Chapter 3

On my seventh day in Snowcall, one of my friends, Lucas Freeman, called me out of the blue.

"Miranda, when are you coming back?"

"I'm not planning to anytime soon," I replied.

"Norton's birthday is next week. You're not going to come celebrate?"

"I'll pass, but I'll send something."

The conversation went quiet, and I could hear Lucas awkwardly passing the phone to someone else. "Maybe you should try talking to Miranda. She usually listens to you," he said.

Caesar's cold voice came through the speaker. "I don't give a damn whether she comes back or not. Honestly, it'd be better if she stayed away permanently."

I heard our mutual friends trying to intervene. "Come on, Miranda's obviously really hurt this time. She took off her ring and everything.

"You've been pretty brutal with this whole new girlfriend thing. You really humiliated her."

The sound of glass shattering cut through their voices as Caesar threw his drink. "We're done, okay? What the hell else do you people want from me? Nobody contact her! Let's see how long she wants to drag this out!"

While everyone scrambled to defend me, Caesar was apparently having a complete meltdown and blocked my number right there in front of them all.

"She better fucking not come crawling back here in tears! I'm never taking her back like I used to!"

I heard a door slam as he stormed out. The whole thing had been on speaker, so I'd caught everything.

Having Elvis around for comparison was really putting things in perspective. Caesar sounded like a tantruming teenager.

"I'll send Norton's birthday present. And please don't call me when Caesar's around anymore," I said.

They were still trying to persuade me to make peace with him when I ended the call.

"Sweetie, what do you want for dinner? I'll come pick you up."

Before I could even process the hurt from that phone call, Elvis's text appeared and smoothed away all my frustration.

In all these years, Caesar had never once called me anything like "sweetie". He thought pet names were cheesy.

Elvis arrived quickly, like he'd been waiting downstairs the whole time. He asked, "Have you decided what you want to eat?"

He was so gentlemanly, reaching over to buckle my seatbelt for me. I shook my head.

"How about seafood boil then?" he suggested.

I looked at Elvis in surprise. "I can't believe you even know what that is. I figured you only ate whatever your nutritionist put in front of you."

Elvis raised an eyebrow. "Well, I didn't originally. But I remember you mentioning back in our Farbourne University prep program that you really loved it."

I was amazed that Elvis remembered something I'd said so casually years ago. Caesar never would have joined me for messy food like this.

He thought eating with your hands and getting sauce everywhere was undignified. He didn't want to get his hands dirty. I'd given up foods I actually enjoyed to accommodate Caesar.

I watched as Elvis clumsily peeled shrimp while trying not to get sauce on his fingers, and it made me burst out laughing.

For a moment, he seemed completely mesmerized. Then, his expression shifted to something I couldn't quite read.

"Miranda, are you full?" he asked.

"Pretty much. Why?"

After Elvis paid the bill, he drove me back to the hotel. It wasn't until after my shower, when Elvis pulled me close on the bed, that I realized he'd gotten aroused watching me laugh at dinner.

Before I could think about it more, we were already lost in each other.

"Oh! Elvis..."

I was quickly swept into waves of pleasure, my voice soft as I called out his name. The sound didn't come out angry at all—it was more like satisfied contentment.

The slightly rough movements contrasted sharply with Elvis's usual gentlemanly demeanor, though he was still attentive to how I was responding. "Miranda, do you like this?"

I shook my head, avoiding the question. Elvis chuckled softly as he trailed a series of tender kisses across my cheeks, neck, and chest.

His touches were driving me to the edge, and tears of pure sensation leaked from the corners of my eyes. "Mmm, Elvis, yes… it feels amazing…"

Elvis's breathing grew ragged, and his muscles tensed as things intensified between us.

I was being consumed by desire, and just as my consciousness was starting to slip away, Elvis whispered something in my ear.

"Miranda, if you like this, promise you'll never leave me, okay?"