Sliding the beer cap into the magnetic bottle opener that had somehow found its way to my fridge, he cracked it open and handed it off to me. I took it, our fingers brushing, and bit my lip. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” he murmured. He scratched his shoulder, the one right above his scar, and I studied the tattoos there. There was a date and a few initials. Underneath, it had the army logo. On his forearm was a tattoo of a pair of Converse sneakers and flip-flops. The shoes seemed familiar, but I couldn’t quite figure out why. “How was work?”

“Boring.” I pressed the cool bottle against my blazing cheeks, still staring at his ink. On his opposite shoulder was a silhouette of a naked woman, resting on her hands with her chest thrust up. It even had nipples. “Spent all day listening to Daddy tell me I was doing everything wrong, and how I had to apply myself. Like usual.”

We fell silent again, staring at one another.

Well, I stared at his nipples. Or, er, her nipples. Oh, hell, I needed another sip.

He took another swig of his beer, tapping his fingers on the counter, and leaned his back up against it. The change of position had him facing me, with one leg bent slightly at the knee. It was a casual pose. One many used.

And yet, on him, it was irrefutably sexy. Unfair.

“What happened to you going to school to become a teacher?” He took another swig. “Kindergarten was the grade you wanted, right?”

I watched him, not moving, the beer bottle still pressed against my cheek. I’d never told him I wanted to be a kindergarten teacher…had I? I gave that dream up long ago when Daddy informed me I had to work at his company after marrying Derek. I racked my brain, but I hadn’t even decided that I wanted to do that until tenth grade, and by then he was…

Oh, my God, the letters.

He read them.

For some reason, this made my legs tremble and my heart race. Knowing he’d actually read the words I painstakingly wrote him, when I’d assumed he hadn’t, hit me hard. All those confessions of love, and how much I missed him…he’d seen them. Did he miss them when I’d stopped? Why had he never written back? All of these questions ran through my mind at lightning speed, but I didn’t voice them. It wasn’t because I was scared or anything, but because it didn’t matter why he never wrote me back or whether he enjoyed them or not.

It was in the past.

So I took a casual sip of beer and shrugged. He stared at my cheek, so I swiped the condensation away, even though it felt good against my hot skin. “Daddy thought the job had limited earning potential, and it didn’t help with the planned Thornton-Hastings merger…so, yeah. No teaching in my life. I went for marketing, instead. Graduated a month and a half ago.”

Despite the sexual tension I couldn’t ignore—or maybe because of—it was so easy to talk with him. To be myself. Maybe because I knew he didn’t judge me. I had a feeling I could tell him I liked to dance naked in the rain, and he would blink, grin, and ask me how the rain felt against my bare skin.

And I would tell him.

He stopped tapping the granite countertop. “Oh. And how do you feel about that?”

“Well, I—” Breaking off, I gaped at him, because I realized something right then. “You know, no one’s asked me that before.”

He pushed off the counter and walked up to me, stopping directly in front of me. I was eye level with his shoulders, and that naked silhouette of a woman who had bigger boobs than me, because he was that tall. “If you ask me, that’s messed up. It’s your damn life, not theirs. You should get to decide how you live it.”

“Yeah.” I took a sip of beer before tipping my head back. “You know what? It is. Screw them. I would’ve been a good kindergarten teacher.”

He laughed. “I’m sure you would’ve been.” He paused. “Still could be. You’re young. You could go back.”

“No.” I focused on my beer bottle. It was easier than looking at him. Less torturous, too. I tried to peel back the label on the beer, but it didn’t budge. “It’s too late. I have to hold down a job at the company, once the merger goes through. It’s part of the deal.”

“What deal?”

“Next year, I’m supposed to marry Derek Thornton the third, and our companies will unite.”

He cocked a brow. “Supposed to?”

“Yeah.” I pursed my lips, not going into more detail. He didn’t need to know I was trying to find a way out, and failing. Didn’t need to know how scared I was that I would have to follow through with the deal, even if just for a couple of years. “Daddy planned it out with Mr. Thornton years ago.”

“And you’re just gonna do it?”

I didn’t answer. Just stared at him.

He obviously got the point and crossed his arms. “Do I know this guy? The name sounds familiar.”

“His dad is friends with Daddy. Since before we were born.” I swallowed hard and let out a small laugh. “Also, you kind of punched him that night.”

His jaw dropped. “That was your fiancé?”

“He’s not my fiancé.” I shrugged. “But yeah. That was him, in the flesh.”

“He’s a preppy asshole.” He slammed his mouth shut and gritted his teeth so hard I heard it. “Why the hell would your dad want you to marry a guy like him?”

“The merger. Money. Promises.” I gave up peeling the label and glanced up at Jackson. Big mistake. Huge. Up close and personal, he looked even more irresistible. Was his stubble as rough as it looked? Or would it tickle my palm? “According to Daddy, I don’t have a choice.”

“There are always choices in life,” he said quietly, reaching out and sweeping a piece of hair out of my face. I held my breath at the tender move. “It’s how we deal with them that defines who we are.”

“I feel the same exact way.” But this time it’s different. Too many people depend on me to toe the line. “I’m trying to make my own choice, to do things my way, but it’s not that easy. Life’s not always easy.”

He released my hair. “Then make it that easy. Fight for yourself. If you do that, you never know where life will lead you.”

Hopefully, it led me to freedom. Or, at the very least, a short marriage and a quiet divorce. Because no matter what Daddy expected, I would not stay married to a man I didn’t love. And I certainly wouldn’t be popping out a baby with him.

Not to mention, I clearly wasn’t Derek’s type.

He was probably as unhappy about this proposed marriage as I was.

Finishing off the last of my beer, I set it down and peeked into the living room. “Do you need help unpacking? I could help you find a few shirts in those boxes, if you’d like.”

His mouth quirked into a half smile, and he finished his beer, too. “Nah. I’ve got it, and I know where my shirts are. I warned you I like to be naked. You’re lucky I’m wearing pants.”

Lucky, or unlucky? “Noted,” I said drily.

Turning his back on me, he took another beer out. The last one. After opening it, he took a swig and offered it to me. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

I took it, placing my lips where his had been. I tried to ignore the flutters in my stomach at the simple thing, but the way he watched my mouth…as if he was thinking about the things I thought about and more…yeah. That didn’t help. “Which question was that? I got distracted when we started talking about being naked. One-track mind and all that.”

He laughed. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. It is.”

“I asked you how you felt about not being a teacher?” He paused. “And about maybe marrying Preppy Prick?”

The sip of beer jammed in my throat, and I choked on it. He took the bottle out of my hand quickly and pounded on my back. By the time I could breathe again, my back stung from the gentle beating, and my throat was raw. “I-I’m okay.”

But I coughed again, so weakly, even I knew it sounded less than convincing.

“Yeah. Sure.” He cocked a brow and rubbed the spot between my shoulders he’d previously pounded. I would rather he pound—“If you say so.”