The Arrangement (A Real Man, #23) - Jenika Snow

Lenora

He hated me.

I loved him.

I had feelings for Beckham for so long it was a part of me now. But because his father married my mother, I knew there was no chance of us ever being together. We couldn’t cross that line. I wouldn’t for fear of ruining our relationship.

But then my mother betrayed his father, destroying our family and ripping Beckham from me.

Hurtful things were said, things that broke my heart.

I never thought I’d see him again. It was an unmeasurable pain.

And six months later, I found myself having to turn to him, the man I loved.... the man who hated me.

He agreed to let me stay with him until I was on my feet again. But what arrangement did he have in mind? What did he want as payment?

Beckham

She thought I hated her.

She couldn’t be further from the truth.

I was so in love with her that no one else mattered. But I screwed that up in one moment of pain, in one second of hurt.

It wasn’t even her fault, but I’d taken it out on Lenora. And I regretted it every day since. I wanted to call her so many times. I’d driven by her house like a stalker, wanting to talk to her, to beg for forgiveness.

But now was my time to make things right.

Now was my chance to prove to her I’d do whatever it took to have her forgive me... to have her love me too.

Chapter One

Lenora

I wondered if I was making the biggest damn mistake of my life. But desperation had people doing crazy shit, and moving in with my stepbrother, the one I’d wanted since the first day his father married my mother and he joined my family, was pretty high on the list of insane shit.

The cab pulled up in front of the house, and all I could do was sit there looking at the small two-story structure, wondering if I could have gone another route. I hadn’t spoken to Beckham in almost six months—well, hadn’t talked to him up until I called him last month and all but begged for his help.

Jobless, nearly penniless, and refusing to call my mother for help, I knew he was the only other person I could rely on.

My life had gone down the shit drain, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Months ago, our parents divorced when it was revealed that mother had a longstanding affair with one of her students at the university. I’d never seen hatred from Beckham before, but that day... I’d seen pure rage from him reflected toward my mom, and me as well.

Like I had something to do with it.

But I supposed I might have felt the same way if the roles had been reversed, angry that our family unit had been broken up by infidelity, that a broken home was our story now.

So I got it, and that’s why it had been so hard for me to call Beckham and ask for help, to see if I could stay with him until I got my shit in order.

Did he still project his anger at me because of what my mother had done, how she’d shown no remorse over her actions? A part of me hated her for that too, and that’s why I’d barely spoken to her since… because she truly didn’t think she’d done anything wrong.

“Miss?”

I glanced over at the driver. He was staring at me, this expectant look on his face, the unspoken “can you get the fuck out of my car?” expression on his face pretty loud.

He was probably wondering what in the hell my problem was, why I was just sitting here staring at my destination and not getting out of his damn car.

I reached in my pocket and grabbed my money, giving him what I owed and climbing out. He popped the trunk, not even bothering to help me with my bag, and as soon as I grabbed it and closed the door, he was driving off, leaving me there to face this myself. I looked at the house again, my heart in my throat.

As I stood there for long moments just staring at Beckham’s house, a part of me wanted to just turn around and start walking, to not look back, to not worry about what all this meant. I replayed the last thing he said to me on the phone when I had to beg—humiliate myself in asking for help.

“Oh, don’t worry, Lenora. I’ll think of some way for you