Faked Disappearance, Real Love's End

Holly Baxter's POV

I changed my plans. I didn't go to the police; instead, I walked to a convenience store and bought gummy bears and soda. I deserved good things, some pure comfort, not something wrapped in deceit.

I would act like nothing happened.

When I finally got home, the lights were off. Keegan usually left a lamp on. I slipped off my shoes—suddenly, a pair of strong arms wrapped around me from behind. The familiar scent of cologne.

My body stiffened.

"Keegan? Have you been drinking tonight?"

He let out a low hum, resting his chin on my shoulder.

"Holly, where have you been all day? I called you, why didn't you answer?"

I forced myself to relax. "Sorry, I had my phone on silent."

He turned me around. "Any news? About Beckham?"

I lowered my eyes. "No, nothing. Still no news."

He pulled me closer, burying his face in my hair.

Too close. This wasn't how friends hugged.

Then, the tip of his tongue lightly brushed against my earlobe.

Keegan Carlson. The man Beckham had assigned to "calm" me down.

While Beckham was "away," he played the role of the considerate friend.

Beckham was likely completely oblivious to Keegan's true intentions. He thought Keegan was just a loyal buddy, dutifully executing his part in the prank. Beckham's arrogance blinded him to the betrayal coming from his own brother in arms.

He had completely underestimated Keegan.

Keegan's intimate gestures, lingering touches, and whispered comforts all masked a much more selfish motive. His closeness wasn't genuine friendship; it was calculated. His intentions were far from noble.

His method of "comforting" crossed way over the boundaries of friendship.