stop you."

Zach grunts. "Firstly, you're delusional if you think we aren't together, Honeycomb." He drapes his arm over my shoulder, kissing me on the cheek. "It's you and me against this crazy school, this crazy world if you'll have me."

He raises his hand, bringing it to my chin, coaxing me to look in his direction. Saying nothing, he dips down and places his lips against mine. Once again, my whole body ignites without my consent.

When he pulls away, I inadvertently moan and scrunch my face. Opening my eyes now would be too depressing because then he'd see the heady desperation in my eyes.

"Tiff's my cousin." It's a simple statement, but it takes me a little while to comprehend since I'm still reeling from our kiss.

"I know." Finally, I open my eyes. His thumb gently caresses my cheek, warming me even through the cold, crisp air.

"Yeah, Tiff mentioned she told you our secret." He wets his lips, prompting me to do the same, tasting him. "I'm sorry I waited so long that she told you instead of me. I didn't know how to explain it without ruining what we have."

What do we have? I fight back the urge to ask that question, patiently waiting for Zach to finish.

"I didn't say anything initially because I thought you wouldn't help me with the bet, and I needed the money. It was all I focused on to start with. But then things started to get complicated." He raises his hand, waving it between the two of us.

"In what way?"

He looks over at me with a side smile. "In the way that I tasted your pussy and realized I would kill anyone else who wanted to do the same."

My eyebrows raise in surprise, but my stomach flips in excitement. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

"Because I didn't want to get rejected by you… My dream girl." The air crackles with intensity. We've both been fighting back our feelings for too long.

I go to kiss him, but he stops me. "As much as I want to kiss you senseless under these stars, there's more I need to tell you."

He pulls away from me, resting his elbows on his knees, and clasps his hands. "If I found that a problem, I have no idea how the hell I'm supposed to explain the next part to you, but you deserve to know everything."

I stay quiet, letting him think through his words. His deep-green eyes turn black, hiding darkness I've never seen before. I want him to pour all that darkness into me and so I can feel it slithering into my soul and take the burden away. "Tiff got knocked up a little over a year ago. She was out at some party and met a guy. One thing led to another, and she found out three months later that she was expecting."

Zach's fists tighten, and jaw clenches. "Her dad, my mom's brother, wanted her to get an abortion or give the baby up for adoption because she couldn't remember the guy's name, and they couldn't afford another mouth to feed. Neither of those were a viable option for Tiff."

"Is this the uncle you were building your bike with?"

He nods. "Yeah, we were close. He treated me like his own son because my dad was always working, but all of that changed when Tiff came to our house crying one night. She didn't want to give Ella up, and my parents didn't want her to either. Long story short, Tiff ended up living with us, and even though we were already stretched, we knew we had to give Ella the best chance at life possible."

"So that's why your bike was sitting on your drive. You don't speak anymore?"

"Nope." He pops the P, regret filling his voice. "Haven't since the day Tiff dropped her bags off in our living room. He doesn't even know Ella's a girl, let alone when she was born." He shakes his head. "Ridiculous because the minute I met Ella, the only thing I wanted to do was protect her from everyone and everything that didn't want her. I want her."

"What about the father?"

He drops his head and runs his hand through his hair. "That's where this gets complicated, and I don't know if you're going to believe me."

"What have you got to lie about now?"

"Tiff's been elusive about the father since her pregnancy. Whenever we tried to broach the subject, she'd change it or tell us it was some rich prick she didn't want to remember because it was so bad."

"Was she raped?" It comes out before I can think about what I've said.

"No. No. She told me it was all consensual, but he'd given her a fake name and number."

"Oh no."

He nods. "Yeah, that's why she was so cagey about the whole thing. She was embarrassed to admit the hookup and that she didn't have a way to contact him."

"So that's why you let people believe you're the dad and she's your girlfriend?"

"I didn't know about that little rumor until you told me, and Jamie was already on my shitlist." His sorrow-filled eyes connect with mine. "Look, there's something I've got to tell you. No doubt you'll think I'm making it up. I didn't believe it either, but I took action and got it verified. We haven't figured out what to do with the information yet, but we'll get there."

"Just tell me already."

"It's Jamie."

"What's Jamie?"

"He's Ella's father."

I blink a couple of times, letting that sink in.

"Jamie? My Jamie?"

"As much as I hate hearing you call him that. Yes. Jamie Nicks is the father of the best thing that ever happened to my family."

"But it makes no sense." I rack my brain, trying to figure it out. Furrowing my brows, I drop my gaze to the floor and take a deep breath. "That means they hooked up over a year ago."

He nods. "You'd be right. It was the summer before junior year. Apparently, Jamie and a few of my teammates decided to gatecrash one of her high school parties."

"And she didn't recognize him? Surely she would have seen pictures of him from your games?"

"There aren't any. Jamie's always riding the bench. He isn't exactly the star of the show, no matter how much his ego would believe it. Besides, he didn't give her his real name, so any mention of him before would have gone unnoticed. Not that I talked about that idiot at all."

"Is she sure?"

"When she saw him at the championship game, she was so sure that she led me to do something very stupid and illegal, but it got me the information I needed."

"You didn't punch Jamie again, did you?"

He cringes. "No. I can't do that without getting expelled. Besides, I didn't need to. I tested his DNA."

"How?" I ask with a gasp.

"I stole his water bottle and a comb in practice one day, and it's a ninety-nine percent match with Ella."

"So he's her father?"

"Believe me, I was hoping and praying she was wrong. How could something that pure and beautiful be part of Jamie?" His nose crinkles. "Thank God she's spent no time with him."

I swallow; the implication of this knowledge batters through me like a car on its last breath. "Zach, if this is true—"

"It's true."

"This is huge. Like Jamie's family will want Ella, they'll make Tiff's life hell if it ever comes out that they have an illegitimate grandchild."

"I know. That's why I'll let Jamie continue to believe his dumb ass lies about me. Jamie's name isn't on Ella's birth certificate, and he's going to college in a few months. I've found a lawyer, and once I win this bet, I'll use the money to hire her and make sure that idiot can't get anywhere near Ella."

"Was that your plan for the money all along? To pay for lawyers?"

"No. I never thought we'd find out who the father was. Now that we know, it's a different issue."

I take his hand in mine, waffling our fingers together. "Well, if it's money you need. Let's win it. You can have my share."

He looks up at me, surprised. "Are you sure?"

"Zach, you've done so much for me over the last few months. Money was never the endgame for me, revenge was, and I got that a long time ago with your help. The only way I can repay you is to show you exactly how much you mean to me, and I want to help you and Ella." I scoot closer, draping one of my thighs over his legs, and kiss him with a smile on my face. He kisses me back, stroking my thigh.

"Let's think about it," he says, pressing his fingers into my skin. I nod, knowing that I've thought about it enough. He's getting my share no matter what.

"One thing before I forget," he says. He moves me off his legs to stand.

I tilt my head, watching him in confusion, and then he gets down on one knee. I take in a sharp breath, surprised and wondering what the hell he will do. "Please don't tell me you're going to propose. I don't want to be that girl who's had two fiancées at eighteen." I try to make it sound like a joke, but the hesitance in my voice gives away my nervousness.

He doesn't respond, just smiles as he pulls out a box from his back pocket. "I was planning on giving this to you at the end of the ball, but since we didn't get that far, I guess this will have to do."

He hands me the box, and I just stare at it. It's a small velvet box, and I'm paralyzed in thought. We're both too young. Yes, we're both going to St. Michael's, but that doesn't mean I'm ready to move from one ridiculous commitment to another. "Will you stop overthinking and just open it already." He laughs, raising his eyebrows encouragingly.

I swallow and open the box. A set of gold honeycomb earrings twinkle at me, matching my necklace.

"I love them."

"See, no ring, but I do have a proposal."

I don't have time to admire the earrings, and I look up at him with confusion. "Hunniford Genevieve Sanderson, will you go to prom with me?"

I huff out a small laugh, pushing him on the shoulder lightly. "What are you talking about? We've already agreed that we're going together."

He shakes his head, takes my hand in his, and places it on his chest, just above his heart. "No, we didn't. We agreed to go for a bet and fake date until then. I'm asking you now if you'll go to prom with me as my girlfriend?" He squeezes the hand he's holding, watching me with deep, dark eyes.

My mouth splits into an uncontrollable smile. "Seriously?"

He grins. "Yes. Will you please let me take you on dates that will consist of watching movies in the back of a truck and bowling? It won't be as fancy as you're used to, but I promise I'll make it worth it. I just want to keep making you smile like that."

I won't let him finish his sentence. I drop the earrings onto the bench and cup his face, kissing him boldly.

"Shall I take that as a yes?" He asks against my mouth, teasing me with a little lick across my lips.

"Always."