Wet

The poor weren’t with the rich.

The help didn’t think they had a chance with the ones they worked for.

That’s what my parents drilled into my head since the day we started working for the St. James family, since we moved onto the property and they became our employers.

But from the moment I saw Pyper, the daughter of the wealthiest family in the state, I knew I couldn’t stay away. I pretended like I could, but I sought her out, took the jobs that would bring me close to her. I wanted to see her, smell her perfume, tell myself that what I was doing wasn’t wrong, that I wasn’t crossing lines.

“My kind” weren’t with hers.

Until they were, until we were.

And when Pyper gave herself to me, when I took her in the way I’d always wanted in the pool house where anyone could see us, could catch us, I knew there was no going back. I’d make sure of that.

I’d been in love with her for years, and now that I finally had her, nothing would keep her from me.

Not our families, not the “rules” on us not being together, not even the fact that she’d leave again for college.

Nothing would keep me from Pyper.