Chapter 9: Too Deep

KELVIN’S POV

Los Angeles alive in that quiet, distant way it gets at night. The city moves around us. Inside the car was silence. I keep my eyes on the road, hands steady on the wheel, posture controlled like always.

She sits beside me, close enough that I’m aware of her without looking, every small movement, every shift in her breathing, every second stretching longer than it should.

Neither of us speaks at first, we don’t need to. Everything is already there. The dinner. Austin. The way his hand stayed on her like a claim.

My jaw tightens slightly. I shouldn’t care but I do. “Why are you still with him?” The question comes out before I can stop it.

But there’s something under it. Her head turns slightly toward me. “Why do you care?” Her voice is steady, but not soft, not defensive either.

I let out a slow breath, my grip tightening briefly on the steering wheel before I ease it again. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Silence sits there between us. Her breath changes. “You have to.” Her voice comes quieter now, but firmer, like she’s trying to make it real just by saying it.

“I’ve tried.” That one slips out lower, rougher than I intended. I finally glance at her. She’s already looking at me too close. The car slows at a red light. The world outside keeps moving. Inside, nothing does.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” she says, her voice tighter now.

“Why?”

“Because it doesn’t change anything.”

“It does for me.” Her head shakes slightly. “No, it doesn’t,” she says, her tone sharper now. “It makes it worse.” I lean back slightly, my gaze returning to the road, but the space between us doesn’t change.

“You’re not with him,” I say quietly.

“I am.”

“You’re not.” My voice stays calm, but there’s certainty in it. “I saw you tonight.”

She doesn’t respond immediately. Her hands rest in her lap, fingers tightening slightly before easing again. “That doesn’t mean anything,” she says after a second.

“It means everything.” Silence again. The light turns green and the car moves. But the tension doesn’t. “You don’t get to decide what it means,” she says, her voice steadier now.

“No,” I agree. “But I can see it.” She exhales slowly, turning her head toward the window, like she needs distance even though there isn’t any. “You shouldn’t be doing this,” she says. “Neither should you.” Her head turns back to me quickly. “I’m not doing anything.”

“That’s the issue.” The words land harder than I expect. Her expression shifts slightly, something flickering there before she pushes it down. “You don’t know anything about my situation,” she says.

“I know enough.”

“No, you don’t.” Her voice sharpens. “My dad needs this deal,” she continues, quieter now but more intense. “Do you understand that?” I do, more than she thinks. “I told you,” I say, my tone steady. “The investment isn’t leverage.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?”

She hesitates for a second. Then, “This can’t happen.” I pull the car to a slower lane, the city stretching ahead, lights blurring slightly through the windshield. “Why?”

“You know why.”

“I want to hear you say it.” Her breath catches slightly. “This is wrong,” she says. “You’re…….you’re his father.” The word lands heavier than anything else tonight. “And?”

“And it’s not something I can just ignore,” she says, her voice tightening. “I’m not that kind of person.”

“Neither am I.” But here we are. The silence shifts again. I slow the car again, pulling to the side of the road without really thinking about it.

The engine stays running. I turn toward her fully now. She’s already looking at me. Her breath is uneven. So is mine. “You’re not over it,” I say quietly. Her lips part slightly. She doesn’t answer.

That’s enough. I reach for her before I think about it. My hand lifts, brushing her jaw lightly, slow enough to give her time to pull away. She doesn’t. Not immediately and that’s all it takes.

I close the distance. The kiss isn’t slow. It isn’t careful. It’s everything we’ve been holding back since the moment we saw each other again, it breaking all at once. Her hands come up, gripping my shirt for a second like she forgot she shouldn’t be doing this. Like she doesn’t care and for that moment, neither do I.

Then she pulls back fast. Her breath uneven, her eyes wide, something like panic flashing across her face. “No.” The word comes out sharp. “This can’t happen.” Her voice shakes slightly now. “My dad needs your investment.”

“Fuck the investment.” The words come out low, honest. I let out a quiet breath, my forehead almost resting against hers before I pull back just enough to look at her properly.

Her head shakes quickly. “I can’t,” she says, firmer now, like she’s forcing herself back into control. “I won’t.”

Silence falls again. She reaches for the door handle and opens the door . I don’t stop her, I should but I don’t. City noise rushes in for a second. She steps out, doesn’t look back immediately. Then she does for a second like she almost says something.

But she doesn’t. She closes the door and walks away. I stay there, hands still on the wheel. Watching her disappear into the distance until she’s completely gone.

The car feels too quiet now. I lean back slightly, exhaling slowly, my jaw tightening as everything settles in at once.

This is fucking wrong. My hand tightens slightly against the wheel, knowing I’m already too deep to walk away.