When I come up for air, Celeste is looking up at me dazedly, still trembling through the aftershocks of her orgasm. I straighten up and join her on the couch, pulling her onto my lap and holding her tight.

“You okay, sugar?” I ask.

She hums her assent, melting against me. “That was amazing.”

I squeeze her tight, wanting nothing more than to pin her down again and fill her with my cock. I’m aching with need and it’s fucking torture. But Celeste still looks a little overwhelmed, so I just hold her, stroking her soft hair.

“I’m so glad I came over tonight,” she says, resting her head against my chest. “I almost changed my mind…I thought it might be weird for me to show up out of the blue.”

“Not at all, sugar. You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”

When I saw Celeste on my doorstep, I couldn’t believe it. I just had to kiss her. Hell, how could I resist?

She pulls back to look at me, smiling. “Thank you for your note.”

“Sorry it was so short. I’m not much of a writer.”

“It was perfect. I just wasn’t sure if I’d be able to get away from Brody tomorrow, so that’s why I figured I’d come tonight instead.”

The mention of her brother is like a shadow falling over me. I look at Celeste, holding her gaze firmly.

“I’m not gonna accept him keeping us apart. You know that, right? He can’t get away with treating you like a kid forever.”

She nods, pressing her lips together. “I know…but he has his reasons. I owe him everything.”

It’s not the first time she’s mentioned Brody having reasons for being overprotective. This time, my curiosity wins out.

“What are his reasons?”

Celeste smiles sadly. “You don’t want to hear my sob story.”

Her words make me frown. “I want to hear everything about you, sugar. Every last detail.”

For a moment, she says nothing. Then she leans in and presses a kiss on my lips—soft and simple—before she pulls back with a sigh.

“It’s because of our parents,” she says, keeping her eyes on the fire, the light throwing her face into shadow. “They were a happy family before I came along and ruined it.” I flinch, but she continues. “Dad was a soldier, so he was away a lot. When he was around, things were perfect between him and my mom, but she got pretty lonely without him. Then one night, when Dad was deployed and hadn’t been home for a while, Mom had a one-night stand with a stranger she met in a bar.” Celeste shakes her head. “I don’t know if she was drunk or what, but it was a mistake…and I was the result.”

She pauses, swallowing hard, and I give her a reassuring squeeze.

“So my dad…who wasn’t really my dad…he was furious when he came home to find his wife pregnant with another man’s kid. He left the Army to make sure it never happened again, and…well, he hated me. From the day I was born, he couldn’t stand the sight of me, and neither could my mom. To them, I was a constant reminder of what had happened—a mistake that nearly cost them their marriage.”

My jaw tightens at her words, the injustice of it making my veins burn with rage. I want to tell her it wasn’t her fault. That she did nothing wrong. But I don’t interrupt her as she continues her story.

“The abuse wasn’t physical,” she says. “But it was emotional. Most of the time, they just ignored me, but if they were in a bad mood, they’d take it out on me. They would shame me, tell me I was worthless, a mistake, that everything was perfect before I came along…” Her eyes shine with emotion, but she doesn’t cry. “Despite all that, I was lucky. I had Brody. He was sixteen when I was born, and he’s the one who raised me. He gave me all the love and care that our parents never did, and he always had my back when they insulted me. Even as he grew older, he stayed in the family home to keep me safe. He gave up so much to be there while I was growing up, just so I would have somebody who was on my side. I don’t know how I would have gotten through it without him. He even bought me books, so that I’d have an escape when he was busy at work.”

I’m clenching my teeth so tight it hurts. I’d love to go to Vermont right now and give her parents what they deserve. It makes me fucking sick to think of Celeste growing up in that environment.

“Brody wanted to move out and bring me with him,” she continues, answering a question that had been on the tip of my tongue. “But my parents wouldn’t allow it. Not because they wanted me there, but because they wanted Brody. They loved him even more than they hated me. He was their son…theirrealson…so they refused to give him custody. They kept him trapped with them. He could have said screw it and left me there, but he didn’t. He stayed.”

Despite my anger, I feel a grudging respect for Brody. Ever since I met Celeste, her brother has been a thorn in my side, but now my irritation toward him is melting away, replaced with something like gratitude. I’m so fucking glad he was there for her when she needed him. I can’t even imagine how much worse it would have been without him.

“When I turned eighteen,” Celeste continues, “I got accepted to a college in Denver, and we finally left our parents behind and moved in together. My brother wasn’t a city person, but he stayed with me until he was sure I could stand on my own two feet. It took six years to convince him. And even when he finally agreed to move out here, he wanted me to come too…” She shakes her head, suppressing a sob. “He’s been protecting me since I was born. I think he blames himself for our parents’ actions. He was the beloved son—the one our parents really wanted—and he feels guilty for that even now. His whole life has revolved around my safety, and I guess it’s just hard for him to let go…”

She tapers off and buries her face in her hands, muttering something that sounds like an apology. It makes my stomach sink to see her so upset.

“Come here, sugar,” I say, squeezing her tight. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

She cries softly against my chest, and I feel a surge of protectiveness as I hold her in my arms. I want to keep her safe. I want to defend her from anybody who would try to hurt her, so she never has to feel this kind of pain again.