Hi! Just wanted to say I'm excited for you guys. I'm happy y'all exist. And thank you so much for coming this far, for reading up to this point, and for voting.

Love,
This grateful author.

Paris could hardly believe he'd convinced Shanya to come along. She'd been so mad at him he'd thought she was going to spit on his face for even daring to offer. But he couldn't take all the credit. If Lily hadn't agreed to cancel her date with Shanya when he'd called and asked her to, they wouldn't be here right now. And luckily for him, she hadn't needed much convincing when he'd revealed to her that he wanted to take Shanya on a special date. Lily had started from a doubtful "like a real date?" to "about damn time! I'll make myself scarce."

He tried to ignore the soft brush of Shanya's thighs against his and her warm feminine hands pressed tightly around his chest as he focused on the road, navigating it slowly and smoothly so as not to spook her. But he wasn't sure he'd achieved that because she was holding unto him so tightly he was sure there would be gruesome bruises on his torso.

Struggling to take in long breaths, he relished in the fervent wind that blew around them. Riding had always been a special sort of joy for him since he'd gotten his first motorcycle at fifteen—to his mother's utter chagrin. It had taken a while but she'd soon come to terms with his choice of locomotive.

Heather, on the other hand, was the exception. Her soul was wild and free, so motorcycle rides fed into that spirit. That was probably one thing that attracted them to each other. That, and the fact that they had a lot in common.

A dull ache settled in the pit of his stomach, an all too familiar ache he'd been assaulted with lately. Guilt. He felt guilty for cheating on Heather as he rode for the date he had with Shanya. They may not have done anything but kiss but this was cheating. He was cheating. On the first woman he'd given his heart to.

But whenever he saw Shanya, his view on Heather completely changed. It was like he didn't even know who his girlfriend was anymore. It hurt him, but it felt so good at the same time.

Shanya shrieked just then and he realized he'd been speeding. Immediately, he slowed down, shouting his apologies. He didn't look back to catch a glimpse of her face, but he knew she was shooting daggars at his back.

They finally came to a stop at the dock. Shanya bolted off the cycle and ran to the nearest bank of grass as Paris frowned at her in confusion. But then she bent over and started hurling her guts out. She heaved, and heaved, and heaved. Each heave more nerve-wracking than the last.

Cursing himself silently for not anticipating this sooner, he ran to her, placing his hands on her back and soothing it. He didn't dare say anything. He simply stood silently as her shoulders shook at the force of each wave. The sound gutted him, but he kept stroking her back with ease. Was this how it was like when she went for her driving lessons?

He should never have forced her to learn how to drive. He'd been an insensitive, self-righteous bastard.

Slowly, the heaving stopped, but she remained bent over, inhaling and exhaling while he continued rubbing her back gently. They were like that for over a minute.

Then she spat out the remnants, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and turned to him. Her face looked drained of color, her eyes tinged with tears, and her popping veins made his face etch with worry.

But she only looked about her. "I hope one of these boats is yours cause I just hurled out my meal and I'd like to get a refill."

He smiled despite himself, relief glazing over in the very pits of his stomach as he lifted his hands to wipe her tear-stained face. To his surprise, she let him.

"One of these boats is, in fact, mine."

"Which one?"

"That one." He pointed to the white Sea Ray 550 Sedan bridge boat that looked like it had come straight out of a movie as the sail hung loosely to the deck. His eyes filled with warmth at the sight of it, never once feeling anything else since he'd first purchased it. This white beauty was his place of solitude away from the world, where he'd come when he needed to get away from everyone and everything. There was something unimaginably calming about the sea, even more so when he drifted upon it with his boat. He'd never brought anyone here. Never shown it to anyone. Not even Heather.

He closed his mind to the image of her even as his heart seized with guilt.

However, one look at Shanya made that feeling dull to a beat. She was gaping at his boat. The wonderful expression in her eyes glimmering each time she blinked. He would never get over this particular expression of hers.

As he helped her onto the boat, lights streaming in from the bulbs in the hull, he sat on the brown leather sofa and watched her silently as she drank in every dimension of the inner decor. She wandered around, her inquisitive hands touching everything it could get its skin on. Confusion settled on her features as she skimmed the steering mechanisms. When she gripped the helm, she let out a joyous laugh.

"I've never been on a boat before!"

He'd figured as much but remained silent, watching her expression as it changed from awe to serenity to pure bliss. At one point, she even shrieked.

Her dad had been an architect he recalled, it was no wonder she had a love of designs. He suspected it was also a way she felt connected with him.

His boat was magical, but Shanya's presence on it made it even more so.

When she finally sat, he noticed that the color had returned to her cheeks. Satisfied and maybe a little prideful, he handed her a blue parcel tied with red ribbons. "This is for you."

She raised her eyebrows and took the parcel, shaking it. "What's in it?"

He shrugged while she removed the ribbons, then tore at the wrappings. He nearly laughed out loud at her eagerness.

Two large brown boxes dropped on her lap and she squealed, "Candies!"

She ripped the first box apart and the delicious goodies fell on the table. "I thought you didn't encourage sugar," she teased, her eyes dancing with joy even as he watched her tear open about six candies and pop all of them into her mouth.

"I don't. But candies are a delicacy one should indulge in once in a while if they can." He eyed her as she popped more candies into her mouth. "Easy there, would hate for you to vomit all over my beautiful boat."

She laughed, and Paris snickered. Good God, her teeth were stained bright red. "So you're more concerned about your boat getting soiled than you are about a sick lady. Chivalry really is dead."

He relaxed back into his seat, certain his growing amusement was evident on his features. "And I don't see a lady."

She hurled a candy at him, but he dodged it swiftly and it went flying behind him.

"Bring it back. I'm not losing one precious candy just because you're an ass."

He obeyed and handed it to her. She wasted no time to rip it apart and throw it in into her mouth.

"See? No lady, " he continued, "Just a candy-obsessed little child."

She shook her head at him and threw three more candies into her mouth. Then she reached for the square-shaped second box with the Belgian chocolates and her face contorted into the purest form of delight. Paris had never seen someone so full of glee because of something as trivial as chocolates.

She took two love-shaped chocolates and plopped them into her mouth, the candy still in it.

He grimaced. "You're gonna get sick."

"Maybe," she teased with a teeth-stained smile, her mouth full of the goodies, "But I'll be happily sick."

The silly look on her face made his body rack with laughter.

"Happy Birthday, Sugar-junky."

* * * *

After eating almost all the candies and chocolates, Shanya was feeling queasy. She probably should've listened to Paris and eaten only a little, but it was already too late. Besides, she couldn't stop herself. She hadn't had those wonderful goodies in a long time. And he bought all her favorites! Gummies, coffee-rio, caramel crunch, squirrel nut caramels, candy buttons, candy cane, snickers, dairy milk, jolly rancher, twizzlers, mars, chupa chups, peach blossoms, cotton candy...

It was like heaven on earth and she would probably never tell him but it was the sweetest gift she'd ever had. Literally and figuratively. And the boat. She had no words. Somewhere in her heart expanded a little more every time their eyes caught each other.

With a sigh, she looked over at the ocean, breathing in its poignant salty air, the wind cascading about her, slowly easing away her nausea while the sea rocked Paris's gorgeous boat ever so gently. The candies and chocolates had been divine, but now she'd have to leave with the consequences—queasiness and a very red-stained teeth.

It was night. Paris had gone inside seconds ago to get them a drink and she was more than satisfied standing where she was, gazing at the sea. There was something so calming about it, so stable. Wrought with all sorts of danger no doubt but also, homely. She didn't understand how Paris hadn't just turned this boat into a house and simply stayed out here forever.

"Lily says have fun," Paris said from behind her. She turned around to see him holding up her phone, champagne under his armpit and two glasses in his other hand.

"Don't read my messages," she warned as she snatched her phone from him, glaring at him for added emphasis.

"It's not my fault, it was right there on the screen."

"Snoop," was all she said as she read the message from Lily. It had been sent a few hours ago, probably when she'd been riding on that monstrous motorcycle.

Paris stood beside her, a half smile on his handsome face. He poured some champagne in a glass for her before pouring some for himself.

"What's she like? Haven't been introduced."

"And thank God for that. Lily doesn't have normal human emotions like the rest of us."

Paris laughed and shook his head. "Some friend you are."

She gave him a smug shrug and drank her champagne, letting the delicious juice wash away the red stain on her teeth. At least she hoped it would. Looking like a deranged toddler was not the look any girl would want to go for when they were on a freaking boat with a handsome man.

"Anything happening between Lily and Travis that I should know about?"

The question was so unexpected that she choked on her drink. With a small, subtle rinse, she spat the content out into the sea and turned around, staring at him.

He shrugged. "I saw them dancing at our engagement party. Intimately."

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and took another drink, swallowing it this time. She'll just have to hope her teeth were back to their normal white color.

"I don't know, he's your employee."

"She's your best friend."

Shanya gave him a squared, contemplative look. She hadn't been the only one who had observed the searing chemistry between Travis and Lily. Shocking. "I'm surprised you noticed."

His scoff was defensive. "I'm not completely self-absorbed you know."

"Ha."

He shook his head. "Well, whatever those two are up to, I have a feeling we'd be better off not knowing."

She didn't agree, but said nothing. Simply liking how nice it was to just talk to him.

"Your brother..." Paris went on, " I sensed some tension. What's the deal with you two?"

Scratch that. Not nice at all.

She tilted her head. "Can we just say it's no coincidence that brother and bother are one letter apart and leave it at that?"

He grinned. "Purity would agree. I, on the other hand, would fish for more details."

She brought her head back to the right angle. "Fine. But first, tell me what you and my brother were giggling about earlier."

He chuckled. "Oh, that? It was nothing, really."

"Right."

"I'm serious. We were talking about a difficult client he's dealing with. He was making jokes about the man's fanatical beliefs."

Shanya choked. "Chicago? Making jokes?"

"He's really not as bad as you make him out to be."

If Shanya hadn't feared being thrown in jail, she'd have broken her champagne glass on his head for saying something so naive.

"Clearly, you haven't spent enough time with him. Chi thinks I'm immature and incapable of taking care of myself. That I attract disaster wherever I go. I hate that he keeps trying to control my life. Both him and mum. My dad... he- he used to let me do whatever I wanted. I'm not used to having to... live by anyone else's rules. So when my mum and brother refused to give me my inheritance especially after the scandal my mum caused, I wanted to be independent." She sighed. "I think Chicago's just worried about me, will always be worried and I can't help him with that, you know?"

Paris smiled slowly, his expression unreadable. Being the big brother to someone like Purity, she knew without having to ask that Chicago had it better.

"Nobody is independent, that's just the biggest myth out there. We all depend on someone or something."

The corners of her mouth rose up slightly. "You know, Paris, that must be the wisest thing you've said since I met you."

He scoffed, resting his arms against the railing of the boat as the cool ocean breeze whispered like a lover around them. "I was always wise. You've just failed to notice."

A thought suddenly struck her. One she'd been meaning to ask him for a long time but it never seemed like the right moment. This was probably not the right moment either, but she needed to know.

"The feud between your family and Heather's, it has to do with your parents, right?"

Paris seemed taken aback by her question so she added, "Your dad mentioned being engaged to someone before he met your mum while we were dancing. It wasn't hard to piece things together after that."

He gave her a small nod, dark shadows crossing his eyes. She could tell that what he was about to reveal was an old wound, always being reopened and bleeding, deep in its intensity and deeper in the wake it left.

"Her name was Elaine Stone, Heather's aunt. They were in love, Elaine was pregnant and they were going to be wed within a week. But my granddad was a bit of a rake and caused a rival party to lose a great deal of money. At that time, wealth hadn't really come into my family so there was no money to pay up what my granddad lost. And according to the rival party's traditions, the only other way to settle the debt was to get their children to marry each other."

"Sounds very 1970."

"Yeah, probably how deep that tradition was rooted. Long story short, my dad had to choose between saving his family and running off with the woman he loved. He chose his family. A few weeks later, Elaine had an abortion and died during the process. The Stones and the Bodens have been at each other's throat ever since."

It had ended well for Wyatt obviously, he was completely besotted with Miranda—but it hadn't ended well for his son and the woman he was in love with.

"Wasn't there anything else that could've been done? Working off the debt in the rival party's company, for instance."

"Even if that were on the table, my grandfather would never have gone for it. He was a prideful man. Besides, marrying into my mum's wealthy family was a much more lucrative investment."

"And your dad? You said he loved Elaine. Couldn't he have worked off the debt in his father's place?"

"No. My grandfather lost their money, it was him alone who should've had to work off the debt."

"Then he alone should've married your mother."

Paris made a disgusted face that would have made her laugh if this wasn't so serious.

"He was already married to my grandmother. There's the matter of bigamy and its illegality. Also, that's gross to think about."

She ignored that last bit. It was obvious whose family was in the wrong all those years ago but she wasn't about to add insult to injury.

"Did anyone try to patch things up?"

Paris turned his back to the sea looking towards the boat the same way she was doing. "My dad tried. Elaine's brother, Jacob Stone who is Heather's father, burnt down two of our warehouses as a warning. My dad swore off any form of reconciliation after that. I'm afraid in this case, it's the sins of the father kind of logic that applies."

In that moment, Shanya truly understood Heather's plight. It was unfair to be ripped away from someone you loved because of unfortunate circumstances that you didn't cause—circumstances that happened long before you were born. No wonder she'd been so desperate for a plan. No wonder she'd reacted the way she did when she'd seen them kissing. She'd assumed history was about to repeat itself. And Paris... his dad had done everything, even forsaken his love to keep his family safe. He must feel such guilt for putting that in jeopardy, must have this great sense of duty to keep the peace.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, meaning it.

He levied from his leaning position and faced her. "Don't be."

Shanya tried not to get sucked in his soul-searching grey gaze as her hands turned clammy, even with the chilly wind. She noticed the shift in his mood immediately. Hers too as his hand came up to her cheeks, holding them tenderly.

"Wood... I can't stop thinking about the kiss we shared. It's grown a life of its own inside my head."

His hot breath fanned her face and Shanya needed a full minute to reign in her thoughts, reminding herself of all the ways this was wrong. "You have a girlfriend, whom you love. We can be nothing but friends."

He grimaced, resting his temple on hers and shutting his eyes. When he lifted his head up, those two grey pools were full of pain and affection at the same time. "I admit I still have feelings for Heather. Still care deeply for her."
She tried not to flinch at the pain the words inflicted. "I- I don't want to hurt her. I never meant to have these feelings for you, but I do. God help me, I do."

He inhaled sharply and paused. "I don't want to choose. I don't know if I can choose."

There it was. The sentence she'd been dreading. The sentence she'd spent countless nights trying to carve out of her mind. He'd finally said it. And it hurt deeper than she'd ever thought possible. She'd thought she'd gone through the worst level of hurt when she'd found out about Gabe and Nala. But clearly, she'd been decieving herself.

This was infinitely worse.

His hands were sliding up and down her cheeks caressingly and she could have sworn his eyes were moist with tears as he held her gaze. "I think of you all the time, whether we're apart or not. I want to spend time with you everyday, even when you're grumpy, and mean, and insult me with words that could make an elephant blush."

She scoffed softly at that before she could stop herself. He came closer still, until they were sharing the same breath. His eyes had darkened over with what she could only call an unending agony. "I want to hear you laugh, I want to hear your squeal of joy when something fascinates you. Your dimpled smile... I want it to be just for me. And I know I have no right to want that. I know I have no right to want any of it. But the more I resist, the deeper I get sucked in."

She bit her lip. A part of her was hanging on to every word like they were the lyrics to her favourite song. But the other part was hurt and mad. Because on the one hand, here he was, declaring his affection for her and on the other, he would risk the wrath of his family (and Heather's) so he could be with his redhead girlfriend. Not to mention she had a problem with him being in love or whatever it was he felt for her, with two women. That only made him a what? A letch, a gigolo, a jerk?

He knew Heather longer and he did love her, she'd seen it with her own eyes. Had a damn front row seat. And he'd just said he couldn't choose. So what exactly did he want to do? Date them both? Play both sides?

Before she could give a scathing reply, Paris held her waist and pushed her against the gunnel, his lips still mere inches away from hers. "If you do that again, I'll have no choice but to kiss you."

Shanya had no idea what he was talking about, but the look he was giving her caused her anger to rise up ten notches. "You're not quite the kisser you think you are, you know."

He lifted his brows. "Really?"

"Yup. That kiss we shared? It wasn't that great."

This time, he blinked and removed his hands from around her waist, folding it against his chest. She revelled in the triumph that rose up within her. He was probably wondering how he could have shared an ah-maz-ing kiss with her and she hadn't felt the same. It was a ball-faced lie, but he didn't need to know that.

A physical encounter could feel different to everyone involved, and those feelings were valid. He didn't get to dictate what kind of kiss it was. And even though she'd given as much as she'd gotten, there was a possibility that she hadn't liked it and had, in fact, faked the whole damn thing.

And that would get under anyone's skin in a monumental capacity.

"Maybe your head wasn't in the game. I caught you off guard. Admit it's a possibility."

She squared her shoulders and forced her expression to remain neutral. "Admit you're just not that great of a kisser."

He scoffed, leaning in, trying to read deeper into her expression as his breath sent tingles down her neck. "I'm not buying this. I'm an excellent kisser and you know it. People used to pay good money at my high school just to kiss me."

"My God, you have an ego the size of Madagascar."

He brought himself dangerously closer to her, this time, their lips lightly grazed each other. "Are you saying that if I kiss you right now, your body won't react to it at all?"

Crap.

There was no way he wouldn't see right through that lie.

Paris smiled knowingly as amusement returned to his grey eyes, boring heat into hers. "Silence is an answer, Sweetheart."

He skimmed his hands lightly up and down her arms, his touch sending chills down her spine. "Kiss me, Shanya. I want you to kiss me."

Shanya didn't know what prompted her, whether it was because he had actually called her Shanya for the first time since they'd met or the fact that her name rolled so easily off his lips, beckoning her, enticing her, as if they were meant for his mouth alone. But she hesitated for a millisecond. She shouldn't do this, they were alone in a boat. There was only so much temptation she could handle—

"Shay..."

And that was all it took before she flung her arms around his neck and crushed her mouth against his.

A/n: Oof. Self control is really such a rare virtue, am I right?
Before you run off, a quick vote please:-)

P.s: What are your personal thoughts concerning the feud?