14. Keaton
Chapter 14
Keaton
I was late.
Typical, really. My father would have a field day with that one. He always did.
As I stood there, I glanced at the drink in her hand. A three-dollar fruity thing. The thought made me want to buy it for her, not that she would care. She seemed too grounded for that. And somehow, that made her unpredictable.
She intrigued me.
Elodie Winters, the scholarship kid. She was pretty, stunning even, but she hid it well beneath baggy clothes and bad posture. Her hair fell in soft waves around her face, like she couldn't decide whether to tame it or let it run wild. Her eyes, though, they were sharp and observant. Eyes that saw through bullshit and pretenses.
There was something innocent about her, something untainted by the world I lived in. It made me want to corrupt it.
Her presence bothered me in a way I couldn’t quite pin down. Maybe it was because she didn’t seem impressed by the things that usually worked on people—money, status, control. No, Elodie looked at me like I was just another guy in a room full of sweaty jocks and stale air.
And for once, I didn’t mind being seen like that.
The cafe was almost empty now; only summer class kids were on campus. Most were traveling around the world or lazily sun-bathing by a luxurious pool. I should be preparing for a wedding—my wedding.
Instead, I found myself studying Elodie.
“Well?” I said, my voice slicing through the thick silence between us. “You wanna go first?”
Elodie shifted in front of me, discomfort written all over her face. I liked that. I liked making her feel uncomfortable. I liked making her feel anything at all.
“I don’t know what to do,” she mumbled, her eyes darting everywhere but at me.
“You tell me what you want from this marriage,” I said, leaning back against the chair, arms crossed. “Like a business arrangement.”
“And you’ll just agree to it?” she asked skeptically.
“Depends on what it is,” I replied, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. “I mean, there’s no way in fuck I’ll be your husband and let you have a goddamn boyfriend. Or see anyone for that matter.”
Elodie almost choked on her drink, eyes widening in shock.
I narrowed my eyes at her. “What?”
“You think I’ll get a boyfriend?” she asked, like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.
“Being my wife is going to elevate your status,” I said, my voice taking an edge. “You’ll find not everyone likes me. They're going to want to embarrass me."
Elodie nodded, her eyes meeting mine with a newfound resolve. “All right, then. Here’s what I expect from you as my husband.” She took a deep breath. “Fidelity. Respect. And no lying.”
I raised an eyebrow, leaning in slightly. “You realize you’re going to be wealthy for the rest of your life, right? You can’t expect loyalty from me on top of that.”
She didn’t flinch. Instead, she met my gaze head-on. “Fine,” she said, her voice steady and firm. “But then I’m allowed the same right to see other people as you are.”
The thought of anyone seeing her, touching her, made my blood boil. It was an irrational reaction; I barely knew her, yet the idea of another man’s hands on her skin made my jaw tighten. I couldn’t understand this possessiveness when we’d only shared a single kiss.
I didn’t like it.
“Absolutely not,” I snapped, my voice colder than I intended. “That’s not how this works.”
Her expression hardened, the resolve in her eyes never wavering. “So it’s okay for you but not for me?”
“Yes,” I said without hesitation.
“That’s unfair,” she replied calmly, crossing her arms over her chest.
“It’s reality,” I countered, trying to keep my voice level.
She leaned closer, her face inches from mine. “Then you’re going to have to find another girl to play house with,” she said softly but firmly.
I could feel the tension between us like an electric current. It was maddening—this girl who should have been nothing more than a pawn in my game was standing up to me like no one else ever had.
“Babes—” I began, but she cut me off.
“No,” she said firmly. “If you can’t give me fidelity, then we have nothing more to discuss.”
I clenched my fists at my sides, trying to contain the anger and frustration boiling within me. How could she make such demands when she stood to gain so much?
But deep down, a part of me respected her for it.
And that only made it worse.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. “Look, let’s start over,” I said, my voice softer but still firm. “Here’s what I want from you. Respect. You’re my wife.”
Elodie tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to read between the lines.
“What does that mean to you?” she asked.
I leaned back against the locker, crossing my arms over my chest. “It means standing by my side in public, supporting me even when you don’t agree with me. It means not undermining me in front of others.”
She stayed silent, listening intently.
“It means loyalty,” I continued, the words coming out almost automatically. “You don’t have to love me or even like me, but you need to be loyal. Don’t betray my trust.”
I could feel her eyes on me, but I kept my gaze fixed on the pink drink.
“It means being a partner,” I added after a moment, the words surprising even myself. “Someone I can rely on, someone who won’t walk away when things get tough.”
As I spoke, memories of my parents’ marriage flashed through my mind. My father was controlling and demanding, yes, but he and my mother had shared something real—something that went beyond mere obligation.
They loved each other.
I knew that for a fact.
Even when they fought—God, they fought all the time—they always came back to each other. They had each other’s backs, no matter what. It was the one thing that stood out in the chaos of their relationship: their unyielding loyalty to one another.
I nearly scowled at the thought. The last person I wanted to turn into was my father. But…
But they did love each other.
“And respect means treating me like an equal,” I added, my voice softer now. “Not just some pawn in your game or a means to an end.”
Elodie’s expression softened slightly as she absorbed my words.
“I can do that,” she said quietly after a moment. “But it has to go both ways.”
Her words hung in the air between us, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a glimmer of hope—a possibility that maybe this arrangement could be something more than just another transaction.
Maybe it could be real.
I took a deep breath, preparing myself for what I had to say next. “You also need to be aware that as husband and wife, there will be expectations.”
Her frown deepened, her head tilting slightly. She didn’t interrupt, though. She was good at that—listening without jumping in. It was one of the things I liked about her.
“There will be a variety of events we’ll be expected to entertain,” I continued. “Fundraisers, charity galas, business dinners—you name it. And at these events, I’ll expect you to dress up and play the game. Keep your ears open and your mouth shut. Look pretty.”
Her frown didn’t waver, but she stayed silent, absorbing my words.
“I don’t trust half the assholes my father surrounds himself with,” I admitted, my voice dropping to a lower tone. “The last thing I need is anyone picking our marriage apart, especially since I’m not exactly listening to Daddy Dearest. It’s not fair, but that’s going to fall on you.”
She looked away, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “I don’t have… I’m not…” She paused, biting her lip before looking back at me. “The clothes I have aren’t exactly glamorous.”
I softened. Just a fraction. “Don’t worry about that,” I said firmly. “Don’t ever worry about money. I’ll buy you whatever the hell you want as long as you put effort into looking like…”
“Like?” she prompted.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair in frustration. “Look, babes, you’re already beautiful,” I said honestly. “But you’re… rough around the edges. Like me. I want you to make everyone’s jaw drop at these events, and a couple are coming up soon.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared at me with those sharp eyes of hers, like she was trying to figure me out.
Finally, she nodded slowly. “I can do that."
Relief washed over me unexpectedly, and I gave her a small nod in return.
“Good,” I said simply.
"You also should know," I continued, my voice taking on a more serious tone. "As husband and wife, there will be times we need to put on public displays of affection. I don't want anyone picking apart the marriage and trying to find any reason to annul it."
"Could they?" Elodie asked, her brows furrowing in concern.
"You don't understand the kind of power my father has," I said, shaking my head. "Look, I promise you I won't ever force you. But you'll have to hold my hand in public, maybe we dance, and maybe we kiss."
She gave me a long look, her eyes searching mine for any sign of deceit. "So, if I never want to have sex…"
"You can't have it both ways," I interrupted, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "You have to be reasonable here. You never want to have sex with me, fine, but I'm going to find it from someone else. I can promise you it won't be your friends?—"
"So, you're saying the only way to get your fidelity is by having sex with you?" she asked, her voice steady despite the storm brewing in her eyes.
I sighed deeply, running a hand through my hair. This conversation was heading into dangerous territory. "Look," I said, trying to keep my tone calm and rational. "After we get married, we'll have to consummate it. We have to. I don't want there to be any reason anyone can question it. But after that… after that, it's up to you."
Elodie gave me another long look, her expression unreadable. The silence stretched between us like a taut wire ready to snap.
I could see the gears turning in her mind as she weighed her options. This wasn’t just a business deal for her; it was a life-changing decision that would affect everything she held dear.
Finally, she nodded slowly. “Okay,” she said softly. “I understand.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, my voice a low growl.
“I understand,” she repeated. “Just like if you don't want to have sex with me, I can find it from someone else. Right?”
I clenched my teeth together, anger surging through me. The idea of her with someone else was infuriating. “The only person you're ever going to fuck is me. Or that's it.”
My memory flashed to Lola, to walking in on her and my best friend. The betrayal had cut deep, leaving scars I still felt.
“I've been betrayed by a bitch once,” I said, my voice tight with bitterness. “I won't tolerate it from my wife.”
“But you can—” she started.
“I never said this was going to be fair,” I interrupted, cutting her off.
“I just don't want you to make me a fool,” she said quietly.
I closed my mouth, taken aback by the raw honesty in her voice. “What do you mean?”
“This marriage is already like a business deal,” she explained, her eyes meeting mine with a fierce determination. “Which I understand. But I don't want people whispering about me and feeling sorry for me because you can't keep your dalliances private. Like we all have to pretend it's not happening. I-I won't accept that.” She clenched her teeth, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “Even if it means marrying…” She trailed off, struggling to find the words.
Her gaze pierced through me, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. There was a strength in her that demanded respect.
I nodded slowly, understanding what she was asking for. “Fine,” I said finally, my voice softer but still firm. “I’ll keep it private.”
Elodie’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and she gave me a small nod in return. I could tell she didn't like it, but… but if she wasn't going to have sex with me, she had to understand.
"Okay," I said, crossing my arms. "So we're on the same page… I'll pay off your stepfamily's debt in order to marry you. I'll provide you with everything—a house, food, clothes, all of it."
"And school," she added.
"What?" I asked, taken aback.
"I don't want to give up the academy," she clarified.
I frowned, trying to process her words. "I wouldn't make you," I said firmly.
She nodded, her shoulders relaxing a bit.
"And you'll be loyal," I continued. "The perfect wife. And you understand after we get married, we'll?—"
"Consummate the marriage," she interrupted, her voice tinged with nervousness. "Make it official."
I nodded, appreciating her bluntness despite the awkwardness of the topic.
"Is there anything else?" I asked, eager to finalize our agreement.
"What about your hockey career?" she asked, catching me off guard again.
I jerked back slightly. "What?"
"You're a hockey player, right?" she pressed. "I don't know much about hockey, but aren't you eligible for… isn't there a draft? What if you get drafted?"
Uncomfortable now, I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. "Don't worry about that?—"
"You play well," she said earnestly. "I've watched you."
"Look, shut up about hockey," I snapped, my frustration bubbling over. "Is there anything else?"
Elodie blinked at my outburst but didn't push further. The tension in the room thickened as we stood there in silence.
"How long?" she asked.
"How long what?" I replied flatly.
"Do we stay married? Is this a forever thing?"
I smirked, trying to lighten the tension. "Already trying to get rid of me, babes?"
She just looked at me, not responding, her eyes searching mine for answers.
I sighed. "I don't know yet. At least a year. Dad has to believe I'm serious about it or he'll definitely cut me off."
"Okay," she said, her voice steady.
"You can stay with me for at least a year?"
"I think I'll manage," she said, a faint hint of determination in her tone.
I stuck out my hand. "Do we have a deal?"
Elodie gave my hand a long look, and I held my breath. Slowly, she placed her hand in mine. A jolt ran through me at the touch—a spark. Her hand was so much smaller than mine. Warm and soft. I liked it more than I cared to admit.
"It's a deal," she said.
"Great," I said with a smirk. "Let's get married."