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10.LITTLE CRACKS IN THE WALL
Last Updated:
2025-08-09 03:33:37
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Beg For It 15.FRACTURES AND FOUNDATIONS
ARDEN’S POVThe following evening is heavier than I expect.Rhett tells me his family is coming for dinner, the kind of announcement that feels less like an invitation and more like a storm warning. His voice is flat when he says it, his eyes avoiding mine like he’s bracing for impact.And maybe he’s right to. Because the moment I step into that room—into the orbit of the entire Langston family—I feel the weight of expectation settle on me like a cloak I never asked to wear.There are so many of them.His mother, elegant but weary, with eyes that look like Rhett’s but softer, touched with years of worry. His father, tall and commanding, carrying silence the way Rhett carries fire. And then, Caleb—already leaning back in his chair, arms folded, grinning at me like he’s been waiting all day for this.“Arden,” his mother says, stepping forward first, her hands warm as they envelop mine. “We’ve heard so much about you.”I glance at Rhett, startled, but his face doesn’t give anything away.
Beg For It 14.SHADOWS AND REFLECTIONS
ARDEN’S POVI don’t sleep much after the kiss.Every time I close my eyes, I feel it again—his mouth on mine, his hand tangled in my hair, the way my heart raced like it was about to break out of my chest. And worse than the kiss itself is what came after. The silence. Rhett pulled back, brushed his thumb across my cheek like he wasn’t sure if he should even be touching me, and then walked away without a word.Now the morning feels too bright, too loud, and I’m carrying that kiss around like a secret I can’t put down.But there’s no time to dwell. My dad shows up before I even finish breakfast. He doesn’t knock, just lets himself in like he always has, and the sound of his boots across the floor makes my stomach tighten.“Arden.” His voice is sharp, clipped, already disappointed before we’ve even exchanged a proper word.“Morning,” I say, keeping my tone as even as possible.He doesn’t sit. Doesn’t smile. He just looks at me the way he always does—like I’m not living up to something I
Beg For It 13. THE EDGE OF SURRENDER
ARDEN'S POVThe air between us has been different all day- charged, taut, like a wire stretched too tight. Rhett has been everywhere I turn. Not in an obvious way, but in that infuriating , caculated manner of his where I can't decide if he's trying to avoid me or corner me. Either way, I', aware of him in every room, every glanced, ebvery subtle shift of his weight.It's maddening.I've been replaying our last conversation- those clipped words, the way his jaw tightened, how his eyes held me like he was deciding whether to let me in or shut me out completely. And now, hours later, he's leaning casually against the kitchen counter, slipping coffee like he hasn't been haunting my thoughts since sunrise.I stop in the doorway, pretending to scroll through my phone, just so I have a second to gather myself. The problem is, I can feel him watchingme without even looking up. It's like my skin knows when he's near."You planning to stand there all day," he drawls, "or are you going to come
Beg For It 12.QUIET FLAMES
The city lights spilled through the sheer curtains of my apartment, painting flickers of gold across the hardwood floor. Outside, the world buzzed in a low hum — cars, distant laughter, the usual city soundtrack that somehow felt muffled in here, like I was trapped in a bubble made of glass and anticipation.I sat curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over my legs, the soft rustle of fabric the only sound besides the quiet ticking of the clock on the wall. My phone rested face down beside me, a silent monument to the conversation I hadn’t yet summoned the courage to send.Rhett.His name alone could twist my stomach in knots and simultaneously calm the storm inside me. But right now, the tension between us wasn’t like the explosive heat I’d grown used to — it was something quieter, more complicated. A simmering flame just beneath the surface, dangerous only if I let it burn out of control.The night before replayed in my mind like a slow-motion scene in a film, every look, every wo
Beg For It 11.THE WORLD OUTSIDE
ARDENThe afternoon air had that late autumn bite to it, crisp and dry, the kind that carries the smell of wood smoke from blocks away. I stood in front of my easel by the window, brush in hand, trying to keep my focus on the piece in fron of me. But my thoughts kept drifting to yesterday-Rhett's voice in my truck, the way his eyes softened when looked at me, like he was seeing me and not just the idea of me.It was strange, having him in my apartment again. Stranger still that it didn't feel like a mistake.I was halfway through shading the curve of the figure's shoulder when my phone buzzed on the counter. I wiped my paint-strained hands on my sweater before checking it.Rhett: You free tonight?A flicker of anticipation lit low in my stomach. Me: Maybe.Rhett: Not good enough. Dinner with me? I promise not to burn anything this time. Me: Bold of you to assume I'd let you cook.Rhett: Fine. I'll order in. Pick you up at 6.I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged at my mouth. He was m
Beg For It 10.LITTLE CRACKS IN THE WALL
ARDENThe next morning, the rain hadn't stopped. It fell in steady sheets outside my apartment windows, streaking the glass like the sky itself had decided to wash everything clean. I sat at myo kitchen table, nursing my coffee, trying to ignore the restless hum in my chest.It had been three days since Rhett brought my sketchbook over. Three days of texts that didn't feel like obligation..Three days of texts that didn't feel like obligation.Three days of him showing u- not with grand gesture, but with something quieter, something steadier.And maybe that was what unsettled me the most.At 10:17 a.m., my phone buzzed. His name lit up my screen.Rhett: Come downstairs.I stared at it for a full minute before typing back.Me: Why?Rhett: You'll seeIn grabbed my sweater and headed down, the smell of rain thick in the air as soon as I stepped outside. Rhett truck was parked at the curb, and he leaned against the side of it, hair damp from the drizzle."Youdidn’t tell me you were bringin
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