Just Let Me Love You (Judge Me Not #3)(62)

So, yeah, I’m into him. It’s mostly a secret, though. However, I must confess that once, several months ago, Haven caught me uploading pictures of Farren from her computer to my phone.

“Cyberstalking my brother, I see,” she teased as she walked over to where I was seated—rather uneasily at that point—on the sofa in our living room, her laptop in my hands.

“No, no,” I stammered while trying to close all the open windows…of Farren in uniform, Farren standing next to Haven, and Farren—a recent shot—in a finely tailored suit.

“He does look good in that one,” she said, tapping the screen before the picture of her brother in a dark suit disappeared.

She was right. Farren in a business suit was all kinds of serious hot, so I had to agree. Then, I turned from the computer and asked, “Does he have to wear suits for his new job?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, Essa. I guess.”

“What exactly is his new job?” I pressed. “You said he’s some kind of personal security contractor, right? What does that mean, exactly?”

“I don’t really know,” Haven admitted. Then, with a laugh, she said, “All I know is whatever Farren does he gets paid a lot of money.”

“I hope it’s nothing illegal,” I mumbled under my breath.

Hey, it’s not so farfetched to think such a thing. Not only does Farren fund his sister’s college education—as well as all her expenses—but he also has plenty of money for himself. He owns some of the best real estate in the world, including a luxurious New York City apartment. The place is sweet, very sweet, located on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, in a high-rise building right next to Central Park. I’ve seen pictures, and it looks like the kind of place a celebrity would live in. Not that I care about the money Farren has, but the fact that he has so much of it does make me curious.

See, Farren and Haven Shaw were not born into any kind of money, not like the level of wealth Farren currently possesses. Their childhood circumstances were far from ideal and not anywhere near upscale. Their dad, a man named Alan Shaw, disappeared, seemingly into thin air, when they were very young. At the time, Farren was ten and Haven was only three. Their mom was left to struggle on her own to support her two young children. And she was doing okay, until she was killed in a car crash. Seventeen-year-old Farren and ten-year-old Haven were sent to live with their aunt—someone who absolutely did not want the burden of her sister’s kids. Her aunt was cold and indifferent. Haven has said many times that her aunt was far from nice. That’s why Farren joined the army the day he turned eighteen. He left and started sending Haven money right away. Their aunt was always cheap with them, buying the kids only the bare essentials. Despite all of those things, to this day, Haven still craves family. She tries so hard to maintain a relationship with her aunt. But the woman rarely—if ever—returns Haven’s calls.

My phone vibrates, bringing me back to the present. It’s another text from Haven.

Where are you? You better get your ass home soon. We’re still going out tonight, right?

Of course, I type back. I haven’t forgotten that we’re celebrating the fact we survived our third year of college.

We did, didn’t we?

Hell, yeah, I type back. Seniors next year. Woohoo.

I’ll drink to that, Haven replies.

Me, too.

Hey, by the way, I hope you’re planning on having more than two beers tonight. Rules are out the window.

Ha-ha. And, yes, rules are out the window.

Good, she texts. Who knows, Essa, maybe you’ll get so loosened up that you’ll end up meeting your fantasy man.

If only she knew it’s her brother who stars in my fantasies. Just thinking about the man—and he is a man, not some fumbling college boy—gets me all worked up. But it’s ridiculous to continue on like this. I’ll surely never meet Farren, seeing as New York City is off the table.

Resigned to live my parent-directed life, which certainly does not include hot guys, I push all thoughts of my secret fantasy, Farren Shaw, to the back of my mind. Gathering up my purse, I stand. But before I leave, I think about the lecture I listened in on.

Fate…

Destiny…

What’s in store for me? Where will these so-called predetermined events lead me? Somewhere, everywhere, nowhere. The possibilities are endless. Still, I have to wonder if there will ever be an inevitable detour in my life.

“Yeah, right,” I quietly scoff. The only inevitability in my future is that my life will continue as planned. But the instructor’s words resonate in my head, reminding me that we can’t escape our destiny and that we always end up where we’re supposed to be.

Of course, for that to happen, it may require a bit more defiance on my part. Particularly when it comes to my parents and where they expect me to spend this summer.

Good, okay. That’s fine with me.

’Cause I think I’m finally ready to start pressing B every chance I get.