Chapter 2

Less than two minutes after we hung up, Ryan transferred me 33 grand.

His message read: [Hush money. Don't tell Mom and Dad, please. I'm begging you.]

I stared at the transfer notification and silently tapped to accept it.

Fine, I'll let him off the hook for now, for the money's sake.

Then he sent another message: [I'm sending you Ethan's contact. Add him and send your location. He'll come pick you up right away.]

I copied the info and sent him a friend request.

He accepted almost instantly.

I sent him my airport location, hesitated for a second, then typed: [Sorry to trouble you.]

Ethan's reply was short and to the point: [Okay.]

No nonsense, simply straight to the point.

I put my phone away and leaned against the cold wall. For some reason, I felt uneasy.

Honestly, I wasn't too keen on Ethan coming to pick me up.

It wasn't that I disliked him. In fact, he was the most impressive and clean-cut guy I'd ever met.

But that's exactly why I felt so nervous.

Back in high school, he was always in the spotlight, and I was practically invisible. Whenever I saw him and Ryan together from a distance, I'd instinctively hide.

We'd never even talked one-on-one, not even a proper hello.

Now, having him drive out to the airport in the middle of the night to pick me up was all because I'm Ryan's little sister. It was so weird.

But I couldn't get a cab, it was freezing outside, and I was too scared to be alone. I really had no choice but to accept.

I squatted on the floor, bored out of my mind, and opened up Candy Crush to kill time.

Cold wind kept blowing in from the entrance, whipping my hair all over the place. My fingers were so frozen I could barely control them, and I kept messing up every round.

About forty minutes later, a deep voice called out from above me.

"Stella?" Ethan said.

I looked up suddenly.

A white Porsche pulled up in front of me, and the window slowly rolled down.

Ethan sat in the driver's seat, looking down at me slightly, his lips curled into a faint smile.

The warm yellow streetlights washed over him, softening his outline and making him look almost gentle.

Seven years had passed since I last saw him, and all that teenage awkwardness was gone. Now, he had this calm, almost regal vibe, like a man who knew exactly who he was.

His perfectly tailored black coat made him look even taller and more striking. His skin was pale and cool, and his features were so flawless it was almost unreal.

I froze, totally mesmerized.

Suddenly, that old line from our high school forum popped into my head. His face was straight-up lethal. Seriously, no exaggeration.

Seeing me dazed, Ethan asked softly, "Have your legs gone numb from squatting so long?"

I snapped back to reality and scrambled to my feet, but I moved too fast and my vision went black for a second. I almost lost my balance.

Ethan was quick to catch me, his fingers brushing against my arm. The warmth of his touch instantly sent a wave of heat through my skin.

I jerked my arm back like I'd been burned, my face burning up uncontrollably.

Ugh, there goes my social life. I'm dying of cringe again.

I opened my mouth to greet him, but totally blanked on how to address him.

Calling him Ethan felt too blunt, not polite enough.

Calling him "Mr. Brooks" was way too formal and distant.

Calling him "big bro"?

Oh, come on, I don't even call my own brother that. Saying it to him would totally kill me.