Page 51 of Shallow

Cary smirks. “‘It won’t happen again.’ Shiloh West’s famous last words.” He shifts forward, bracing both hands on the outside of my thighs. “The only problem is you seem to like to repeat yourmistakes.”

“Real chivalrous there, Mr.Kincaid.”

He stares at me in silence before darting out his tongue and licking the half-circle of his lip ring. “You want real? Let’s get real. Was the accident really yourfault?”

I groan. “Can we not do thisnow?”

“You owe me that much,Shiloh.”

As much as I don’t want to admit it, he’s right. He gave me two years of his life. I suppose the price of his freedom is a piece of mysoul.

“Yeah.” Slumping into a hunched position, I scrub my palms down my face. “I was high and drunk. I should’ve never beendriving.”

“Sounds familiar.” Cary’s eyes glaze over, and I can see our shared secret reflecting inthem.

“Cary, twice in my life my actions have ruined the lives of two people I cared about. One of them cost the person everything. I’ll never be able to undo that.” Emotion I don’t even know I’m capable of bubbles to the surface, making me stand and pace in front of him. “Coming back here, I’ve learned what it’s like on the other side. WhatIwas like. It’s one of the reasons I can’t look in a mirroranymore.”

“You don’t look in mirrors?” His voice is low with that morning-after hoarseness I imagine hehas.

“I never wanted to be a model, you know,” I answer, ignoring his question as I spiral down into a moment of self-revelation. “It’s just what everyone expected of me. Smiling and posing was all I was ever goodat.”

Apparently fed up with the Shiloh Show, Cary stands, his muscular build towering over me. We’re face to face, his warm breath blowing in my hair. “I always saw more inyou.”

“You may have been the onlyone.”

He reaches to brush the hair off my cheek, then pulls back at the last minute. I can’t blame him. They’re stuck to the puckered hideousness that has become my cross tobear.

“If you could’ve done anything else in the world,” he asks, tilting his chin upward as a lock of onyx hair dusts across his eye, “what would it havebeen?”

It’s a strange question, but I don’t hesitate. “Iceskating.”

Cary arches an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on his lips. “In SouthCarolina?”

I shrug. “Youasked.”

“Why?”

Because it’s the winter to my summer. It’s the ice to the heat of thespotlight.

I think for a moment, and answer from what’s left of my soul. “It's graceful. It takes skill. It’s pretty and people respect it. I would likethat.”

I suppose my honesty surprises him. I know it’s the last thing he expects to hear. However, I don’t get the opportunity to try to explain. As if emotionally sobered by my confession, his fingers rub against his bottom lip and he paces thering.

“I think you shouldgo.”

“How?” I ask, a little irritated at his sudden shift in temperament. “You expect me to walk across townagain?”

He ignores my comment with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Call your driver. That’s what you pay him for, isn’tit?”

“They stole myphone.”

“Usemine.”

I tilt my head to the side and give him an arrogant smirk. “What about my legal obligations to clean this hell hole? You know, now that I’m the Cinderella to your WickedStepbrother?”

“Let’s get one thing straight,” he laughs, jumping out of the ring, “I'm not your fuckingstepbrother.”

“Then what are you?” I counter, cocking ahip.