Chapter 3

Brody's honey eyes flashed with something akin to jealousy. "He might have been bragging, but he clearly didn't appreciate what he had. He certainly didn't deserve you, Allyson. I can promise you, I'll do better."

I gave him a noncommittal hum, my thoughts still snagged on the silver pendant and the wooden bird. His certainty was appealing, but also a little unnerving. I knew his game, and I was playing along, yet sometimes his conviction felt too real.

We walked aimlessly for a while, the evening breeze ruffling my hair. We passed a small carnival setup, complete with flashing lights and the distant, tinny music of a merry-go-round.

"Look!" Brody exclaimed, his adult veneer momentarily dissolving into boyish delight. He pointed to a shooting gallery. "I'm a crack shot. I'll win you something."

He was already pulling me towards it, his enthusiasm infectious. My heart gave a little flutter. Edward would have walked right past, maybe commented on the inefficiency of carnie games as an investment.

"You really don't have to," I said, but a part of me, a small, neglected part, wanted him to.

He ignored me, already handing over a crisp bill to the tattooed attendant. "Pick your prize, Allyson. Anything you want."

I watched him, a strange mix of apprehension and genuine curiosity coiling in my stomach. He was so focused, his brow furrowed in concentration as he aimed the rifle. A thrill, unexpected and potent, shot through me. This was new. This felt different.

"Be careful," I warned, a sudden image of something going wrong flashing in my mind.

He was too engrossed, too intent on hitting the target, to hear me. He fired, and a plastic duck toppled over. He let out a whoop of victory, then turned to me, his face alight with pride.

"See? Thought I lost my touch. What do you want, Allyson? The giant teddy bear? The ridiculous oversized banana?"

I smiled, shaking my head. "Just pick something small. Anything."

He chose a fluffy, bright blue stuffed animal, a caricature of a monster with one large eye. He presented it to me with a flourish.

"Here you go," he said, puffing out his chest. "My winnings. For you. You know, I could probably buy all these prizes if I wanted to, but there' s no fun in that. The chase, the effort, that's what makes it worthwhile."

Time seemed to melt into a blur of laughter and easy conversation with Brody. He showed me a side of the city I'd never seen, took me to hole-in-the-wall restaurants, and even convinced me to try a ridiculously spicy street food that left my mouth burning but my spirit exhilarated.

In the weeks that followed, Brody became a constant, bright presence. He listened. Really listened. He remembered details I' d casually mentioned months ago. He brought me my favorite coffee when he knew I had an early start. He championed my ideas at work, pushing me to apply for a specialized training program that Edward would have seen as a distraction.

And I got in. The acceptance letter arrived on a Tuesday, a rainy, miserable Tuesday.

I was soaked to the bone, getting out of a cab, when I saw him. Brody, standing under the awning of my apartment building, clutching a dripping umbrella. He was soaked too, his hair plastered to his forehead.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice a little breathless.

He grinned, a flash of white in the gloom. "I knew you'd get it. Had a feeling. Wanted to be here when you got the news." He held out a small, meticulously wrapped package. "Celebration gift."

Inside was a delicate, handcrafted wooden bird, similar to the one he'd won for me at the carnival, but this one was painted in vibrant blues and greens, like a hummingbird.

"Allyson, this is beautiful," I said, genuinely touched. "But you shouldn't have."

"Nonsense," he said, his eyes shining. "You deserve nice things. Thoughtful things. Things that show someone actually sees you." He leaned in, his voice dropping. "It's what I do best. Unlike some people."

His competitive streak was still there, but it was interwoven with something else now, something warmer.

"I actually made you something too," I confessed, suddenly shy. I reached into my purse and pulled out a small, intricately folded origami crane. It wasn't much, but I'd spent hours on it, choosing the paper, perfecting the folds.

Brody took it from me like it was made of solid gold. His eyes widened, and a genuine, unselfconscious smile spread across his face. "You made this? For me?" He looked so genuinely thrilled, it melted something tight inside me. "Allyson, this is incredible. No one has ever made me anything."

"It's just paper," I mumbled, suddenly embarrassed by its simplicity.

"It's not 'just paper'," he corrected, his voice firm. "It's from you. It's thoughtful. It's personal." He carefully tucked it into his jacket pocket, right over his heart. "This is staying right here."

A week later, he invited me to a tech gala. "It's huge," he said. "All the big players will be there. Edward included." His eyes held that familiar glint of strategic mischief.

"Okay," I said, a shrug escaping me. I found myself looking forward to it, not for the drama, but for the chance to spend another evening with Brody.

We arrived at the glittering ballroom, a symphony of chandeliers and hushed conversations. I'd opted for a simple, elegant black dress, wanting to avoid any unnecessary attention. Brody, as always, was impeccably dressed, a vision in a tailored suit.

He held my hand as we navigated the throng, introducing me to people with genuine pride. I felt a sense of belonging I hadn't realized I was missing. We found a quiet corner near the buffet. I picked up a delicate pastry, taking a bite. It was sweet, with a hint of citrus.

"Try this," I said, holding out a piece to Brody. He leaned in, taking it from my fingers, his lips brushing against mine for a fleeting second. A spark, small but distinct, ignited.

It was then that I saw him. Edward Atkins. He stood near the entrance, a commanding presence even amidst the glittering crowd. And beside him, laughing, her arm linked through his, was Jeannette Slater. The Jeannette Slater.

My breath hitched. Edward' s high school crush, the one he' d idealized for years. The one I knew he' d never truly gotten over. She was even more stunning in person, a vibrant, vivacious woman with a cascade of blonde hair and a dazzling smile.

Edward' s eyes, cold and sharp as ever, swept across the room. And then they landed on me.

His gaze locked with mine, a flicker of surprise, then something else I couldn't quite decipher. Recognition. A jolt went through me, an unpleasant electric shock.

Brody, feeling the sudden tension in my hand, looked up. He followed my gaze. His eyes narrowed.

"Well, well, well," Brody purred, a predatory smile spreading across his face. "Speak of the devil." He squeezed my hand, then pulled me closer, wrapping an arm possessively around my waist. He leaned down, his lips brushing my ear, his voice low and dangerous. "Let's make this worthwhile, shall we?"

I knew what he was doing. I knew his objective. And yet, I didn't pull away. I just watched Edward, his eyes boring into me, and thought, He won't care. He never did.

But Edward's gaze didn't waver. It lingered, sharp and intense, not on Brody's arm, but on me. And for some reason, that made my skin prickle. Not with fear, but with an unfamiliar unease.