She pulls my face down for a kiss, and a grunt escapes my lips as her legs squeeze my hips tighter. Our foreheads touch, our heavy breaths meeting in the space between our lips.

When I feel her pulsing with pleasure, I watch her face as the ecstasy rolls through her. It’s so fucking exquisite that it slams me headfirst into my orgasm.

“I love you,” she says against my mouth as I lose the strength to hold my body above hers and crash safely between her legs.

My mind reels from her words. It’s ridiculous and impossible. She can’t love me. Not me, and not after only one week.

But it doesn’t change the fact that I feel the same way. I love her in a way that is dangerous and fucking mind-blowing. I love her in the same way sirens pull men to their deaths. I know it will kill me, but I don’t care. I would gladly give my life to whisper those words back to her.

“I love you so fucking much.”

My nerves are on edge. In two hours, I’ll be handing the money over to Hale and will be officially done with his bullshit. I’ll be free. To what? I don’t know. Sierra tells me what her parents did to her last night, and I’m sick. No fucking way my girl deserves to be treated like that. It takes everything in me not to go over there myself and give those fucks a piece of my mind. But she made me promise. And I’ll never break a promise to her.

Neither of us want to leave this apartment. Today is officially Sierra’s last day on Wickett. Once I get this drop-off taken care of, she has to go. The air in the apartment is tense and just fucking sad. I can’t take my hands off of her body, like if I let her go for one second, she’ll disappear.

I don’t know if the fact that we used up the rest of my condoms after breakfast makes it better or worse.

Before we know it, it’s time to meet Hale. She stares at me, teary-eyed from the bed as I put on my leather jacket. I can see the goodbye on her lips, and it’s fucking crushing me.

“Logan,” she breathes. “About the drop-off…”

“I’ll be fine,” I say, but I can’t promise it’s true. Hale could have who-knows-what up his sleeve and to be totally fucking honest, I’m nervous. But I can’t tell her that.

“I have to go.” Her voice is so small from the bed, curled up in the shirt and skirt she wore over here last night.

Her words sting. I know she’ll go. Not just to her parents, but back to her life. The beautiful, scarless pure life she lives in Newport. It stings that she doesn’t want to see this part. The end. Or is it the beginning?

“Logan, I have to go to the drop-off.”

“No, baby.” I walk up to her and place my hands over her cheeks. “You can’t be there. Who the fuck knows what’s going to go down? I can’t put you in danger.”