the end of the season brought me home and I moved on to college with no more talk of being cut off.
“Oh my gosh, Carter.” I threw my arms around him. “Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Carter held me tight, lifting me off my feet. “You’re very welcome,” he said. “When the end comes and I’m the only one on my knee, you’ll have to marry me.”
I laughed. “Very funny.”
“Did I make a joke?”
Pulling back, I lit on that familiar grin—the same that shone under the flashing lights of the winter formal.
“I hope so,” I said slowly. “We’re not getting married, Carter.”
“Then you’re choosing the underpass?”
A sinking weight made me heavy in his arms. “You’re not serious. You don’t want to marry me. You said yourself that you didn’t forgive me.”
His shrug moved me against him. “Dad says since I’m not joining the company, it’s a trust fund for me. That fund will be significantly bigger if I’ve got a wife and future family in the works. I’ve grown accustomed to a certain standard of living. I’m not holing up in some second-rate New Jersey bachelor pad when a New York penthouse, French chateau, apartment in Seoul, and mansion in South Africa all have my name on it.”
“Carter—”
“I came here to choose someone—anyone—that I could tolerate for the next twenty-plus years, why shouldn’t that be you?”
“Because you hate me!” I flung him away, stumbling on the beach. “More than I thought you did. We’d kill each other after twenty days, Carter. I’m not marrying you!”
He tsked. “Shame. Here I was thinking this was the best way to get what we both want.”
“Did you miss the part where I said I don’t want to be married at all? Let alone to some ass looking to score more money off his daddy.”
“Scratch that. It’s the best way to get what I want.”
It was everything in me not to punch the smirk off his face.
And it still wasn’t enough.
I swung. Carter jumped back and I struck a glancing blow off his chin. He staggered back, guffawing.
I jabbed at the assembled two-minute daters. “Go back and tell them you’re as fake as your disease!”
“Why would I do that? All Mrs. Desai has to do is gush to your parents about the great match you made. They’ll be waiting for my proposal and your yes. If you don’t give it, it’s you who loses everything.”
“Carter, I’m not playing with you,” I said through clenched teeth. “The joke is over. You may not be in love with anyone here, but you hate me. You dropped me in middle school and then fell into a black hole during high school. You wouldn’t trap yourself in a life with me for your father’s bank accounts, company, or his collection of vintage cars.
“You did something nice for me by getting the other guys off my back. For once let’s walk away on good terms and not dive into a shitty summer going after each other again.”
Carter listened to my whole speech, nodding along. “Belle.” He closed the distance between us. “You underestimate me, and how far I’ll go to get what I want. I know that look on Preston’s face. He’s wrecked over you and on the edge of throwing away Delilah and his future for another taste of your crumbs. It’s because he can’t see you for who you really are. But you’re going to tell him. If you don’t want to become Mrs. Belle Adler-Knight, you’ll tell everyone the truth about that day and what you did to me.”
I tried to hold his gaze. Against my will, my eyes moved to his scar, and then I couldn’t look at him at all.
Carter will never let that day go. Why should he? I haven’t either.
“Preston isn’t wrecking anything for me,” I said. “I’ve done nothing but turn him down.”
“Don’t want to hear it, Belle. What I do want to hear is the truth and all of this stops.” He jerked his chin over my shoulder. “You can still use me as a cover and walk off the island as a single woman. If you don’t do it, I will propose to you and you’ll have an entirely different choice on your hands.”
I spoke through numb lips. “This means so much to you that you’d marry someone you don’t love?”
He made a harsh noise. “What’s marriage anyway? Just two people agreeing to live in the same house, spend each other’s money, and have mediocre sex until one