Chapter 8

The early morning air was crisp, touched with the scent of freshly cut grass. Sunlight spilled across the backyard, warming the stone path beneath my feet as I settled into one of the cushioned chairs by the backyard garden table. 

I had a book in my lap, something Mary had recommended, though the words kept blurring as my mind drifted to the night before. The memory of Mr. Scott and me together made my cheeks warm, but I forced myself to focus on the page. Reading felt safer than untangling what happened. 

I’d only just gotten to the start of a new chapter when the sound of footsteps crunched against the gravel. I looked up, shielding my eyes from the sun, and before I could react, a familiar hand smacked my book right out of my hands. 

“Ace!” I yelped, half-annoyed, half-startled. The book landed on the grass with a soft thud. 

He grinned down at me, his messy hair catching the sunlight, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “What are you doing out here hiding with a book? You should be paying attention to me.” 

I reached down to grab my book, but he stepped closer, leaning over me before I could. His face lowered until it was just a breath away from mine. His hand caught the arm of my chair, boxing me in. 

And then, he tilted his head, clearly aiming for a kiss. 

“No, Ace!” I pressed my palm to his chest, stopping him just short. My heart hammered, not from excitement but from panic. “We’re outside. Someone could see us.” 

He chuckled, unbothered. “So what?” 

I frowned, darting a glance toward the windows of the house. “What do you mean, so what? We can’t... not here.” 

“My dad’s not even home,” Ace said casually, his grin widening as though that solved everything. “And if one of the staff happens to walk by, they wouldn’t dare say a word. Trust me. He’d never believe them over me anyway.” 

I shook my head, still holding him back with my hand against his chest. “That doesn’t make it safe. I don’t want to take that risk.” 

He sighed dramatically, like I was being difficult on purpose. “You’re too cautious.” 

“Maybe,” I admitted, though my voice trembled. “But I’d rather be cautious than caught.” 

He tilted his head, eyes dancing with defiance. “You really think I care about being caught?” 

“That’s the problem,” I whispered. 

Ace leaned in again, his hand brushing against my waist this time, trying to coax me closer. His grin was playful, teasing, but there was a stubborn heat in his gaze. 

“Come on,” he murmured, lowering his voice as though it was just between us. “Just one kiss.” 

I twisted slightly, resisting, my breath coming quicker. “Ace, stop. Please.” 

For a long moment, he held my gaze, daring me to give in. And God, a part of me wanted to. But fear was louder. The risk, the consequences, they wrapped around me tighter than his arms could. 

Finally, with a frustrated groan, he pulled back, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Fine, you win.” 

I was relieved. I bent down, picking up my book from the grass, brushing the dirt from its cover. My hands shook a little, but I tried to hide it as I sat back down. Opening it again gave me something to do, even though I wasn’t reading a word. 

Ace plopped beside me, sprawled in a careless way, one leg kicked out, his arms draped across the back of my chair. 

“Is this how you’ll be spending the summer break? You’re impossible,” I muttered, my eyes fixed stubbornly on the page. 

“You forget I’ll be starting college right after summer break.” 

“Oh, yeah,” I nodded. “That’s right. You’ve graduated from high school. I’ve just got probably four to five months in my new grade before I catch up with you. That’s why I said you’re impossible.” 

“And you’re stubborn,” he shot back, though his grin softened. “But that’s why I like you.” 

I ignored the flutter in my chest and forced my eyes to stay on the book. After a moment of silence, he leaned closer, his voice curious. 

“Where’d you go last night?” 

I froze at the question. “Last night?” I echoed, my tone too sharp. 

“Yeah!” He nudged my arm with his elbow, smirking. “You disappeared before dinner. I went looking, but Mary said you went out to meet with my dad.” 

I swallowed, heat crawling up my neck. “We... we went out.” 

“Out where?” 

“The Crescent Restaurant,” I said quickly before I could think of a lie. 

Ace’s brows shot up, amusement flickering across his face. “So, he took you to his favorite place on your first night out? Interesting.” 

I looked down at the book again, trying to hide the way my stomach twisted. “It was just dinner.” 

“Just dinner?” He leaned back, chuckling softly. “Trust me, Sabrina, my dad doesn’t do just dinner. If he took you there, he was trying to impress you.” 

I bit my lip, my mind flickering back to candlelight, to his hand over mine. “It wasn’t like that,” I said too quickly. 

Ace tilted his head, looking at me. His grin softened into something sly. “Are you sure?” 

I turned the page of my book, even though I hadn't read the last one. “Positive.” 

But even I didn’t sound convinced. 

“You know...” he started in a lower voice. “I saw something last night.” 

My hands stilled on the book. “Saw... what?” 

He leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees, his eyes locked onto mine. “I saw my father carrying you into the house. Into your room.” 

“You... you saw that?” I whispered. 

He nodded slowly, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Yes. I went into the kitchen for some snacks, and I stepped out just as he was heading upstairs with you in his arms.” 

I blinked, my mind racing and heart pounding. “I don’t remember everything,” I admitted, closing the book in my lap. My voice was softer than I intended. “I had some wine last night. Maybe it got to me. I was tipsy. That’s probably why he carried me.” 

Ace tilted his head, studying me with intensity. “So, you don’t remember?” 

“Not all of it,” I confessed. “I only remember... pieces. He helped me to bed.” 

His jaw tightened, his hands clasping together as though he was holding something back. “Did he touch you?” 

I wasn’t ready for that question. My lips parted, but no words came out at first. 

“What?”