We are lying in bed, Ares's arms wrapped around me. I feel safe, content, and loved.

It's strange to think that word. Loved. But it's exactly how I feel right now. It's stupid, I know. Trust me, I know. This is suppsoed to be a fling, a fun time. But sometimes it doesn't feel that way. Every time he says he misses me, every time he touches me like he couldn't stand to be apart, I feel it. The love. And I fall deeper. It's going to hurt when he leaves, when we have to put an end to this. I know it will. I am already hurting and it hasn't even happened yet.

"So," he starts, his voice hesitant. "How was your weekend?"

His fingers trail a path across my skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. It's like he's tracing a map of me.

I snuggle in closer before answering. "It was great," I tell him, a smile tugging at my lips. "We had a lot of fun."

"Tell me about it," he says, his voice low and rumbly.

Ares is always asking about my day, and now about my weekend. It's like he wants to keep up with my life outside of him, but not in a posessive way. In a way that is truley interested in knowing the little details.

"Well, we went to the game on Saturday, and the team won. Then we went out to a club to celebrate the win. Everyone was really friendly, and it was a lot of fun."

He nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "And that's when you danced with that guy."

His words are not a question, nor an accusation. He's just stating a fact.

"It is," I confirm, feeling the heat rush to my cheeks.

"What was that like?" he asks, his fingers never ceasing their featherlight exploration of my skin.

"It was nice," I say, chewing my lip. "He was a good dancer, and he seemed like a nice guy."

"But?"

"But he wasn't you," I admit, my heart fluttering at the admission.

"Damn straight," he growls, the sound rumbling deep in his chest.

His possessiveness shouldn't turn me on, but it does. It isn't the normal type of jealous possessiveness but rather the possessiveness of a confident man. A secure man. A sexy man.

"What else did you do? Surely you didn't spend all weekend in your hotel room."

He already knows most of what I did. Although we didn't text much, I did send him pictures. I indulge his question anyway.

"Well, we spent all day yesterday shopping. I bought more clothes for my internship and maybe a few other things."

"Like what?" he asks, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Maybe something you will get to see me in later," I tease, my voice coy.

"Mmm, I like the sound of that," he murmurs, his voice husky.

His hands roam over my body, igniting a fire within me. I already want him again, but I'm still a little sore, not to mention utterly exhausted.

"Do you know where mom and Archer went? They were both in a hurry."

He hesitates before answering. "They had some errands to run, I think."

Something in his voice makes me think he isn't telling me everything, but I decide not to push.

"How long do you think they'll be gone?"

Before he can answer, there is a knock on his bedroom door seconds before it opens.

"Hey, Ares, Julie and I..." Archer trails off, his eyes going wide as he takes in the scene.

Me and Ares are lying in his bed, naked, his hands roaming my body.

"Holy shit," Archer breathes, his eyes darting from Ares to me and back again.

I try to cover myself, but it's no use. Archer has seen enough.

"What the hell, Ares?" he exclaims, his face red with anger.

"What the hell yourself," Ares replies, his voice calm. Ares sits up, letting the blanket pool around his waist. "You shouldn't barge into someone's room without knocking."

"I did knock!" Archer exclaims. "Now explain what the fuck you're doing in bed with my stepdaughter."

How can Ares be so calm when I'm freaking out? I could die from embarrassment and shame right now. I want to hide under the blanket, but it's caught on something and won't pull up. Tears sting my eyes. This is exactly what I didn't want to happen.

"We are adults, Archer," Ares says, his voice cool and level. He sounds so reasonable. "And what we do is our business."

"Not when it involves family, it isn't," Archer spits out, his eyes burning with anger. "Jesus Christ!"

"Oh please, we're not actually related," Ares points out. "I didn't even know her before the wedding. It isnt like I knew her as a a child!"

Ares is right, but so is Archer. I knew this would be the argument if we were ever found out.

"Not by blood, but that doesn't matter," he counters, his tone firm. "For fuck's sake, Ares. She is the daughter of my wife. My step-daughter." His tone changes when he says step-daughter like it's a dirty word. "Not to mention you are twice her fucking age."

Ares's jaw clenches, and I can see the anger simmering below the surface.

"I don't give a fuck what you think, Archer. I'm a grown man, and I can make my own decisions. So can Emma."

I was trying my best to appear invisible, but Ares saying my name causes Archer to turn his eyes back on me. The look he gives me says a million things at once. He grimaces and turns back to Ares.

"She's barely an adult. She doesn't know any better," he argues, his face flushed with anger.

I have never felt more like a child in my life. I yank at the blanket until it comes free from whatever was holding onto it. Wrapping it around myself, I stand up, my legs shaking.

"Emma, wait. Where are you going?" Ares calls after me as I brush past Archer. I pass my mom in the hallway.

"Emma, what-." But I don't hear what else she says, I need to go to my room. I need to be away from them.

My stomach is twisting, and my chest is so tight. My vision blurs as the tears spill over. I can hear the voices in the hall getting louder and louder. My mom is screaming now, I can only make out half of what is said.

"Ares...How could you... wrong... disgusting... family."

I don't even think I'm breathing anymore. How could I let this happen? This is what I wanted to avoid. Now everyone will hate us. They will hate me. I can't handle this.

I sit down on the bed, clutching the blanket around me. My mom already scrutinizes everything I do. This will just be added to the very long list of my wrong-doings that I'm sure she has. I'll never live this down.

I stand and quickly get dressed. I need to go somewhere, anywhere but here.

I hear footsteps coming down the hall, and I know it's her. I hold my breath, waiting for her to open the door. When she does, her eyes are filled with disappointment and anger.

"What the hell were you thinking?" she asks, her voice shrill.

"Mom, please," I plead, my voice trembling.

"Please, what?" she scoffs, her arms crossed over her chest. "Please don't yell at you for fucking your step-uncle? Please don't tell you that you're a stupid little girl who has no idea what she's doing?"

"No, just stop," I cry, the tears falling freely now.

"Stop? No, you stop. You're not a child anymore, Emma. It's time you started acting like an adult. This was completely inappropriate, and I cannot believe you would do something like this. It's disgusting. He's old enough to be your father, for God's sake. He is practically your father's age. What is wrong with you?"

I shake my head, the pain in my chest threatening to overwhelm me. "Please, Mom. I can't do this right now."

"I'm not finished," she snaps, her eyes blazing. "I'm not going to just sit by and let you ruin your life. You need to end this, and you need to do it today. I don't care what he's promised you, Emma. I don't care what he's told you to get you to fuck him. Whatever it is, it's a lie. Men like him don't care about anyone but themselves. He doesn't care about you. If he did, he wouldn't be doing this. I'm telling you, Emma, he's not going to be there for you. He's just using you, and once he's done, he'll toss you aside like a piece of garbage. Do you really want to be known as the slut who fucks her uncle? Is that the kind of life you want for yourself?"

I wince at her harsh words. She has this all wrong.

"He's not using me," I whisper, my voice trembling. "It's not like that."

"Of course it is," she retorts, her tone scathing. "He's twice your age. He's probably just looking for a younger girl to have fun with. Once he's had his fill, he'll move on. And where will that leave you? Alone and used. Do you really want to be that girl, Emma?"

Before I can reply, Ares and Archer enter my room.

"Julie, that's enough," Ares says, his voice firm.

"No, it's not enough," she fires back, her eyes narrowed. "I'm trying to save her from making a huge mistake. And you need to get the fuck out of my house before I call the cops for trespassing."

Ares ignores her threat, his gaze focused on me.

"Are you okay, babygirl?"

"Do not talk to my daughter," Julie seethes, her hands clenched into fists. "She is not your 'babygirl'."

"Actually, she is," he growls, his eyes flashing with anger.

"Like hell she is," Julie snaps, her eyes blazing. "I am her mother, and I have final say over her. You can take your disgusting lies and get the fuck out of my house. Now."

"Mom, stop," I cry, my chest tightening. "Just stop. Please."

"Don't tell me to stop, Emma. I'm doing this for you. Can't you see that?" she demands, her eyes wild.

"Emma, pack a bag. We can both leave," Ares interjects, ignoring my mom.

My mom focuses her gaze back on me. "You will not pack a bag. You are not going anywhere."

"This isn't your decision," Ares counters, his jaw clenched.

"Yes, it is," she fires back, her eyes flashing with anger. "Emma, I am telling you that you will not go anywhere with this man."

My head whips back and forth as they speak, the tension in the room mounting. I feel like I'm going to suffocate.

"Stop," I cry, my voice trembling. "Both of you, stop."

It's like they can't even hear me. They're in each other's faces now, screaming. Archer is trying to push his way in between them, his hands on Ares's chest in a placating motion, but it isn't working. Ares looks like he's ready to punch him.

I can't handle this. The tears start to fall again, and I feel like I'm drowning. I have to get out of here.

I turn and run from the room, down the hall, and out the front door, grabbing my keys on the way.

The fresh air hits me like a slap in the face. I take a deep breath, the cold air burning my lungs.

I can't breathe.

I can't think.

I can't do this.

I climb into my car and start the engine, backing out of the driveway as fast as I can. I toss my phone in the passenger seat.

I have to get out of here.

I have to get away.

As I drive, the tears blur my vision, and I can barely see the road.

My phone is ringing, and I know it's one of them. But I can't answer. I can't do anything but drive.

I have no idea where I'm going, but I have to keep moving.

My mind is racing, and my heart is pounding.

I'm not sure how long I've been driving, but I finally pull into the parking lot of a diner.

Maybe it wasn't the most adult decision to run from an argument like that, but it reminded me of the way my mom and her second husband fought when I was a child. The shouting, the threats. And while, I know Ares would never hit my mom, he certainly looked angry enough to do some damage.

I can't go back. Not right now.

I need some space, and I need time to think.

I'm about to get out of the car when I realize I didn't even put on shoes. I guess I'll stay in my car until I'm ready to go home. My phone still buzzes with calls and texts, but I ignore them.

I lean my head back against the seat and close my eyes, letting the tears flow.

The pain is overwhelming. I feel like I'm going to be sick.

How could we let this happen? How could I let this happen?