Page 40 of Sweet Virgin

You failed at that, remember?

The metal burned into the pads of my fingers, my arms shook as I stayed stagnant and unable to move.

No. You can't run this time.

It's not fair to Kealen, it's not his fault.

I knew this time I had to bite the bullet and do what they said. I couldn't let them take Kealen down with me. He didn't know what he had gotten himself into, he had no fucking clue who I was and what being with me could do to him.

And I led him straight into the flames.

I had every chance to tell him from the beginning, I could have told him from the start who I was and let him decide for himself if I was worth risking it all.

But I didn't.

I stole that from him, not giving him the option to walk away on his own or make the choice to stay.

And I still jumped in with two feet.

“Look who's back.” A dark chuckle echoed over my shoulder, the voice low and ominous. “I knew you'd come back, couldn't stay away for too long, huh?”

My head ticked over my shoulder, eyes veering in. Garrett was hovering over me, stroking his jaw with a waxed look on his face.

I wanted to punch him, knocking that look right off his face. Balling my fists, I twisted around, lips curling high. “Fuck off, Garrett. I didn't forget about what you said last time I saw you and I don't really want to hear what you have to say now.”

“Oo, feisty little girl, I like that.” His teeth shone brightly, like he was enjoying the reaction he caused. “Save that for in the bedroom, Sweetheart.”

My nails dug into my palms, piercing the skin. “Why don't you—”

“Allie. . . That's enough.” The voice of my father snapped in my ear, stopping me from finishing my sentence. “Garrett, Marc needs you to go get ready.” Nodding his head at Garrett, my father placed his hand over my shoulder and squeezed. “Welcome back.”

“Don't.”

“Don't what?”

“Don't try and be sweet to me.” Swatting his hand off my arm, I stepped back. “We need to talk.”

“You're right, we do.” Fanning out his arm, he held the door open. “Let's go into my office.”

Cocking a brow, I asked, “Your office?”

When did he get an office?

“Well, after everything happened, the producers really loved the other ideas I had and well. . .” Fanning his arms out, he took a small bow. “Say hello to the new project coordinator.”

He tried to rest his arm over my shoulder again, but I stepped away. “Look at you, you're finally the closest you've ever been to being famous without my help. Good for you.”

“Allie, come on. Don't be like that, everything I've ever done was always for you.”

Stopping short, I stared him down. “You're so full of shit.”

My father looked down at me, his eyes trying to show the emotions he thought I wanted to see. “What's that supposed to mean?” He wanted me to think he was hurt, that me calling him out was in someway crushing his fatherly soul.

I knew better. He thought I was stupid, that I was still this immature young girl who would believe everything her father told her.

That wasn't who I was. And if he had taken half a second to ever step back and ask me what I wanted or what I thought, he would know that.

Fuck, even a,'How was your day?'would have been nice from time to time. I never got more than a quick smile and a pile of papers in my lap telling me my next move.

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