Chapter 3: The Price

I didn’t reply to the message.

I spent the entire day pretending I hadn’t seen it, even though the words sat on my screen like a brand.

Dinner. Tonight. My place. We still have things to discuss.

Don’t make me come find you, Bennett.

Every time my phone buzzed I flinched. Every time someone called my name I expected it to be him. By late afternoon my nerves were shredded. I stayed behind the camera as much as possible, using the lens as a shield, photographing everything except the one person I couldn’t stop thinking about.

It didn’t help.

I still felt the memory of his thigh between my legs. I still heard the low way he had said years. I still tasted the panic and the unwanted heat that had flooded me when he pinned me to the door.

When the sun started dropping, I packed my gear slower than usual, hoping the parking lot would be empty by the time I left. It wasn’t.

Rex was leaning against the side of his black car, arms crossed, waiting.

He didn’t smile when he saw me. He just watched me walk toward him like he had known all along that I would eventually come.

“I said dinner,” he said once I was close enough. “Not a stare-off across the lot.”

“I’m not going to your place.”

“Yes you are.”

“No.”

Rex pushed off the car and stepped into my space. Not touching, but close enough that I had to tip my chin up. The evening air carried the faint scent of his cologne and the leftover heat of the track.

“You can get in the car,” he said quietly, “or I can text Ethan right now and ask him if he knows his little sister has been collecting my shit like trophies. Your choice.”

My stomach turned. “You said you wouldn’t tell him.”

“I said I wasn’t telling him yet. That can change.”

I hated him in that moment. I hated the calm certainty in his voice and the way my body still reacted to his nearness. Most of all I hated that he was right. I didn’t have a real choice.

I got in the car.

The drive was silent. Rex didn’t try to fill it. He drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his thigh, completely at ease. I kept my eyes on the road and my hands locked together in my lap so he wouldn’t see them shake.

His house was exactly what I expected—modern, expensive, and too big for one person. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the city lights. The kitchen was all dark stone and steel. It smelled faintly like him.

Rex dropped his keys on the counter and opened the fridge.

“Sit,” he said.

I stayed standing. “Say what you want to say so I can leave.”

He pulled out a bottle of wine, poured two glasses, and slid one across the island toward me. Then he leaned his hip against the counter and studied me over the rim of his own glass.

“You look like you’re waiting for the execution.”

“Feels like one.”

“Relax. I’m not going to touch you unless you ask.” His mouth curved slightly. “Although after last night, I’m starting to think you might.”

Heat crawled up my neck. “What do you want, Rex?”

He set the glass down and crossed his arms.

“I want the truth. All of it. Not the half-answers you gave me in that closet.”

“I already told you—”

“You told me you’ve been attracted to me for years and that you hate yourself for it. That’s the surface.” His eyes stayed on mine. “I want the rest. How long, exactly. What you’ve taken. What you do with it when you’re alone.”

My face burned. “You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re avoiding the question.”

I looked away, jaw tight. The silence stretched. Rex didn’t fill it. He just waited, patient and relentless, until the weight of his stare became too much.

“Fine,” I said, voice low. “It started when I was nineteen. You left a towel in Ethan’s car after a race. I… kept it. I told myself I would throw it away. I never did.”

Rex’s expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes sharpened.

“And after that?”

“A shirt once. Gloves. Another towel.” I forced the words out. “I don’t keep them forever. I just… need them for a while.”

“Need them for what?”

I glared at him. “You already know.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

The humiliation was sharp and hot. I could feel it in my throat, in my chest, between my legs. He was going to make me say the words out loud in his kitchen while he watched.

“I use them,” I said finally, almost whispering. “When I can’t sleep. When I can’t stop thinking about you. I press them against my face and I touch myself until I come. Are you happy now?”

Rex was completely still.

For a long moment the only sound was the quiet hum of the refrigerator. Then he exhaled slowly, like he had been holding his breath.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath.

I crossed my arms tightly over my chest, trying to hold myself together. “There. You have your truth. Now tell me the price so I can go.”

Rex pushed off the counter and walked around the island until he was standing in front of me. Close. Too close. I backed up until my hips hit the edge of the counter. He followed, stopping only when there were mere inches between us.

“The price is simple,” he said. “You stop lying. To me. To yourself. To everyone who thinks you hate me.”

“That’s not a price. That’s control.”

“Call it whatever you want.” His voice stayed quiet. “From now on, when we’re alone, you don’t get to hide behind the same insults you use in public. You don’t get to pretend this—” he gestured between us “—doesn’t exist.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then Ethan finds out everything. Including how many of my things have been under your pillow.”

My heart hammered. “You’re a bastard.”

“I’ve been called worse.” He reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from my face. The touch was light, almost gentle, and it made my skin burn. “But I’m the bastard who knows your secret. And I’m not done with it yet.”

I swallowed hard. “Is that all?”

“For tonight.” His thumb traced the line of my jaw once, then dropped. “There’s more. I’ll tell you when I’m ready.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Neither is keeping a man’s sweat-soaked towel under your pillow while telling the world you despise him.” He stepped back at last, giving me space to breathe. “Dinner’s still an option if you want it. Or you can leave. Door’s right there.”

I should have left.

I should have walked straight out of his house and never looked back.

Instead I stayed frozen in place, pulse racing, the ghost of his touch still on my skin, while the weight of what I had just admitted settled over both of us like a live wire.

Rex watched me with that same dark fascination from the night before.

“Decide, Aria,” he said softly. “Stay or go.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I pulled it out without thinking.

A message from Ethan.

You coming over for dinner tonight? Mom’s cooking. Rex said he might stop by later.

I looked up at Rex.

He was already reading the screen over my shoulder, that slow, dangerous smile returning to his mouth.

“Looks like the decision just got more interesting,” he murmured.