Chapter 28 – Rhiannon #2
He’s silent, his lips have formed a thin line and I’m embarrassed as hell that it got to this point and that I compromised my license in order to sleep with a client, even if it’s a made up one that Cain created just to get me to spend some time with him.
I sigh and take a deep breath, realizing I might be overreacting. “Look, I would never do this with an actual client. I’m freaking out because I’m embarrassed.” I shake my head.
“I never filled out the new client paperwork. Nothing about this was unethical if that’s what you’re worried about. It was also after our scheduled hour was up. We didn’t do anything wrong and I’m sorry for forgetting a condom.”
I bite my lip and nod. “Cain, I can’t afford to be reckless. I’m not a lawyer. I don’t have a family of lawyers backing me if I screw up unless you count Leo. And my family needs me to be focused.”
He stays quiet, watching me.
“But beyond that, I have a lot of responsibility on my shoulders. Eden. My brother. The thrift store…” My dead parents. “Everyone’s counting on me to keep things going, to make them laugh, to do the right thing at all times.”
He steps closer and reaches for my hand. His fingers slide around my wrist, warm and steady.
“Let me take some of that burden from your shoulders. I like you, Rhiannon. A lot. I’m not sure how else to show you that.”
I shake my head. This isn’t his to carry. It’s mine. These are the choices I made. The consequences I earned. My penance that I must pay. It’s why I can’t ask for help and why I work so hard. I don’t deserve help after what I did.
“I like you too,” I admit quietly. “And that’s what terrifies me.”
His fingers tighten around my wrist, a wordless encouragement to keep going.
“I…” I drag a shaky hand through my hair. “I’m sorry. I should go.”
“Stay.” His voice softens, and those green eyes plead with me. “We don’t have to do anything more. We can just talk. I just want to hold you. Be with you. I’m only happy when I’m around you.”
That causes my heart to stumble because I understand.
God, I understand what he means. The idea of staying with him tonight, of not disappearing in the morning, wraps around me like a warm blanket that I don’t think I deserve.
One night where I could just exist. Breathe.
Be seen. But before I can say fuck it to my rules and self-punishment, his phone rings from somewhere behind him.
Cain curses under his breath and waits for it to go to voicemail but it doesn’t. It immediately starts ringing again.
“Fuck me,” he mutters, dropping my wrist and grabbing it off the counter. “Hey, Dad.”
He listens quietly, eyes locked on mine the entire time, nodding and sighing. “Fine. I’ll be there.”
When he hangs up, he crosses the room and pulls me into his chest, his arms firm and solid around me.
“I’m sorry. For everything tonight. For wasting your time. For pushing. For being reckless with your body and your mind. I know you’ve got a lot on your shoulders. I should’ve been more careful. I wish you’d let me help you out, but I understand.”
I melt into his hold. Tears form at the edges of my eyes as he holds me and runs his soothing hands up and down my back.
I never thought I’d feel this close to someone.
I never thought I’d let anyone in as far as I’ve let Cain.
But maybe that’s why it had to be him. It had to start off casual, built on half-truths and little lies so I could pretend I wasn’t giving anything away until suddenly I’d given him everything except the one thing that still haunts me.
Now I want to tell him all of it. My parents. My past. Why I stay busy to the point of exhaustion. Why asking for help feels like stepping off a cliff. Why I’ll sacrifice myself at the altar for my sister.
I want him to understand me in a way no one ever has because I see now that I can trust him not to see my ugly and run away. Isn’t that the point of love? Finding someone who makes you brave enough to be vulnerable.
But before I can say a word, he pulls back just enough, his thumb brushing along my jaw while his eyes search mine, steady and serious, like he can already see the confession that’s forming in my throat.
“That was my dad. A client on the West Coast needs me and it’s urgent. I have to leave tonight.”
“Oh.”
I try to hide my disappointment, but I know it’s written all over my face. This chaos, this constant pull in a hundred directions with priorities that will always trump me, is Cain’s life. The life I’d have to somehow fit into if I said yes to dating him.
And that makes my stomach churn and tears form again.
We’re incompatible. I don’t deserve the luxury of a relationship. And trying might make the ending even more painful.
“I’ll be back in a few days,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry. I want to stay here with you and figure this out.”
I nod and manage a smile. “It’s okay. It’s your job. It’s fine.”
It’s not. I need you right now and I’ve never needed someone like this before. Please don’t go.
He studies me for a long moment. “When do you meet with Rebel?”
“Tomorrow.”
He exhales sharply. “I don’t want you to go.”
I force my smile brighter, a weak attempt at humor. “I’ll be fine, Cain.”
Because this all only reinforces what I know. That I need to pursue this opportunity with Rebel, just like I need to keep hustling and working hard to support my family. I don’t have the luxury of saying no to business opportunities. I don’t have the luxury of slowing down.
His hand comes up to gently cup my chin, thumb dragging along my jaw before he kisses me. It’s soft but desperate, full of everything we don’t have words for. The frustration and fear dissolve instantly but the knowing remains.
When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine.
“Give me a chance,” he whispers. “Give this a chance. I’m not a patient man, Rhiannon. But for you, I have been. Just… give me an answer when I get back to my question. I want to take you on a proper date. I want you to be mine. We’ll figure it out as long as we’re together.”
I nod, my throat clogged with words. “Okay.”
He smiles faintly and kisses me once more before walking me to the elevator. “I’ll walk you to the train station. I’d drive you home, but I have to get to the airport.”
I shake my head. “That’s okay. I could use the fresh air and time alone.”
“Then let me pay for your cab so you don’t have to walk.”
I hesitate but finally agree. And a few minutes later I’m across town, at the station, watching the city buried in snow whizz by outside the window.
My reflection in the glass pane looks calm, but inside, my thoughts are spiraling caught somewhere between wanting him, needing him, and knowing I should let him go.
My fingers hover over my phone screen, tempted to send him a text. Something like, ‘thanks for the offer, but tonight was a reminder of why we need to stop this before it goes any further.’
But I can’t even type the message because I know in my heart that’s not what I want. I lock my phone and stuff it into my bag with a frustrated sigh. My dad always told me to never make a decision when I’m feeling emotional and the truth is, we’re already in too deep.
I replay the night in painstaking detail. This is how things are every time I let my guard down around him, I do things that I’d never do with anyone else. I give him parts of my heart that I shouldn’t.
And now my mind keeps wandering back to how good it felt, even for a fleeting moment, to be wanted. Desired. To feel like I might deserve emotional safety. Like maybe I could let someone cherish and take care of me.
When I’m with Cain, things don’t feel so heavy. I feel like I get to be a twenty-eight-year-old woman, alive and unburdened having a fun time with a guy that I'm into.
The thought clings to me like a stubborn shadow, but I shake it off and force myself to focus on the blur of passing scenery for the rest of the two-hour ride.
By the time I finally reach my front steps, it’s well after midnight, and exhaustion has replaced the confusion that’s settled deep in my bones.
I head straight for my bedroom, not even glancing at my inbox or the comments piling up on my socials. I can deal with all of that tomorrow. Right now, I just want sleep and a clear mind before my meeting with Rebel tomorrow.
I fall onto the bed, still too wired to even close my eyes.
After a beat, I get back up, lock the door, and slide my hand into my underwear.
It’s reckless and a little pathetic that I’m doing this instead of letting Cain take care of it earlier, but the second my fingers hit my clit, the thought disappears.
I chase the orgasm I denied myself; my mind flooded with him.
Cain. His mouth, his hands, the way he’d whisper against my skin like he owned every part of me. And the image that finally pushes me over the edge is him finishing inside me, no condom between us, just heat and pressure and the kind of trust that terrifies me more than anything else.