A DANGEROUS CHOICE

SOMEWHERE SAFER THAN HOME

Maya was still smiling a little when she got home, still turning the piano lesson over in her head — Jordan's hand over hers, the sound of her laugh — when she stepped through the front door and felt the whole shape of the evening change.

Her parents were waiting up. That alone was never a good sign.

Her mother was perched on the edge of the couch like she'd been sitting there a while, and her father stood by the window with his hands in his pockets, wearing the particular look he got when he thought he was about to hand her something wonderful.

"We've got good news," he said. "That's why we waited up for you."

"What news?"

He told her he'd run into Noah at a business dinner — Noah, whose father had been his partner and closest client for going on fifteen years — and that Noah had asked about her. By name.

"Me? Why would he ask about me? I don't even know what he looks like."

"That's exactly why the timing works out," her mother said smoothly. "To fix that by matching you both."

"You've decided to *match* us," Maya said, testing the word out loud like it might sound less absurd than it did in her head. It didn't.

"To strengthen the partnership. Keep the families close," her father said, as if that settled something. "Noah isn't just any young man. Tall, handsome, sharp — and generous, Maya. You'll like him. Anyone would."

"And you'll be giving this family a future most people only dream about," her mother added, reaching over to pat her knee like the matter had already been decided, maybe years ago, long before Maya had any say in the room.

"What if he doesn't want anything to do with me? What if I don't want anything to do with him?"

Her mother laughed, soft and a little too pleased with herself. "Sweetheart, he's taking you to the gala next weekend. Your father already told him you'd love to go."

"You already—" Maya started, and stopped. There wasn't a version of that sentence that would land the way she needed it to.

"This is a massive opportunity for this family," her father said, already turning for the stairs. "Don't disappoint us."

Her mother lingered a moment longer. "I really don't understand why you're not thrilled. Every girl in this city would kill to be in your position. It's not as if you've got a boyfriend standing in the way."

"Okay," Maya said, and smiled, and meant none of it, and climbed the stairs before her face could give her away.

---

She shut her bedroom door, turned the lock, and slid down it until she was sitting on the floor with her knees pulled to her chest. Downstairs she could hear her father on the phone already, voice low and pleased, probably telling someone the good news.

Her hands were shaking a little. She didn't fully understand why — she'd known for years her parents had opinions about her future, had watched them steer every part of her life toward something they'd approve of. But hearing it said out loud, *gala*, *match*, *don't disappoint us*, made it feel suddenly real in a way it hadn't before.

She thought of calling Jordan which she found herself already doing it, phone against her ear before she'd really thought it through. It felt strange, reaching for someone she'd known such a short time. But there wasn't anyone else her mind went to,she had no friends or siblings.

Jordan picked up on the second ring. "Hey — you okay?"

That was all it took. Maya's voice cracked on the first word and then the rest came out in pieces, half-formed sentences about a gala and a billionaire's son and her parents standing in the living room deciding her future like she wasn't even in the room to argue about it.

"They want me to marry someone I've never met," she finally managed, and then she was properly crying, the kind that came from somewhere deeper than just tonight.

Jordan didn't try to fix it right away. She just stayed on the line and let her get it out, murmuring small things — *I'm here, take your time, I've got you* — until Maya's breathing evened out.

"I know it sounds insane,we barely know each other and I'm already boring you with my worries," Maya said eventually, wiping her face with her sleeve.

"It doesn't sound insane. It sounds like a lot to carry alone." A pause. "You're not marrying anyone you don't want to marry, Maya. Whatever happens, that's not up to them."

They talked until Maya's eyes were too heavy to stay open, Jordan's voice steady the whole time, and somewhere in the middle of it the panic loosened its grip enough that she could finally sleep.

---

The next afternoon, Jordan texted her to come outside — she'd be waiting at the junction near the house, not the driveway, Maya walked down with her heart going faster than the short distance should have justified.

Jordan was leaning against the car when she got there, denim jacket, that same easy grin, like the night before hadn't happened at all — or like she'd simply decided not to let it linger where Maya could see it weighing on her.

"Hey,I'm sorry I put you unawares by just visiting like that without proper notice," Jordan said, and pulled her into the passenger seat before either of them said much else.

“No it's fine,” Maya replied while entering the car.

Inside the car it was quiet, warm, the windows starting to fog faintly at the edges. Jordan reached over and tucked a piece of hair behind Maya's ear, studying her face like she was checking for damage from the night before.

"You look better today," Jordan said softly. "And soundl better too."

"I feel better. Because of you."

Jordan smiled at that, slow, and leaned in.

Their eyes met first. Jordan's mouth twitched at the corner, not quite a smile yet, and Maya felt herself leaning in before she'd decided to.

"Hi," Jordan said, low, like the word needed permission to exist in that small a space.

Maya didn't answer. She didn't trust her voice not to give her away.

Then Jordan kissed her — soft at first, testing, like she was asking a question with her mouth instead of her voice. Maya answered by pressing closer, one hand finding the back of Jordan's neck, and the kiss changed shape under her hands, slower and surer at once.

Maya let herself sink into it, let the gala and the billionaire's son and her mother's voice fade out for a few minutes, until there was nothing in the world except the two of them and the fogged-up windows and the quiet hum of the engine

Jordan's fingers curved along her jaw, tilting her head just slightly, and Maya felt the sound that came out of her before she heard it — quiet, involuntary. Jordan pulled back only far enough to catch her breath against Maya's lips before kissing her again, deeper this time, unhurried but certain, like she had nowhere else to be.

When they finally broke apart, foreheads together, neither of them said anything for a moment. They didn't need to.

"Whatever they're planning for you," she said quietly, "you don't have to face it alone."

Maya nodded, not trusting her voice just yet.

She walked home a little while later, the taste of Jordan still on her lips, and spent the rest of the day distracted — through lunch, through her mother's chatter about caterers and guest lists, through the long stretch of afternoon light crawling across her bedroom wall. No matter what she was supposed to be doing, some part of her kept circling back to the car, to Jordan's hand on her jaw, to the quiet certainty in her voice.

It was the only thing all day that felt like it belonged to her.