Page 214 of Sinful Like Us

But Ben is looking at his empty plate. He’s grinding down on his teeth and trying to stop himself from crying.

“You can hate me,” I say with severity. “I don’t need you to like me right now. Or a year from now or ten years. Just when you’re ready, I hope you can give me a chance.”

Ben slowly takes a seat. And quietly, he says, “You’re here. This is your chance.”

Tonight.

Don’t fucking nuke it.

I lower back down, a hand to my breast pocket (to the kitten), and Jane leans into my shoulder. “He’s going to warm up to you.”

It’s weird to think that I know it’s okay if he doesn’t.

Charlie rests his ass on the edge of the table. Turned towards me, he hoists a single lion-decaled card between two fingers. “Here’s your last one.”

My last one.

That hits me hard. For a long time, I thought this game might be never-ending. That they’d keep filling up the deck every time it got low.

It’s over.

Almost.

He stretches and passes me the card.

I take it from Charlie and flip it over. Words stare back at me. I read them.

And reread them.

Five times to make sure I’m reading it right.

Tom grins sitting on the top of his chair, his black trench coat long enough to sweep the floor—a thousand-and-fucking-one patches sewn crudely in the fabric. He opens and closes a Zippo lighter.

He knows what this says. All her brothers and her sister do.

They were all in on the game. Not just Charlie.

I read out loud, “‘Tell us why you belong in the family without referencing Jane.’”

It might be the hardest thing this game has ever thrown my way.

Jane is the reason I am sitting at this table, but she’s not going to be the reason I fit into this family. I have to do that on my own.

Weighing my words, I glance between each of her siblings. All six are so different from the next. Years ago, I think I would’ve said I fit in better with the Hales, or even the Meadows, but there’s not a shred of doubt now.

I’m where I’m supposed to be. I just have to find a way to articulate it.

I’m quiet for a beat, and Beckett meets my gaze. Dark brown hair slicked back and in a casual white crewneck, he takes a drag of a cigarette between leather-gloved fingers.

“You have to answer,” Beckett says kindly. No hint of animosity or resentment in his voice. Even after he came home to find his role replaced inCinderellaby Leo Valavanis. But according to Jane, the company is starting to audition parts for next season’s production ofRomeo & Juliet.

Beckett is in contention for Romeo.And so is Leo.

You have to answer.

I nod strongly. “I know.” And I drop my arm from Jane’s chair, and with zero doubt, zero hesitation, I stand.

Not afraid to tower.