I pulled the car to a slow stop in front of Megan's building, my hands tightening on the steering wheel as I took in the sight of her place. I'd been to some shitty neighborhoods in my time, but this? This was something else.
The building looked like it hadn't seen maintenance in years—cracked concrete, graffiti plastered across the walls, and a broken street lamp flickering on the corner. There were a couple of guys hanging around the entrance, smoking, their eyes following the car as we pulled up.
And the building itself? Hell, it looked like a stiff breeze would knock it over.
I shifted in my seat, my jaw clenching as I tried to rein in the frustration bubbling up inside me. This was where she lived? This was where she came home every day?
No fucking way. How could my fiance live in this dump?
Megan unbuckled her seatbelt, glancing over at me with a small, tired smile. She looked calm, like this was just another day, like she didn't notice the crumbling mess she lived in. But I noticed. I noticed everything.
"I'll see you tomorrow, I guess," she said, her voice soft, as she reached for the door handle.
"Wait." I stopped her before she could get out, my voice sharper than I intended. Her hand froze on the handle, and she turned to look at me, one eyebrow raised.
"What?"
I stared at her for a moment, trying to figure out how to say what I needed to say without pissing her off. But I couldn't hold it back. I couldn't let her stay here. Not even for another night.
"You're moving out," I said, my tone leaving no room for argument. Her eyes widened, and she blinked at me, clearly taken aback.
"What?" she asked, shaking her head like she hadn't heard me. "What are you talking about?"
"I mean it, Megan," I said, gesturing to the building in front of us. "This place is a fucking dump. You can't stay here. It's dangerous. You're moving out, and it better be tomorrow."
She stared at me for a moment, her expression shifting from confusion to anger. I could see the fire building in her eyes, and I knew I'd delivered it wrong. Shit.
"Excuse me?" she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. "You think you can just tell me to move out of my home? Where do you get off?"
"This isn't a home!" I shot back, my voice rising in frustration. "Look at it, Megan. There are gangsters hanging around the entrance, the building looks like it's about to collapse, and you're telling me you're okay living here? It's not safe."
She shook her head, her brows furrowing in anger. "This is all I can afford, Caleb! I don't have the luxury of living in some fancy penthouse like you. This is what my money gets me, so don't you dare look down on me for it."
I clenched my jaw, trying to push down the frustration that was threatening to boil over. This wasn't about me looking down on her. This was about her safety. But I could see how she'd think that. Damn it, I should've worded it differently.
"I'm not looking down on you," I said, forcing myself to keep my voice calm. "I'm just… worried, okay? This place is dangerous. I don't want anything happening to you."
Her expression softened a little, but I could still see the tension in her stance, the way her arms were still crossed defensively. She sighed, shaking her head.
"I can't just move out, Caleb," she said, her voice quieter now. "I have a roommate. And even if I didn't, I don't have the money to rent a better place. You know where all my money goes."
I did know. I knew exactly where her money was going—to her mom's treatment. The thought of it made my chest tighten. She was sacrificing everything for her family, and yet, here she was, living in this shithole, putting herself at risk every day.
It pissed me off, but not at her. At the situation. At the unfairness of it all.
I ran a hand through my hair, trying to think. There had to be a solution. And then it hit me.
"I have a place," I said, my tone a little more measured now. "It's just sitting empty. You can move in there."
Her eyes widened again, and this time, the look on her face was pure disbelief. "What? No, Caleb, I can't do that. I'm not… I'm not some kept woman."
I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "You're not a kept woman, Megan. You're going to be my wife. In every sense of the word."
That shut her up. Her lips parted, but no words came out, and I could see the conflict in her eyes. She wasn't used to this—having someone offer her something without strings attached.
But I wasn't offering this because I wanted something from her. I was offering it because I cared. More than I probably should.
Before she could argue again, I leaned in and kissed her. It was soft at first, just enough to distract her from whatever protest she'd been about to make. But then it deepened, and I felt her melt into me, her hands sliding up to tangle in my hair. I groaned into her mouth, the taste of her driving me wild, and I couldn't help but pull her closer.
When I finally pulled back, both of us were breathing hard, and I could see the flush in her cheeks.
"You can bring your friend," I said, my voice still a little rough from the kiss. "Your roommate. The condo is big enough for both of you. It's nicer, safer, and you won't have to worry about rent. But when we get married, of course, you'll stay with me at my place."
She stared at me, still trying to process everything, so I kept going. "I have homes all over the country. Hell, I've got places outside of the country too. You can pick one if you want. I'll give it to you after the divorce."
That seemed to snap her out of it. She blinked, her brow furrowing as she looked at me like I'd grown another head.
"Why are you so generous?" she asked, her voice filled with suspicion. "What's the catch?"
I smirked, leaning in close again, my lips brushing against hers as I whispered, "That'll only happen if you satisfy me."
I kissed her again, deeper this time, my hand sliding up to cup her cheek. I couldn't get enough of her. The way she tasted, the way her body responded to mine—it was addictive. And fuck, she'd already satisfied me more than I thought possible.
I broke the kiss, my lips still hovering over hers as I murmured, "And so far, woman, you've satisfied me thoroughly."
She rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips told me she wasn't as annoyed as she pretended to be. I kissed her again, softer this time, and for a moment, everything else faded away. It was just the two of us, lost in the heat of the moment.
But then, a voice cut through the air, shattering the bubble we were in.
"Megan?"
We both froze, our heads snapping toward the sound. A woman was standing a few feet away from the car, her eyes wide with surprise as she stared at us.
"Megan," the woman said again, her voice more insistent this time. "Who is this?"
Megan pulled away from me, her face flushing as she quickly climbed out of the car, smoothing down her dress as she did. I followed her out, my eyes narrowing as I took in the woman standing in front of us.
She was about Megan's age, with short blonde hair and an expression that could only be described as suspicious.
"This is Britney," Megan said, glancing between me and her friend. "My roommate."
Ah, so this was the friend she'd been talking about. The one she didn't want to leave behind. I could already tell from the way Britney was staring at me that she wasn't exactly thrilled about my presence.
"Well," Britney said, crossing her arms as she looked me up and down, "are you going to introduce me to your friend?"
Megan shot me a look, her eyes pleading for me to play nice. I could do that. For her.
I stepped forward, offering my hand. "Caleb Drake. Megan's fiancé."
Britney's eyes widened, and I could see the gears turning in her head as she processed that information. But she didn't say anything. Not yet, anyway.