All Too Well

Deadly Sinners Collection - Lust

Steph Macca

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 Copyright © 2024 Steph Macca
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and
any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or
any means, without prior permission in writing from the author, nor be otherwise circulated in any
form other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition,
being imposed on the subsequent purchases.
Cover Design: Moonstruck Cover Design & Photography
(moonstruckcoverdesign.com)

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 Contents

Dedication
1. Prologue
2. Chapter One
3. Chapter Two
4. Chapter Three
5. Chapter Four
6. Chapter Five
7. Chapter Six
8. Chapter Seven
9. Chapter Eight
10. Chapter Nine
11. Chapter Ten
12. Chapter Eleven
13. Chapter Twelve
14. Chapter Thirteen
15. Chapter Fourteen
16. Chapter Fifteen
17. Chapter Sixteen
18. Chapter Seventeen
19. Chapter Eighteen
20. Chapter Nineteen
21. Chapter Twenty
22. Chapter Twenty One
23. Chapter Twenty Two
24. Chapter Twenty Three
25. Chapter Twenty Four
26. Chapter Twenty Five
27. Chapter Twenty Six
28. Chapter Twenty Seven
29. Chapter Twenty Eight
30. Chapter Twenty Nine
31. Chapter Thirty
32. Chapter Thirty One
33. Chapter Thirty Two
34. Chapter Thirty Three
35. Chapter Thirty Four
36. Chapter Thirty Five
37. Chapter Thirty Six
38. Chapter Thirty Seven
39. Chapter Thirty Eight
40. Chapter Thirty Nine
41. Chapter Forty
Afterword
Follow The Author
Other Books by Steph Macca
Deadly Sinners Collection

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To all the women who were promised the world and told "normal girls are
boring" before having their hearts shattered.
May every tear you ever shed over those assholes become mind blowing
orgasms that measure on the Richter Scale.

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 Prologue

I know all too well the pain and torture of love.

We always promise to protect our hearts, but after each massacre, we
silently hope that we were wrong.
But it makes you wonder just how many stabs in the heart someone can
take before it's too much. How many nails in the coffin before it's sealed
shut?
If I knew then what I know now, would I have changed it in hindsight?
Possibly. I like to believe that each end is the start of a new beginning. Life
lessons they say. Let's be honest though — sometimes that's just bullshit.
Sometimes an asshole… is just an asshole.
They say you have three great loves in your lifetime.
With the average life expectancy being as long as it is these days, it's hard
to grasp that only three is adequate. But realistically, I think it's assumed
that each love will start an era — setting the scene as you grow. Love is a
fluid concept, changing just as much as we do as we age. We can love hard,
or just a little. We can love someone, or be in love with someone.
The problem with society is you're meant to be on your third love by your
thirties — ready to thrive for the next fifty years together. But I was never
one to abide by social norms.
What are the chances I'd meet all three great loves in the same year?
 I guess in my defense, I thought I was on my third great love. But as I
said, we change and grow. Looking back at my past relationships, I now
realize that the immature boys I was infatuated with were nothing more
than validation seeking, companionship and life lessons.
Love number one in your life is meant to teach you what love is. It's
going to be hot and fast, fizzling out just as fast as it started.
Love number two is the major life lesson. The love that consumes you so
deeply that you feel like you are going to die when it's over. You live and
breathe that person, coming to terms with heartbreak and survival.
And love number three — well, that's meant to be the greatest of them all.
It's your redemption — the person that is sent to heal you, and spend the
rest of your life with.
Sometimes the criteria overlaps, and I guess in a way, all of them are life
lessons. It's why our mothers warned us not to be so hot-headed over that
boy in high school that breaks our heart because he's a bad boy. We're told
we'll get over it but we don't believe it until we are older. But we do — we
heal and move on, laughing and cringing at our former selves.
Your three great loves are never meant to entwine — at least, not
physically. Maybe that's where I've gone wrong.
I dwell too much on things. Scenarios play in my head — sometimes
flashbacks of the trauma. Even worse, sometimes I picture an alternative
scenario, when they realize their mistakes, apologizing for the hurt they
caused. That's the problem with narcissists though. They will never admit
that they were wrong.
I guess I should start at the beginning, back when life was simpler.
Sometimes I miss the person I was before all this happened. But then I
remind myself of one minor piece of advice.
Revenge is best served hot — steaming hot with burning passion as I
replace their touches on my body with someone else's.
Death by a thousand papercuts? No — rebirth by a thousand orgasms.

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 Chapter One

"Now to the weather… like the rest of the week, severe thunderstorms and
flash flooding are still forecast for the Greater St. Devil's Creek area.
Emergency services are on standby and they advise that anyone who is able
to stay inside should do so until the storm cell passes in a few days."
I click the television off, flinging the remote to the other side of the
couch. Outside, rain hammers on the window, confirming that the
meteorologists are correct, for once.
"That's morbidly depressing."
My gaze flicks over to my roommate, Blaise, who's poised on the single-
seater armchair. His black coated nails are strumming to a silent tune on the
armrest. He hasn't bothered to style his dark brown hair this morning —
there's no point with this weather. We'd make it as far as the driveway
before resembling some type of sea creature that's emerged from the depths
of the deep.
"I like the part where they tell us to stay home if we can," I mumble
sarcastically, tucking my legs under my ass. "Because bosses are so
forgiving in this economy."
My boss at the warehouse was gracious enough to let me have one day
off, mainly because he had little choice. The roads are flooded and my little
Suzuki won't make it. He was adamant I could probably get there if I tried.
Unfortunately, I haven't worked out how to turn my little car into a portable
submarine. If I don't get to my shift tomorrow, I can kiss my job goodbye.
As much as I hate my job packing online orders, I can't afford to not have
an income. Life has already been challenging recently, and the only thing
getting me through it is the routine of work, eat, sleep. I need the structure
and normality to pretend my life hasn't fallen to pieces.
It's been three weeks, four days and thirteen hours since my boyfriend
ended things with me. It was out of the blue — one minute we were on the
beach during vacation, the next he was dumping me over text message
before promptly blocking me with no explanation.
We were only together for less than a year, but it still stings. Being
twenty-nine, I decided to play for keeps. To me, it was serious. It was only a
short amount of time, but I was hoping Jake would be the one I married in
the future. And despite what happened, I thought he felt the same. We made
promises to each other, agreeing we were on the same page. But the
breakup came out of nowhere, leaving me questioning everything.
Was it me? Wasn't I enough? Did I do something wrong?
I wish I could say there was a trigger to the whole event, but there wasn't
even so much as a fight. He texted me goodnight after a two hour phone
call, I fell asleep, only to wake up to a random message ending things.
I stupidly thought for a brief moment it was a prank since it was the first
of April. But when the hours passed and I remained blocked, I realized the
sickening truth. He also blocked me on Facebook and Instagram, cutting off
any connection I had to him.
Slowly, the hours turned into days and before I knew it, I was here. A
month of torture — haunted by memories, touches, and doubts.
I should have done the normal breakup thing and went out and got drunk
with my friends, but I put it off, spending some time processing things. And
now that I was finally ready to do all the crazy shit to forget him, the
weather decided to be a bitch and keep us inside. Well, except for needing
to go to work.
My asshole boss must think highly of my survival skills or weather-
controlling abilities — but alas, I'm not a God. I'm just a normal, sad
woman who has $17 in the bank account, lives with a roommate, has a sad
addiction to reading, and burns microwave popcorn even when following
instructions.
 "Everything is depressing," I finally answer Blaise, digging myself out of
the pity hole. "I feel bad for you though. It must suck not being able to see
Nathan."
Blaise gives me a soft smile, his light brown eyes dancing slightly at the
mention of his boyfriend. "We've been Facetiming. It's just not safe for him
to drive here. It's an hour on the best of days, let alone this shit weather."
"Understandable," I murmur. "At least you get to work from home.
Marco thinks I'm going to adapt and grow gills."
A real whiz at the computer, Blaise took a massive leap six months ago,
starting his own IT consulting business. He helps build websites and social
medias, and in this day and age, technology seems to be a safe bet. I guess
in comparison, online deliveries have been spreading like wildfire since
covid lockdown, but does it make me happy? Absolutely not. The papercuts
aren't worth the dickhead boss, minimum pay, and long hours.
"You should quit," Blaise answers simply. "Tell him to fuck off."
I laugh before letting out a little groan. "And leave you to have to pay the
rent on your own? No way. Nathan already hates me as it is."
His eyes soften with amusement. "He doesn't hate you. He's antisocial.
There's a difference. Nath just has resting bitch face."
"Or," I offer. "He hates me."
Blaise shakes his head in disbelief. "Jake really did a number on you,
didn't he? You're the most selfless, kind person, Skylar. Don't let that
asshole determine your self-worth. What he did was wrong, and only a
coward blocks after a text message breakup. If he can't even man up and
face his own actions, that's a reflection of him, not you."
My nose wrinkles as I bite back an argument. Instead, I turn my attention
back to the rain outside, watching droplets slide down the glass panes. "I
just would have preferred some closure."
"The only closure you need is to lock and bolt the door after that asshole
shut it. I believe that everything happens for a reason, and once it's done
and you let it go, you make room for what was needed to take its place."
"If IT ever gets boring, you could probably make a career out of
motivational speaking," I tell him with a laugh.
Blaise grins. "So, my words are working?"
"Not really," I snort playfully, standing up and stretching. "But maybe I'm
the problem. I'm defective. If there's a way to return me to factory settings,
we could start again."
"You're late, Lara."
My left eye twitches as I hang my drenched jacket onto the staff room
hook. "Skylar," I correct him, knowing he's not that stupid. I've worked with
Marco for over a year. He absolutely knows my name, but still insists on
getting it wrong every time we speak.
He taps his gold watch with a raised eyebrow, ignoring my comment.
"Your shift started eight minutes ago. I'm going to have to dock your pay."
I stand before him, dripping like a wet cat — probably the closest
drenched pussy he'll ever get to in his life. "Four out of the five roads to get
here were closed, Marco. The fifth one was only just accessible because
they are doing maintenance on it to remove excess water. It wasn't even
accessible yesterday."
"Well, I'm here," he argues. "If I can do it, everyone should be able to do
it."
Blinking in disbelief, I shove my handbag into my locker. "You… you
live above the warehouse."
"I'm here," he reiterates angrily. "Don't make excuses. You can start in the
bridal section today."
That motherfucking balloon hole. We have no less than fifty sections in
the warehouse, all different sections from distributors. Yet, he knows I've
just gone through a breakup. He overheard me talking about it and now he's
using my pain as punishment.
Despite Blaise's comforting advice to tell him to fuck off, I bite my
tongue, counting to ten before just giving him a nod silently. I'm not going
to let him see that he's getting to me. It's not fair on Blaise to be stuck with
the financial responsibility for his roommate, and I'll be damned if I let
another asshole beat me down right now.
I'm almost regretting not quitting right then and there when I get to the
bridal section in the back corner of the warehouse, looking at lace and tulle
poking out of boxes. I don't blame people for buying dresses online in this
cost of living crisis, but it breaks my heart seeing how poorly they get
packed sometimes.
Heading over to the computer, I scan the orders list, printing out a batch
of forms and receipts. Getting to work, I start gathering various bits of
wedding attire and decor, setting up my packaging station. At least being in
the back corner, I'm nowhere near Marco's office and I can avoid him the
entire day.
Putting my cell on the countertop, I open up Spotify, hitting play on my
music to help pass the time. Outside, the rain splatters hard on the
warehouse roof, making the whole building sound like a shower.
It's not the worst shift of all time — mainly because I'm away from the
boss from Hell. Eventually, I'm able to zone out the glittery reminders of
my breakup, entering my female rage era as I play The Tortured Poet's
Department over and over.
If anything, I start questioning Jake's motives. What kind of coward just
ends things suddenly without an explanation or reason? Everyone is entitled
to their feelings and we all know that relationships sometimes don't last.
But, he could at least have had the decency to be a human being and give
me the closure I deserved. I'm a reasonable person — always accepting of
things even when they hurt because I worry about other people's feelings
more than my own.
But I deserved that.
I fucking deserved a proper breakup.
It takes a lowly human to do what he did. And realistically, why would I
want someone who can't even look me in the eye to say goodbye? We
deserve real men, who will be respectful and honest. It's the bare minimum
and we shouldn't have to beg for it.
By the time my shift finally ends, I'm raging so hard that I forgot about
the rain. I ignore Marco as I grab my things from my locker, holding my
head high so he knows he didn't break me today, and strut outside to the
parking lot.
As the rain blasts me in the face, hitting me hard like tiny little knives, I
realize I might be in a bit of a clusterfuck.
There's a tiny layer of solid water across the parking lot, drenching my
boots. While it doesn't seem too bad, the problem lies ahead.
The parking lot is raised from the road with somewhat decent drainage.
However, the roads on the other hand…
 High water gushes down the street, sending garbage cans on a river
adventure. I'm soaked to the bone, watching as cars drive slowly through
the rising water. The public drains are struggling to keep up with the flow,
exacerbated by the excess flow from surrounding industrial parking lots
tumbling down.
It's been drilled into us that if there's flood water, don't drive in it. But
when the remaining option is to sleep at the warehouse with my dickhead
boss, I know what I'd rather choose.
My Suzuki flashes as I hit the keypad, barreling into the car. I
immediately drench the seat, wiping water out of my eyes and hair.
We're going on a rapid river adventure. Hold on tight, motherfuckers.

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 Chapter Two

And… this was a dumb idea.

I make it about three miles down the road until I discover most of the
roads are closed again. Traffic lights are out, leaving cars to navigate for
themselves. Everyone is in a rush to get out of the rain, forcing their place
into traffic.
I manage to find a road that's not as flooded, driving slow as my
windshield wipers go for gold. The fastest setting still isn't enough to see
clearly in front of me, the world a glossy blur of wetness.
Taking higher ground, I catch a good view of St. Devil's Creek — the
actual creek that the town is named after, and watch as trees are engulfed by
the rising water. It's murky, making my fear of thalassophobia send shivers
down my spine. Rationally, I know there's no sea monster lurking behind
the waters. But I bet there's bull sharks.
I stupidly watched Jaws on repeat as a child, equally fascinated and
traumatized by the movies. I curse my parents for not intervening and
realizing it's not appropriate for a six year old to watch horror movies about
very real animals, but I guess times were different. We were expected to be
stronger, less compassionate. The solution to every single problem was to
compartmentalize your issues and "suck it up."
I probably should have chosen a career in psychology. Our entire
generation seems to need one now and I don't blame them. Between
generational evolution, the cost of living crisis, and climate change, we're
pretty much in a constant state of survival.
Instead I spend my days with a power-tripping asshole, packing plastic
bouquets and centerpieces. At least, it's never too late for change.
Turning onto Saint View Road, the only remaining open street that will
get me home, I frown at the height of the water on the road. It doesn't look
too bad, but looks can be deceiving.
Pulling off to the side of the road, I look at the other cars passing through,
checking if they make it safely. It's my best bet, and if they are keen to give
it a try first, then I'm happy to wait and watch.
Several larger SUVs make it through with no problem, sending small
ripples and waves into nearby yards. A semi-truck passes through slowly,
splashing my car with muddy water. I wait for the windscreen to clear
slightly and watch a slightly smaller car attempt the passage. It makes it —
but barely.
Realizing I have no choice and seeing the rain starting to get heavier, I
clench my ass cheeks and say a silent prayer to whatever deity wants to
listen to a heartbroken millennial.
Taking it slow, water surrounds the car as I drive through, the sound
making my heart race even more as I curse repeatedly under my breath.
There's a small dip in the road, and I optimistically tell myself that once we
get past that, it's smooth sailing to my shower and Disney Plus subscription.
As soon as I hit the dip, my foot presses on the gas a little firmer, the
Suzuki revving with gusto.
We're nearly there… we're nearly there!
It takes me about three whole seconds to recognize that the street is now
moving sideways rather than coming at me straight on. Panicking, I hit the
gas again, hearing the tires spin aimlessly, the car floating.
"Oh, fuck. Oh, FUCK!" I yell to myself, looking out the driver's window
and smashing my forehead into it by accident. The water is too high, lifting
my tiny car and carrying it weightlessly through the water.
There's a barrier on the side of the road, the metal grinding as my car
connects with it.
I'm now literally a floating duck. A floating, fucking duck. Why did I
have to choose a yellow car?!
Stupidly, I reach for the door handle without thinking. It cracks open an
inch, icy water pouring into the car and drenching my feet. The pressure
slams the door shut again, my feet flailing as I splash water all up my legs.
"FUCK!" I say again, looking around. Some larger cars are still passing
through, ignoring the pathetic girl in her yellow submarine. Their superior
vehicles smash water into me, making the car shake on the tiny waves.
I slam my hands onto the steering wheel, contemplating my options. I
usually work well under pressure — but presently, my brain has decided to
exit the vehicle and leave me alone. Self-preservation and all…
Grabbing my cell, I try to dial my dad's number. He'd know what to do in
this situation. There's a sing-song tune in my ear and when I rip it from my
head and examine the screen, my face deadpans at the non-existent signal
bar.
"I'm going to fucking die…" I mutter, putting my head on the steering
wheel. Tears well up in my eyes, panic consuming me as I freeze in fear.
I should have listened to Blaise and told Marco to go fuck himself, which
I'm sure he does on a nightly basis anyway. Now, I'm stranded, about to
become one with St. Devil's Creek, covered in tiny ass specks of glitter
from wedding dresses, and not enough money in my bank account to even
give myself a decent funeral!
I'm hyperventilating when someone beeps their horn, scaring the life out
of me. If the flood doesn't kill me, then this might just do the trick.
My body jolts violently, my elbow hitting the door, making me yelp. I
cradle it, finally peering through the foggy window to find the blurry figure
of a large car pulled up beside me. I stare at them, squinting until I see their
window down, waiting for me to respond.
My gaze slowly turns to the window button, embarrassment coursing
through me. Why didn't I think of the window?
Slowly, I press it, the buzz of the window being drowned out by the
sound of rain as drops slap me in the face for my stupidity.
"Are you okay?" a masculine voice calls out. I can barely see through the
heavy rain, so I lift my hand, holding it above my eyes.
Staring back at me is a young guy in a black Dodge Durango, his dark
brown eyes watching me with concern.
"I'm stuck," I answer back sheepishly.
He gives me a warm sympathetic smile. "I can see that. Do you need
help?"
I give a small nod, my cheeks flushing despite the freezing rain. "Yes,
please."
 Unclasping his seatbelt, he climbs over into his passenger seat, hanging
his head out the window. "You're going to have to climb out your window
into my car. Think you can do that?"
Nodding again, I take my seatbelt off, shoving my cell down my bra
along with my car key. As I squeeze through the window, he reaches out,
grabbing me under the arms to help guide me. Thankfully, our cars are
close, but I still have to balance on the window frame. His car is much
higher than mine, and when I'm firmly balanced on the edge of my Suzuki,
he counts to three, pulling me upwards as I use my foot to push off from the
dashboard.
It has to be the most hilarious visual for him, watching me enter his car
by the window head first, my legs following suit like wet spaghetti.
"My window," I mutter, looking at my car.
"I think water getting inside your car is the least of your worries," he
says, amused.
I take the key out of my bra, locking the car. He lets out an uncontrollable
laugh, covering his mouth in an attempt to stop himself.
Bewildered, I glance at him, my cheeks turning even redder. "Better safe
than sorry," I say with a shrug, playing it cool.
"Sure," he replies with a grin, winding the window up. "Because if they
can't fit inside the window to steal the car, the water won't be a deterrent at
all."
"It's just an automatic reaction," I mutter, shoving the key inside my top
again.
He nods, turning his attention to the road, flicking his blinker on. "Good
strategy."
I stay quiet, scared that I'll incriminate myself even further if I open my
mouth. We drive away from my abandoned car, my body shivering from
receiving three month's worth of rain on it.
The guy reaches for the temperature controls, turning the heating up as
far as possible. "You must be freezing. Here, take this too," he says,
grabbing a zip-up hoodie from the backseat. With one hand, he lays it over
my lap, leaving me to cover my torso and upper chest.
"Thank you," I say genuinely, wrapping myself in the warm black fabric.
There's a faint smell of wood and spice lingering in the fibers, giving an
almost homely type of feeling.
"Let's get you warmed up. You don't want to get sick."
 I watch as he pulls into the drive-thru of Starbucks, looking at me
expectedly. "What type of coffee do you drink? Assuming you drink coffee?
We can do hot chocolate?"
"Chai latte with a shot of espresso, almond milk," I answer with a smile.
I'm not one to rely on people usually, but it's nice to know that strangers can
be good Samaritans.
When I open up my banking app on my cell to access my digital card, he
waves his hand at me. "I've got it. Don't worry about it."
"Are you sure? I'm happy to get it. It's the least I can do."
"Yeah," he shoots back. "After the day you've had, I'm sure you need it."
If only he knew the day I had. The submarine ducky issue was just the
icing on the cake. He leans out the window, relaying our order to the
cashier, before heading to the next window. I notice he orders the same as
me, and I can't help but wonder if he's being polite or if we genuinely have
the same coffee order.
"I really appreciate it," I tell him while we wait for the coffees at the
window. "It really has been the day from Hell."
"Except Hell isn't usually wet," he says, pausing on the last word. "Damp,
I mean."
My eyebrows shoot up as I catch a small moment of panic on his face, a
smile crossing my face when I realize he's embarrassed now too. I ignore
the accidental double innuendo meaning, taking the coffee from him as they
are passed through the window.
The first sip is like Heaven — warmth spreading through my stomach. I
let out a little groan of appreciation, tipping my back against the headrest.
"Coffee doesn't fix everything, but man it makes me feel good."
"Feeling good is important," he agrees, tapping his fingers on the steering
wheel as we pull out of Starbucks. "Where are you heading?"
I open my eyes to scan the surroundings, happy to see we should make it
to my place without drama. "2505 Sinfonia Way. It's a little white house
with an unruly rosebush in the front garden. You can't miss it."
He nods, pulling out into the line of traffic as he heads towards my house.
"So, since I rescued you and all, do I get to know your name?" he asks
playfully, making conversation.
"Skylar," I respond.
"Skylar?" he pauses briefly. "Beautiful name for a beautiful woman."
 Warmth swirls in my stomach again, but this time it's not from the coffee.
If I'm being honest, it's been a long time since someone made me feel seen.
Jake and I were content with each other, but sometimes, it was torture trying
to get the bare minimum from him. Asking for help, or even just a check-in
text message sometimes, was the equivalent of asking him to donate a
kidney to me. And every time I expressed my needs, he made me feel like I
was asking for too much. But still, I was comfortable. For the most part,
things were great. Our sex life was good, we had dinner dates, and when I
wasn't fighting for his attention, I loved the relationship.
I watch as he stops the Durango in front of my house, my eyes
immediately spotting the rosebush I had mentioned. Blaise and I have
begged the landlord to either tidy it up or let us do it, but he refuses.
Pausing with my hand on the handle, I turn back to my rescuer, locking
eyes with him.
"Honestly, thank you so much. You have no idea what it means to me," I
say warmly. "I'm sure it will be a mission to get the car back, but at least I'm
home now."
"It's no trouble at all," he retorts back. "Can I at least grab your number
so I can check in on you later to make sure you are okay?"
I nod, waiting as he passes me his cell. I type in my number, handing the
cell back to him.
Starting to exit the car, I realize I've forgotten something. Turning back,
he looks at me quizzically.
"What's your name?" I blurt out, the epitome of grace and poise.
His eyes light up with a smile, holding back laughter. "It's Jordan. It was
lovely to meet you, Skylar."

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 Chapter Three

"Whoa. I've never seen you look so happy after a shift. Please tell me you
finally told Marco to go fuck a pineapple."
I'm still dazed from everything that I didn't even notice Blaise in the
living room, laptop balancing on his crossed legs.
"I wish," I tell him, chucking my keys into the bowl near the front door. I
kick off my shoes, stepping into the living room and gravitating towards the
heater.
Rubbing my hands together, I throw Blaise a look. "I might have to
tomorrow though. I got caught in flood water on the way home."
"What? Nath, I gotta go," he says goodbye quickly, closing the laptop.
I cringe, registering the fact I've just interrupted their Facetime. Blaise
stands up, putting his laptop on the coffee table and standing up.
"Are you okay?" he asks, concerned.
I nod. "My car is still stranded — and with the window down. Fuck, I
hope it doesn't cost too much to fix. Also, please apologize to Nathan for
me."
"He'll be fine," he reassures me. "What happened?" Blaise moves towards
me, crossing his arms as he waits for my reply.
"She just couldn't make it. I got swept into the road barrier and when I
tried to open the door, water got in. Someone rescued me though."
 I trail off, a smile crossing my face. I can't help it. Even after the worst
day, Jordan was really something special. I'll never be able to thank him
enough for what he did.
Blaise looks at me confused, perhaps wondering if I'm on the verge of a
nervous breakdown. I quickly wave him off, smiling. "I'm fine, I promise. A
really nice man picked me up and gave me a lift home."
"Oh?" he mutters, surprised. "And is he the reason you're smiling like an
idiot?"
"I am an idiot, but that's beside the point. But yes, he was just really
sweet. And he got me a coffee."
"That's awesome, Sky. I'm really happy you are okay. You should have
called me. I would have come and got you."
I wrinkle my nose. "No cell service."
"Ahh," he mutters. "So, it was a really big clusterfuck then."
"The biggest clusterfuck," I agree. "And that wasn't even the start of it
all."
Blaise holds his hand up. "Pause that thought. Something tells me we're
going to need liquor for this."
Laughing, I follow him into our tiny pale blue kitchen, watching him raid
the cupboard. "Let's see what we have here," he says, shifting through
opened bottles of various alcohol. "How bad on a scale of beer to tequila is
it?"
"Tequila," I confirm, snorting as he gives me a horrified look.
"Tequila it is," he mutters, grabbing a bottle. "I actually think we might
have some limes in the fridge."
I shake my head, grabbing the salt from the adjacent cupboard. "Let's do
it old-school. Party like we're in the early 2000s again."
"Music," he says, putting the bottle on the counter. "If we're going 2000s,
I'm putting my playlist on."
He disappears from the room, and it's not long until I hear the speakers in
the living room come to life, Panic! At The Disco blaring through. Blaise
wanders back through the doorway to the kitchen, spotting the two glasses
I've pulled from the cupboard.
I go to reach for the tequila bottle but he beats me to it, popping the lid
off before filling a shot glass. He hands it to me, repeating the same motion
on his own glass before we both sprinkle some salt along the tops of our
hands.
 "Right," he says, holding his glass out. "To telling bosses to fuck off?" he
suggests strongly.
I nod, clinking his glass with mine. "To telling bosses to fuck
pineapples."
We throw our shots back, my face twitching and convulsing as I quickly
lap up the salt. Perhaps tequila wasn't the best option after all. I rarely drink
at the best of times, and we're going from zero to one-hundred.
"Urgh," I mutter, doing a small jiggle on the spot. "I was much better at
taking shots in the 2000s. Now, we're just old."
"Excuse you," Blaise says, refilling our glasses. "We're twenty-nine and
fucking fabulous."
I wearily glance at the shot glass, picking it up. "You're fabulous, yes. I'm
a hot mess."
"But a hot one," he adds, motioning for me to drink up.
Slamming the empty shot glass back onto the counter, I finally tell him
the full story — about Marco scolding me for being late, putting me to work
in the bridal section, and elaborating on the details of my yellow submarine
adventure.
"That motherfucker," Blaise snaps.
"I know," I nod, leaning against the counter for support as I feel the
effects of the tequila slowly entering my bloodstream. "But let's be realistic,
I need the job."
A dark expression crosses Blaise's face. "A job is not worth your life, Sky.
I don't give a shit what Marco Barfo says. Look, I'll cover the rent and food
for a bit. Hell, you can even help out with some admin work for me."
"I couldn't ask you to do that," I whine. "I really, really love you for it and
you're the best goddamn roommate. But that's your business and livelihood.
We don't mix that."
"Yeah, it is my business," Blaise argues. "Which is why I can do it. If I'm
being honest, admin stuff is boring and I have a lot of work coming in. I
was considering hiring someone anyway. Just trial it for a few weeks — it's
a win-win for both of us. You do my boring admin work which frees up my
time to focus on clients' needs. And in return, you don't have to work for an
asshole who would rather you sleep on a dirty warehouse floor or drown in
the creek."
I consider his proposal, weighing up all the pros and cons. Except, the list
is moving in my head. I don't hold liquor well.
 "I need to write this all down," I tell him. "I need my lists. But I can't do
it right now. Let me sleep on it and we'll see what the rest of the week is
like. The storm cell is meant to pass in a few days."
Blaise nods, knowing that's as far as he'll get with me right now. "Okay.
But this conversation isn't done yet. In the meantime, I'm throwing a frozen
pizza in the oven and you can fill me in on this Jordan guy."

I manage to stumble to my room after dinner. Thankfully, we didn't do any

more tequila shots but I did let Blaise talk me into one light beer. I know,
mixing alcohol is just as bad, but at least I can stomach it a bit better.
We shared a pizza and I told him about Jordan before we realized it was
close to midnight. I was still in my work clothes, the crinkled fabric molded
to my frame now that I was dry.
Our tiny two bedroom house was cozy, the two of us sharing a bathroom.
Blaise was kind enough to give me first dibs, heading into his bedroom
across the hall from mine. The bathroom was at the end of the hallway
between our bedrooms, and I relished the feeling of the hot water cascading
over me after feeling way too much cold water on my body today.
When I finished, I gave his bedroom door a quick knock, letting him
know I was finished. He yelled back a thank you, the sound of Nathan's
voice in the background. At least he was able to resume his Facetime.
Thankfully, Nathan worked at a restaurant, so they were used to having late
night calls and dates. Blaise was flexible in his own schedule, something I
was envious of. I know he often went out of his way to work around
Nathan's schedule as well as making sure he had time to hit the gym during
the day. I have no idea how Blaise fits everything into his day, but he's a
master of organization and planning. He gets to live his dream life,
something I am incredibly happy about and inspired by.
He's currently saving up to buy his own house and I know that he and
Nathan have discussed moving in together at some point. I'll be sad when
that day comes, but hopefully by then, I'll be on my own two feet, also
kicking ass.
 I trip over a discarded heel as I enter the bedroom, cursing as I quickly
shut the door so Blaise doesn't come to investigate. I kick the stiletto to the
side, crossing the room to my double bed that's pressed against the wall on
the other side.
Laying on top of the bed, I glance around the room, wishing I could
change the hideous light pink walls. I'm not sure what the landlord was
thinking when he got this house ready for renting, but it's clear he didn't
have an interior design bone in his body. He wanted quick and easy money,
and when people are fighting for housing, you take what you can get.
Blaise was living here before me and when his previous roommate moved
out, he advertised for a new one. We clicked straight away and I moved in
the following week.
I've only been in St. Devil's Creek for about fourteen months. I moved
here just before I met Jake, originally being offered an office job.
Unfortunately, as luck would have it, a month into my new role, I found out
the business was going bankrupt and they had hired me just to help tie up
loose ends before they closed the doors. At the time, I was commuting back
and forth to my hometown which was an hour away. I had fallen in love
with the town and decided to take the plunge and stay.
I worked a few small casual jobs until finally ending up with Marco. At
times I regret not going back home, but now that I had finally gotten out of
that town, I couldn't turn back.
We grew up in a small town with little job opportunities. As much as I
missed my family and friends, I knew there was a bigger world out there for
me. And maybe, one day soon, I'll find it.
For now, here I am.
I stare at the television on the wall across from me, deliberating putting
something on. My eyes trail to the desk below it, my closed laptop enticing
me to open up Google and search for new jobs. But it's late, there's plenty
of time for that tomorrow. I'll have to sort out my car then too — provided
she's still there. I dread thinking about how much water is probably inside
now, ignoring the rational thought that she might be a goner.
I can't even fathom the idea of not having a car at the moment. I don't
own much, but I managed to buy her a few years ago. I saved for years at
my boring cashier job back home. She was the first real achievement I ever
had.
 Reaching for my cell, I go to check the time when I notice a text message
notification on my screen. Clicking it open, I frown, not recognizing the
unsaved number, until it dawns on me.
Unknown: Hey stranger. How are you doing after today?
My heart starts racing as I quickly type back a message, not even pausing
to consider it's late.
Me: Jordan, I presume?
Before I can close my cell, accepting the fact he's probably asleep, I see
the little bubbles pop up on the bottom of the screen.
Unknown: Well, of course. How many people did you give your number
out to today?
I laugh, smiling at the screen.
Me: Only two. But he was really questionable. I'm pretty certain he was
just after one of my kidneys.
Unknown: I don't blame him. Do you know how much they are worth
on the black market? And feet pics.
I choke momentarily, coughing to recover.
Me: Feet pictures? Is this an insight into your hobbies or line of work?
Unknown: Only sometimes. I don't like my toenails. You probably
wouldn't either.
I have to bury my head into my pillow to hide my smile. No one can see
it, but I'm taken aback by his playfulness, my cheeks flushing scarlet.
When I lift my head to start typing back, I find another message waiting
for me.
Unknown: Oh no. I've scared you off. If it helps, I'll paint them
whatever color is most relaxing. Maybe a nice pastel green.
Me: If you're going to sell them, I'd suggest red.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Four

When I wake in the morning, I'm horrified to find my pillow has a perfect
outline of my face. My cell is still in my hand, the screen open to my text
messages.
Jordan and I were texting until 4am, when I finally passed out mid-text.
I check the time and discover it's only 10am. I could definitely do with a
few more hours of sleep, but I'm excited to continue messaging Jordan and
check on the weather situation.
I make a quick detour to the bathroom, scrolling through the messages on
my cell. I re-read our texts, mesmerized by how funny this guy is. Jake had
a good sense of humor, but his jokes weren't really funny to me. His idea of
trying to make me laugh was to steal my cell and hide it, or pretend to eat
the last of my food. I used to think maybe I was just a prude, but now I'm
believing we just didn't have the perfect chemistry.
Sometimes, we want something so bad that we'll do anything to make it
fit into a box. I guess that says more about our character though. I bent and
molded myself to Jake, tried to follow his interests so that he felt seen.
Knock knock.
"Are you in there, Sky?"
Jesus, fuck.
My cell flips out of my hands and I just manage to catch it. Thick thighs
save lives… which is a relief since my hand coordination skills aren't overly
on par this early in the morning.
"Yep! I'm done. Just give me a minute," I shout back to Blaise, putting
my cell on the basin while I finish up.
When I open the bathroom door, Blaise is leaning against the hallway
wall, waiting patiently. I'll never understand how someone looks so together
in the mornings when it takes me at least two coffees, a shower and a dark
sacrifice to look half-decent.
"You look tired this morning," he points out with a smirk, looking me up
and down. I'm disheveled, living up to my hot mess reputation.
"I know," I groan, rubbing my face. "I went to bed at 4am."
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Why so late? Or early?"
I'm tempted to lie or give a lame excuse but Blaise just looks at me,
pausing.
"Ahh… you were texting your mystery man."
"What?" I gasp. "No, I wasn't."
Blaise lets out a hearty laugh, pushing past me to the bathroom. "You
have that stupid smile on your face again. Work on your lies. You're shit at
it."
The bathroom door closes behind him, the sound of his laughing now
echoing around the tiles. I quickly head into my bedroom, closing the door
behind me. I lean on it for support, gazing down at my cell in my hand.
I'm in trouble, aren't I?

After successfully getting dressed and brushing the bird's nest on top of my
head, I emerge with my head held high into the living room.
There's no sign of Blaise around, so my shoulders relax, and I head into
the kitchen to source some coffee.
I'm relieved to find a fresh pot on the stove, and decide to let Blaise off
the hook for his comment. I'm pretty easy to win over, and I guess that's my
downfall.
Heading into the living room with my hot mug, I switch on the television
to suss out the weather situation. Apparently, it's not much better today but
they forecast it could ease up as early as tomorrow.
When a text message notification appears on my screen, I forget about the
weather, hastily opening it with excitement. I'm quickly disappointed to find
it's Marco, and I join the club of ever growing women that probably feel the
same about him.
Marco: I need you in tomorrow. Don't be late. 9am.
I flip my cell the bird, my day immediately ruined by Marco Barfo, as
kindly dubbed by Blaise. Feeling petty, I change his name in my contact list
to that.
Well, at least I can stay inside today. That's a plus. I've been meaning to
tidy up my bedroom and rearrange a few things. Hell, maybe I can look for
a new job too.
My train of thought is momentarily interrupted by a knock at the front
door, and I'm frozen in disbelief. It's pouring outside, so I have no idea who
would be here.
"I'll get it," I call out to Blaise, who hangs his head out of his bedroom
door, equally confused.
I don't know why, but part of me wonders if it might be you-know-who.
Pulling open the door, I kindly remind myself that I'm an idiot.
Standing on our front porch under an umbrella is a police officer, looking
unimpressed about being on duty in the rain.
"Hi," I greet politely.
"Are you Skylar Nixon?" he asks bluntly.
I swear my heart stalls in a mini-attack, before I quickly realize what this
conversation is going to be about.
"I am," I confirm. "Is this about my car?"
The police officer nods. "Well, it's good to see you escaped unscathed.
That was my first question."
"Alive and kicking," I mutter sarcastically. "Is she still floating on Saint
View Road?"
He nods again. "Did you call a tow truck?"
"I had no service signal," I tell him sheepishly. "And I was kind of
stranded inside for a short while. I was going to get it all sorted today."
"Right," he says dryly. "I hate to be the bad guy here, but you will need to
get your vehicle removed as a matter of priority. I understand the water is
making it difficult, but you'll need to act now. If the water gets higher, it's
likely your vehicle will be swept into the creek. If the water does drop,
you'll be impacting traffic flow."
"I understand," I mutter. "I'll call someone."
The police officer scribbles something on a card, handing it to me. "This
is my badge number, name, and the station contact number. If you have any
issues with removal, report it. Otherwise, I trust it will be taken care of."
He doesn't wait for my response, disappearing back into the rain. I sigh,
closing the door behind him.
Turning around, I jump slightly, spotting Blaise behind me.
"Jesus. How long were you standing there?" I ask him with my hand on
my chest.
"The entire time. You really need to work on your self-awareness. I could
have been a serial killer."
"In our own house? In the rain? Yeah…"
He smiles, giving me the stern look which says a lecture is coming. "Do
you want me to get the number of a tow truck service?"
"I can Google it," I murmur. "I'll call around and get some quotes."
"Where on Saint View is it?" he asks.
I think back, trying to remember my surroundings. "The little crossing
that goes over the river. Where the road dips."
"Got it," he says, turning around and heading to his bedroom with an air
of authority.
I chase after him in a panic. "Blaise, what are you doing?" I yell.
He looks over his shoulder, giving me a small grin before slamming the
bedroom door closed in my face.
I pound my fists on it, listening for a response. When I hear his voice
though, it's not to me.
"Yes, hi. I need to organize a tow truck to collect a washed out vehicle on
Saint View Road. Yes, that's fine. I'll pay over the phone."
"Blaise!" I call out again, trying the handle in desperation.
He hasn't locked the door, and when I push it open, I yelp when I find
him standing at the doorway. He puts his free hand on the doorframe,
blocking me from entering. The cell is still attached to his ear as he listens
to the other person on the line.
"Yep, that's fine. Take it to Wheatley's on Beachton Avenue. My buddy is
a mechanic there. I'll let them know to expect it. My card number is…"
 Locking eyes with him, I plead with him to stop, but he just smirks back,
knowing I'm broke and pathetic.
"Okay, thanks."
Lowering the cell from his ear, he tilts his head. "Yes?"
"You're unbelievable," I mutter. "I don't know whether to hug you or
punch you."
"Aw, I love you too. I love a good threat in the morning. How's your head
this morning, by the way?"
I groan. "Shut up. And thank you. But shut up. You're impossible."
"I know," he agrees.
"Blaise," I start, giving him a sad glance. "I can't afford a tow truck. Let
alone the repair costs right now."
He nods sympathetically. "I know. It's fine. We will work it out. But let's
see what the damage is first before we go into full panic mode."
"I'm serious, Blaise. I'll pay you back for the tow truck when I get paid
next week. But don't authorize any repairs, please."
The expression on his face changes, the playful taunting disappearing as
he opens the door fully. "Look, Sky. I know things are tough at the moment
for you. I have the means to help. That's what friends do. You'd do the same
for me."
"Of course I would," I confirm. "But I feel bad."
"Shit happens. Honestly, we have to just ride it out together. Let's just get
the car out of the street so you don't get fined. My friend, Harry, works at
the repair shop. I'll give him a call and see what he says. At least that way, if
there are significant repairs, we'll probably be able to get them cheaper or I
can work out a deal with them on your behalf."
I decide to engage one of the options, leaning in to give him a hug.
"Thanks, Blaise. I really appreciate you."
"Just remember… you can always do my boring admin work if you feel
guilty."
"Nice try," I say, ripping back. "Do your own admin work, business boy."
Laying on my bed, I go back into my text messages, ignoring Marco Barfo.
I send a quick message to Jordan, apologizing for falling asleep.
Jordan: That's no problem. I kept you up a bit late, didn't I?
Me: Do you even sleep? Stop texting back so quickly. It's weird.
Jordan: Sure. I slept between 4am and 9am. I'm just doing a quick
workout before I head to work. And what do you mean weird? Should I
ignore you for a few days before replying? Girls love being left on read,
right?
I snort, quickly typing back a reply.
Me: Depends on what your intentions are. I thought you were just
going to check up on me.
Jordan: I am checking up on you. But I'd feel more comfortable if we
could do it in person. Just so I can make sure you haven't been kidnapped
or hacked. I could be talking to a scammer from Nigeria right now, for all
I know.
Me: Surely my texting skills are much better than a Nigerian scammer?
Jordan: I dunno. AI is pretty advanced now. Perhaps you should send
me a picture to confirm it's you.
Frowning, I touch my hair to check for knots. I definitely look better than
yesterday, but still, I'm not sure he's ready for morning Skylar.
Me: You might not recognize me. I'm not wet like I was yesterday.
As soon as I hit send, I immediately regret it. I'm entering into dangerous
territory. I see the bubbles pop up and cover my eyes in embarrassment.
Jordan: You looked stunning yesterday, even if you were wet. I'm pretty
fond of wet things. Here, I'll go first.
My mouth parts as I read his message, before a photo of him drops into
the chat. It looks like he's in his garage, sitting on a bench with weight and
gym equipment surrounding him. He's kept it quite modest, but I can still
see little beads of sweat on his shoulders, the tops of his strong muscles
barely visible.
I feel my cheeks flush again and before I can stop myself, I snap a quick
picture and send it back. I'm tempted to fling my cell across the room, but I
wait…
Jordan: You're absolutely beautiful. Breathtaking even. Still, there
could be a kidnapper behind the screen so I'll need to check in person.
How does dinner tomorrow sound?
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Five

"Wow, you actually managed to get here on time," Marco snorts

sarcastically as I enter the warehouse.
"Lucky for you, the rain has stopped so the water has rescinded slightly,"
I bite back, shoving my shit into the locker.
"Lucky for me?" he repeats, letting out a laugh. "Please. I sign your
paychecks, Lana."
I slam the locker closed, turning to face him. "It's Skylar, Marco. You're
not being funny by deliberately getting it wrong."
"Wow, you're in a mood. Must be that time of the month," he shoots back,
stalking off to his office.
I wait for him to leave, muttering a curse under my breath. Men who use
periods as an attack are the lowest kind of scum. It's no wonder he's single.
He's utterly repulsive.
Realizing I have no idea where I need to head today, I can only assume
it's the damn bridal section again. I don't bother to ask him, instead just
heading there with my head held high.
Surprisingly, it doesn't bother me too much today. I'm in a good mood.
My car is currently at Wheatley's being assessed. As much as I'm nervous
about costs, at least I won't get a fine from the police. And the window can
be put back up.
 Blaise was kind enough to drive me to work, but he gave me a lecture
about quitting. I had to stop him from coming inside the warehouse to see
Marco for himself. It was funny to see, putting me in a good mood for the
shift.
And most of all… I have a dinner date this evening.
It worked out really well. Since the rain has stopped, Nathan is heading
over to our house tonight to see Blaise. I'm sure they will both be relieved
to be able to have some peace and quiet without me invading their space.
I can't remember the last time I had a first date. They always make me
nervous. It would have been Jake, but we had already met at the local
tavern one night. We had spent hours talking and playing darts before I
finally gave him my number. But this feels different.
Jordan saw a really rough side of me — the drowned version. And if our
text messages are any indication of the chemistry we might have in person
under normal circumstances, I'm excited.
I may have gone to bed late again last night. But we started playing a
little game of twenty questions, and I was eager to learn more about him
before our date.
Turns out he works in the corporate world, working as a manager who
oversees several offices for a large accounting firm. He partially works
from home, but also travels around the area to work onsite when doing
office visits. Thankfully, with all the rain, he was back home in St. Devil's
Creek. He was meant to be in another town this week about half hour away,
but the wild weather literally put him in my direction.
I like to think that life has a funny way about divine intervention. Even if
the date goes terribly wrong, he was where I needed him to be when I tested
a new career path as a submarine driver.
The bridal section looks almost identical to how I left it two days ago. I'm
not surprised though — we are dangerously understaffed. It's like a
revolving door here and there's an obvious key reason for that…
I get started on my work, putting my playlist on as I decorate myself in
glitter again.
Everything goes well, with the shift passing by quickly, until Marco
decides to come back for round two.
"What are you doing in the bridal section?" he snarls, looking at the
boxes surrounding me.
"Working," I retort back. "Why?"
 He lifts his head up, a flare of arrogance smelling up the room. "I wanted
you in another section today. Now we're going to be behind so you'll have
to stay back."
Putting the scanner down gently, I turn my attention to him. "And where
was I supposed to be?"
There's a brief flash of panic in his eyes as he tries to think of a random
department. Let's be honest — we both know I was scheduled for the bridal
department again. He just hates that it's not affecting me like he wanted.
"The kitchen appliances," he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the
world.
Ahh. The misogynistic man wants me in the kitchen. How shocking.
"Well, like you said, we're short staffed," I start. "And we're behind in
bridal, so I think I'm doing you a favor. Perhaps, you could go into the
kitchen section and sort it out."
First rule of 'alpha men': Never tell them to go into the kitchen. That's a
land of forbidden sandwiches.
"I'm the owner and manager," he spits back, reminding me of my place. "I
don't pack boxes. That's your job."
I laugh. "Maybe you should pay your staff better and you'd have better
luck at not being understaffed."
"I could fire you," he threatens. "For insubordination and talking back.
You need to respect me."
Crossing my arms, I challenge my inner-Blaise. "I don't need to do shit,
Marco. Like you said, we're understaffed. You need me way more than I
need you. If you want to fire me, then go right ahead. And I'm not staying
back. I have plans."
I wait for his reply, calling his bluff. He considers it for a moment, jaw
twitching at my sheer audacity to defy him.
"I expect you back here tomorrow for another shift," he finally barks out,
turning on his heel and leaving.
Rolling my eyes, I continue packing orders, shaking my head. Every
shift, Blaise's offer is looking more enticing.
"How was it?" Blaise asks as I slide into the passenger seat. "Did you tell
him to fuck off?"
"Kind of," I tell him, much to his surprise. "He threatened to fire me."
Blaise slams his hands on the steering wheel in shock. "Wait… you
actually gave him attitude? I'm so proud."
"I think I need a Xanax now," I groan, clicking my seatbelt into place.
"My heart is still racing from doing it. I hate confrontation so much."
We exit the parking lot, my eyes wearily checking the water levels as we
cruise back home.
"But at least he knows you're not a pushover," Blaise praises. "Good for
you."
I nod. "He wanted me to work late but I said no."
"Ooh, yes. The hot date with your rescue man," Blaise grins. "What time
is he picking you up?"
Turning my face away from him to hide my awkwardness, I tap my
fingers on my knee. "6pm. He's working until 5pm. What time is Nathan
heading over?"
"He'll be over around 5:30pm. We'll order some takeaway and watch a
movie. Am I expecting you home tonight?"
My neck cracks with how fast I turn to look at him. "Why wouldn't you?
It's just a first date. Nothing is going to happen."
"Okay," he says defensively. "I was just checking."
"People don't have sex on the first date, Blaise," I argue. "Isn't there like a
three date golden rule or something?"
He nods slowly. "Sure… a few decades ago. Welcome to the new era,
sweetheart. I'd probably shave just in case."
I look at my legs. "They aren't too bad."
"I wasn't referring to your legs," he mutters under his breath. My mouth
drops as I slap his arm.
"Stop it. Focus on your own date."
 Blaise grins at me before turning his eyes back to the road. "Why do you
think I said it? I'm always prepared."

"I don't know what to wear…" I mutter to myself, flinging clothes across
the room. "Do I wear a dress? You're supposed to wear a dress to dinner.
But it's freezing. I can't wear jeans, can I? Fuck!"
The door creaks open, Blaise's voice scaring me. "Are you talking to
yourself again?"
"AHH!" I accidentally fling a cardigan at him, whacking him in the face.
"Don't do that!"
"Far out. You're in a panic again," he says, brushing the cardigan to the
floor. "You've already met the guy. Chill out."
My hands poise themselves on my hips. "I can't. I don't remember how to
date properly. I'm old and decrepit."
"Easy," he replies in a warning tone. "We're the same age."
"Yeah, it's easy for you. You already have a boyfriend. This might be my
only chance and I could blow it."
Blaise snorts. "If you blow something, you could go either way."
Dropping my hands and my face, I glare at him. "You're not helping.
Out."
"Alright," he says with a laugh. "But wear a dress. It will accentuate your
figure."
I watch as he leaves the room, closing the door behind him. A dress? I
guess I could wear pantyhose with it and a nice jacket.
Fishing through my dresses, I grab a simple black dress with spaghetti
straps. I lay it on the bed, searching for pantyhose when I come across some
lingerie I had purchased for Jake. It's just a modest bra and panty set, with a
garter to hold up thigh high stockings. I only ever wore it once because
when I showed him, he laughed, telling me it reminded him of holiday ham
with all the lace and straps. It was enough for me to shove it back into the
drawer and never look at it again. I had thought I looked amazing in it, but
he made me doubt myself.
 Do it. Fucking do it…
Closing the drawer, I shake my head, venturing into the bathroom. I
couldn't wear it.
Could I?
I take a quick shower, reluctantly shaving as a precaution. I have no
expectations of anything, but I at least deserve to feel good tonight.
When I'm finished, I hastily run back to my bedroom, hearing Nathan's
voice at the front door. Slamming my bedroom door closed, I shift through
my underwear selection again, my fingers brushing over the lingerie.
It's a matching set. I should at least keep it consistent.
I pull out the bra and panties, opting not to wear the garter or suspenders.
The stockings have a sticky band to hold themselves up around my thighs,
so I say a silent prayer that they don't roll down, slipping the undergarments
on.
Wiggling into the dress, I take a quick look in the mirror, impressed with
what I see. I don't look half-bad. Once I sort out my hair and makeup, I
think I'll look quite nice.
Checking the time, I rush as best as I can with applying some makeup —
highlighting my eyes with winged liner, mascara and blue eyeshadow. I
always choose green or blue eyeshadow to make my green eyes pop, before
throwing a brush through my hair.
My blonde hair is quite long, reaching mid-back. I leave it out, slipping
the cardigan I had flung at Blaise over my shoulders.
I'm not sure I trust stilettos right now, so I grab a pair of black knee-high
boots, slipping them on right as I hear a knock at the door. It's muffled from
my bedroom but I panic again, realizing that since Nathan is already here, it
has to be Jordan.
"Fuck… fuck," I mutter, taking a deep breath. "You can do this."
"Skylar!" Blaise calls out, making me cringe.
I should have warned Jordan that he was rolling up to my house and
meeting two other guys. He probably already thinks I live in a damn frat
house.
Collecting my cell and purse, I walk out of the bedroom and head to the
front door.
I spot Nathan first, lingering awkwardly behind Blaise. He gives me the
side-eye, but also a brief smile — probably happy for the opportunity to
have alone time with his partner.
 As I step out from the hallway, my eyes immediately find Jordan at the
front door. I let out a sigh of relief to find he's dressed up too — wearing a
dark blue suit with a white button-up shirt underneath. The jacket is open
and there's no tie, making me relax a little at his composure.
"Wow," he breathes out, spotting me. "I was wondering what version I'd
get."
I laugh, the nerves already vanishing. "I decide to retire the drowned siren
look for tonight. I've probably already traumatized you enough."
Jordan grins, putting his hand in his jacket pocket. "Both looks are
intriguing and I'm honored for the variety."
Glancing down, I finally take notice of Blaise. He gives me a quick wink
of approval, nodding his head towards the door.
"Off you go," he ushers. "Enjoy yourself."
"Thanks," I smile. "You too. See you, Nathan," I add, trying to make him
feel included.
Nathan gives a little half wave, the door closing behind me as I step out
onto the porch.
Jordan offers me his elbow, which for a second, confuses me. I gingerly
take it, letting him walk me down the steps and pathway.
I spot his Durango waiting for us, the nerves back, hindering me from
speaking.
"I hope you're hungry," he says, opening the passenger side door for me.
"I know I am."

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Six

"This is a really new restaurant," I remark, looking around.

I haven't been to La Cacciatore before but I'm a sucker for Italian cuisine.
It's always been too expensive for me and I've never had a reason to
splurge.
I managed to bring a crisp fifty dollar bill with me that I had kept in my
underwear drawer for emergencies, but as I gazed over the menu, I
panicked that it might not be enough for my share.
"It's amazing here," Jordan says. "Their pasta is really delicious, but also
they have these amazing shared platters. Would you like to get one with
me?"
"Sure," I reply slowly, closing the menu. "I'm happy to go with the flow."
Our waiter comes over and before I can speak, Jordan takes charge,
ordering a bottle of wine and some shared appetizers. When the waiter
walks away to put our order in, he turns to me with a slight alarmed look.
"I'm so sorry. I should have asked if white wine was okay. I can change
it."
I smile. "White is perfect actually. I've never been able to handle red very
well."
"Me either," Jordan laughs. "So, we have the same coffee order, and the
same preference for wine. I wonder what else we have in common."
 We're in the corner half-booth, the dark maroon velvet seats, oddly
comfortable. We're not quite across from each other, but there's still a small
gap between us.
"I'm interested in finding out," I say genuinely.
"Me too," Jordan replies, looking at the waiter as he places a bucket of
ice next to the table. I watch mesmerized as he pops open the bottle,
perfectly pouring two glasses for us.
Jordan reaches for them, handing me mine. "To new beginnings," he
murmurs, locking eyes with me. "And dry weather."
Laughing, I tap our glasses together. "Definitely dry weather. But yes, to
new beginnings."
The wine is smooth on my tongue, little hints of fruit blazing my senses.
It's probably the nicest wine I've ever tasted — and the most expensive. The
closest I've come to expensive wine is a few glasses of champagne at my
cousin's wedding a few years ago.
"So, tell me," Jordan says, leaning his elbow on the table as he watches
me closely. "What is there to know about you?"
"Not much really," I mutter, cringing at myself. "I'm stuck at a dead-end
job, away from home, and my car does not turn into a submarine. It's pretty
morbid."
His eyes sparkle with laughter. "My car doesn't turn into a submarine
either. Look at us, so much in common."
I can't help but relax at his words. He has a way of making me feel at
ease, despite us being on two very different levels. "I do have a university
degree though. I just haven't really used it yet."
"Oh? Let me guess… business major."
"What?" I gasp. "How did you know?"
Jordan lets out a deep laugh. "I'm also a business major. I was lucky to
secure this job. It just kind of fell into my lap at the right time. Divine
timing and all."
He trails off but I continue to stare at him, dazed. He notices my silence,
pausing, as if questioning his words. "Did I say something wrong?"
"No," I quickly say, reassuring him. "I just like to think things happen for
a reason too. I think that's amazing you've landed such a great job. You're
obviously very successful and you enjoy it."
He frowns. "You don't enjoy it?" he asks, picking up on my undertone. I
didn't mean to make it so obvious, but after Marco's tantrum today, I was
still annoyed.
"My boss is an asshole," I tell him. "He's pretty hellbent on making my
existence miserable. And at the moment, there's not a huge amount of
opportunities available. But I'm sure something will pop up."
Jordan nods. "Absolutely. What about your roommate? You mentioned in
our texts he works at home."
"Mm!" I quickly swallow my mouthful of wine. "He owns an IT
consulting business. Mainly creating websites and stuff. Actually if I'm
being honest, he offered me a job. But I didn't think it was a good idea."
"Why not?" he questions, intrigued. "You'd get to work from home too.
Plus it sounds like you guys get along well. You wouldn't have an asshole
boss anymore."
I grimace. "Isn't it weird though? Working with friends? What if
something goes wrong?"
Jordan smiles warmly. "Sometimes they make the best working
relationships. You already have a rapport and great communication, and it's
more relaxing. I personally think it can be better for productivity if done
right."
"Blaise keeps telling me I should quit," I start. "I nearly did today. In fact,
that's the whole reason we met. I was coming home from work because my
boss decided my life wasn't worth missing a shift over."
His face darkens. "Seriously? No way. Quit and tell him to shove it. You
don't need that pressure in your life. The only pressure you should
experience should be a good one." His gaze softens again, eyes glinting in
the reflections of the dimmed overhead lights.
"Good pressure? I'm not sure I follow," I laugh, thanking the waiter as he
puts a platter of oysters down in front of us.
Jordan cocks a smile. "I don't think you're ready to follow. At least, not
right now."
I put the wine glass down, shaking my head. "Are you saying I couldn't
handle it?"
"Maybe," he shrugs playfully.
I'm still not entirely sure what we're talking about, but I might be slightly
competitive. "Oh, come on. Try me."
He shakes his head, sipping his wine. "I told myself I'd behave tonight."
My lips form an O as realization dawns on me. I grab my glass so I can
hold onto something, to ground myself. Looking away, I give a little shrug.
"You never know. I could be easily persuaded."
Jordan looks at me in surprise but I don't face him, deliberately playing
with him. I give him a tiny smirk, still without eye contact, sipping my
wine.
He shuffles closer to me, lowering his voice even though we're pretty
secluded from nearby patrons. He leans down to whisper to my ear, his deep
voice sending vibrations down my spine.
"Are you sure you want to go there, Sky? I'd back out now if I were you."
Looking over my shoulder at him, I give him the perfect face of
innocence. "I don't like backing out of anything, Jordan. I thought we
established that."
His eyebrows shoot up in unison as he quickly polishes off his glass.
"Very well then. I'm interested to see how far this control of yours goes."
"My control?" I interject, pausing as his hand moves on top of my thigh. I
tense up, trying not to look like a deer caught in headlights. No one in the
restaurant has bothered to look over at us, but I'm worried they will hear the
sound of my heart beating heavily in my chest.
"Last chance," Jordan warns, his hand sliding up my stockings towards
the edge of my dress.
I swallow, trying to play it cool. "Do your worst. I can take it."
Famous last words.
Jordan grips my thigh, pulling my legs apart slightly. My eyes widen as I
realize this is actually happening. I don't know what's come over me, but I
don't want him to stop.
With my thighs now apart, his hand glides up my inner thigh, his fingers
brushing appreciatively over the top of the stockings before scaling up
further to my lace panties.
His fingers don't hesitate to pull the delicate fabric to the side, exposing
me under the table. I silently gasp, quickly taking a drink to cover my
reaction.
Jordan puts his free arm behind my head along the booth top, keeping our
faces close together. "I want you to do something for me," he says with a
deep rumble.
"What's that?" I breathe out.
He nods towards the table. "Pick up an oyster and try it."
My eyebrows furrow together but I reach forward, picking one up.
Slowly, I open my mouth, tipping my head back. Just as I start to swallow,
Jordan's finger slides between my folds.
I let out a jagged moan, quickly swallowing the oyster.
"That's it," he says, smiling warmly. "Enjoy it. They taste really good."
"They do," I agree, my face heating up.
He pushes his hand against me firmer, his finger finding my entrance as
his palm brushes my clit. It takes every single ounce of control to stay still
and quiet, as his finger slides inside my warmth.
"Fuck," he hisses under his breath, making me clench. "You're so fucking
tight and wet."
My eyes flutter closed and I take a small breath before reaching for
another oyster. "You should try it," I tell him, flirtatiously. "The oyster, I
mean."
I offer it to his lips, his eyes flashing at me. His soft pink lips part, head
tipping back as I pour it into his mouth. At the same time, he jolts his finger
deeper inside of me, my body stiffening as I fight the urge to lose control.
"You're right," he mutters, sliding his finger in and out of me. "I definitely
needed to try it."
"How about a second one?" I ask, grabbing another oyster.
Jordan smirks. "That's a really great idea."
I can't muffle the gasp as he pushes a second finger inside of me, my
body tightening around him. I down the oyster myself, doing my best to
fight the blazing sensation that's starting to rip me apart from the inside out.
My body clenches around him again as I swallow the oyster, my eyes
closing when his thumb finds my clit.
I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to fight this sensation, my
whole body shuddering from his touch. We could get caught at any
moment. And frankly, any fucks I have are no longer in the room.
His thumb circles my clit slowly as his two fingers slide in and out of my
body, my thighs squeezing his hand in a viselike grip. He presses a soft kiss
to the nape of my neck, whispering to me.
"I want to kiss you so bad right now. Are you going to come for me?
Right here, right now?"
I shake my head. "Nope," I tell him defiantly. It's bullshit — we both
know it. But I'm too lost in the game, having too much fun. The physical
chemistry is on another level, one I've never experienced before in my life.
I never would have expected to do this. But here I am, and I'm ready to
burn down in flames.
 "Hmm," he hums, pausing his actions. "Maybe you're right. We should
stop."
Slowly, he removes his hand, a small gasp of shock spilling from my lips.
I'm aching, desperate for release, and he knows it. But he's calling my bluff,
showing me that he has the upper hand.
Crossing my legs, I do my best to ignore the screams of my body, the
frantic need for him to touch me again. Just in time too, as the waiter comes
over to check on us.
"How is everything going, Sir?" he asks Jordan.
Jordan's arm around my back reaches down, his fingers stroking my
exposed shoulder. "Everything is great so far. But…" he pauses, looking at
me. "Didn't you just say we had to go?"
I look at him bewildered. There's a glint in his eyes, and I realize he's
leaving it up to me to decide my fate. We can stay here and have a delicious
dinner date, while I suffer in silence. Or we can go and finish what we
started.
It's kind of nice that he's leaving that up to me, but also… it's a power
move. There's no winners now, no easy decision. If we stay, we both suffer.
If we leave, we both get our way but it means I've given in to him.
Let's be honest though — he already has me.
Turning back to the waiter, I nod in confirmation. "Can we get our food
boxed up to go, please? We have a pressing matter to deal with."

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 Chapter Seven

Street lights pass us by, sporadically illuminating Jordan's hand on my leg

as he strokes my thigh while driving. I struggle to stay composed, watching
the houses pass by as we travel to the other side of town.
When he gets no reaction from me, pulls his hand back, leaving a blaze of
fire along my skin.
I gaze at him from out of the corner of my eye, watching in sheer
disbelief and amazement as he lifts his hand to his mouth, popping his
index finger inside. He doesn't stray his attention away from the road, and if
it wasn't for the fact I know where his hand had been, the action would
almost seem innocent.
His lips seal around his finger as he slowly glides down to the tip. When
his hand falls away, he turns to look at me briefly, face stoic as he nods.
"You're right. Definitely fucking delicious."
Holy fucking shit.
Well, two can play that game I decide. Reaching over, I place my hand on
his hard thigh, just resting it in place at first. When he makes no effort to
move me, I slide my hand further inward until I find his cock pressing
against the constraints of his pants.
He hisses slightly, caught off guard and I smirk to myself. I rub my hand
gently over him, watching as his knuckles tighten around the steering
wheel.
 "You're playing a dangerous game, firefly."
"Am I?" I ask with a small laugh. "Sounds like fun."
He smiles, eyes reflecting in the street lights. "Don't say I didn't warn
you."
It's a threat — or a promise — but the truth is, this is the most fun I've
had in months. Even with Jake, I never felt such a strong physical
connection to someone. This has hit me out of left field, shaking every
single belief I have.
Jordan makes me want to push limits, explore things in ways I never
knew existed. It's a high I need in this difficult time, and despite all my
initial reservations, maybe Blaise is right. We're in a different era now.
We're adults, and humans, with needs and wants. We should be allowed to
do what we want within reason. And even if I don't have a reason beyond
just wanting this, who am I hurting?
Maybe there's a reason why they say when one door closes, another one
opens. Maybe the universe is finally giving me a chance to shine. Don't they
say bad luck happens in sets of three?
Break up with Jake… car turning into submarine… shitty job burning
down in flames.
The universe was giving me the green light to take a new adventure. And
I was down for it.
We pull into a modest two-story house, perfect hedges shielding the front
porch from view of the street. The garage automatically opens up when
Jordan hits a fob in the center console, and we slowly pull inside. As the
garage door closes behind us, my heart starts racing again.
This is it. Time to put all that forced courage and competitive words to
the test.
Jordan unclips his seatbelt, angling his body to look at me. "I still haven't
kissed you yet," he murmurs, fingers releasing my seatbelt from the clasp.
"Then what are you waiting for?" I reply quietly as nerves start to remind
me that I'm not as strong as I pretend to be.
He cups the side of my face, his lips finding mine a fraction of a second
later. He kisses me fervently, like a dying man desperate for his last meal.
A hand snakes its way around my waist, lifting me up on the seat to turn
me toward him. I'm a dangling mess in his grip, but the way he kisses me
makes me forget about anything rational.
 My hand finds the gear stick and I hold it for balance as his hand slides
up the side of my dress, hitching the material up my thigh.
Suddenly, he pulls back, breaking the kiss. He leans his forehead against
mine, catching his breath. "I think we should go inside."
I nod rapidly in agreement, sliding back into my seat. "Okay."
He smiles at me, reaching for the door handle as he steps out of the car. I
go to reach for my own, but I spot him walking around the front of the car,
grabbing the door for me.
Stepping out, I smile appreciatively at him, letting him take my hand as
he leads me to the internal door to the house.
The door opens with his push, and I'm immediately greeted by the
kitchen — the sparkling dark tiles and neatly presented area looking
homely. In the dark corner, I spot large floor to ceiling windows and a
television. We head through the kitchen in the opposite direction to a
staircase.
Without letting go of my hand, he starts pulling me up the carpeted
staircase, the steps bending around halfway up to take us to the second
floor.
The gray carpeted floor is immaculate and I feel bad for keeping my
shoes on, but he doesn't seem to share my same sentiments as he guides me
to a set of double doors at the end of the hallway.
Before we reach them, he suddenly grabs my waist, pivoting me into the
wall. He pushes his body against me as his lips find mine again, and we
become locked into another tongue battle as his hands push my dress up
past the top of my stockings.
"I want you so bad, Skylar," he murmurs against my lips. "You're making
me crazy."
"I feel the same," I admit, tipping my head to the side as his mouth locks
onto my neck.
He growls, hand reaching out for the door handle as he feverishly attacks
my throat with his lips.
The room is dark as we enter, except for the faint reflection of town lights
below. I'm pulled away in fascination momentarily, as I gaze out his large
windows to see the sparkling mark of St. Devil's Creek in the distance. His
house is on a hill, overlooking the town below. If I look hard enough, I can
even see the aptly named creek glistening in the distance.
 "Do you like it?" he asks, kissing my neck when he notices my attention
is on the window.
I close my eyes, distracted by him once again. Nodding, I reach behind,
eager to touch him anywhere I can reach. "It's beautiful."
"Not as beautiful as you," he whispers, spinning me around. Our mouths
connect and his hands stroke my arms, trailing up to my straps. He rolls
them down my shoulders, gently pulling the dress down my body.
When the material hits the floor with a small thud, he lets out a hum of
appreciation, taking in my lingerie covered body. I don't have any time to
react or feel embarrassment — he doesn't let me. He drops to his knees in
front of me, kissing my stomach as his fingers play with the sides of my
panties.
Letting go of them, he reaches for my boots, helping me slip them off.
When they are in a discarded heap on the floor, he runs his hands up the
sides of my stockings, finding the tops of them. Jordan rolls them down my
legs one after another, flinging them behind him as he kisses my knees and
thighs.
I expect him to undress me completely, but he doesn't. He stands up,
lifting me up in his strong hold as he walks us over to his king sized bed. I
grab his shoulders for support before I'm laid down on the soft mattress. He
stands above me, removing his jacket as he throws it to the side.
Slowly, he starts undoing his shirt buttons, locking eyes with me. "I knew
you were something special from the very first second we met."
I laugh softly. "Special is accurate, given the circumstances."
He smiles in response, pulling his shirt off in its entirety. I'm left
speechless as his toned frame — something I had already imagined from
the pictures we had shared by text. It's even better in person and more
divine than I could have pictured.
Leaning down, he holds himself over me, his hands on either side of my
head. "You're really something amazing, Sky. I can't wait to show you just
how much."
Moving back, he places a soft kiss to my sternum, then through my bra
over my nipples. A small moan escapes my lips and I reach for him, but he
grabs my hands, pinning them beside me on the bed.
Trailing a path down my torso, he kisses my hip bones, fingers entwining
in the sides of my panties again. This time, he pulls them down, giving
himself a first hand look at the mess he caused.
 "Fuck, you're perfect," he groans, fingers spreading me. He immediately
slides two fingers inside me, making my back arch up.
There's no teasing this time as he maneuvers his fingers in and out,
building up the existing tension from our dinner which is still abandoned in
the back of his car. I hear his knees hit the carpeted floor, and suddenly, his
fingers are gone. His arms hook around my knees, pulling me forward
rapidly to the end of the bed.
Before I can process anything, his warm tongue is on my clit, working its
way around my aching pussy. Releasing one arm, his fingers enter me
again, working in unison with his mouth as he groans against my skin.
I'm so worked up that I have no control at all, my orgasm ripping through
me. I cry out his name, thighs clenching around his head as my hips lift
further into his face. He doesn't mind at all, hand digging into me as he
holds me tight, letting me ride out my climax against him.
When I start to come down from the high, he pulls back, a dazzled look
on his face. "You taste better than anything I've ever had in my entire life.
Fuck, I'm going to become addicted to you."
I throw my head back with a soft moan, hearing the movements of his
pants being removed. Panting softly, I sit up so I can get a better look, our
eyes locking before my attention is forced downwards to his cock as it
springs out from his trunks.
"Come here," he says, beckoning me with his hand.
I shuffle down the remaining area of the bed so I can get as close as
possible to him. He strokes his cock, tiny beads of excitement dripping
down the head.
I don't wait for instructions, my hand reaching out to grab him eagerly. I
stroke his shaft, engrossed in the silky feel of him.
He hisses and curses under his breath, head tipping back as he lets me
feel him. Warm hands tangle their way through my hair, holding me as I
glide my palm up and down his length.
Watching him closely, I use my free hand to give him a little nudge in the
abdomen, forcing him to take a step back. As he does, I slide off the bed
onto my knees in front of him, his eyes widening slightly with realization.
With a soft smirk, I look away, my lips parting over his thick head as I
take him into my mouth. He lets out a louder groan, fingers tightening in
my hair as I leisurely take my time going down his cock.
 I can't take all of him and for a moment, it panics me. I could always take
all of Jake with his average length, but if the visual didn't confirm it, this
sure has. Jordan is much bigger than what I'm used to, but I want him, in
every way possible.
I take as much of him as I can, enjoying the small sounds that get caught
in his throat. When I reach out to cup his balls, he jerks, hand releasing my
hair to grab mine.
Without any words, he leans down, wrapping his arm around my back
and lifting me up against him. I wrap my legs around him, our lips finding
each other's again as we fall onto the mattress.
"Don't move," he whispers against my mouth. "Stay right here, firefly."

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 Chapter Eight

Jordan moves off me, walking around the side of the bed to his drawers. I
turn my head, watching with curiosity as he digs inside. I spot a condom
box as he pulls a wrapper from inside, along with a black velvet bag.
Gazing over his shoulder at me, I flush with need as he gives me a telling
smirk. I'm not sure what he has planned, but I bet it has to do with whatever
is in that bag.
Pushing the drawer shut, he heads back to the end of the bed, dropping
the condom wrapper and bag next to my body. Leaning over me, he kisses
me again, tongue pushing inside of my mouth as we taste each other.
I can hear the faint sound of foil crinkling as he removes the condom
from the wrapper, hand sliding along my body as he finds his hard cock
between us. I can feel him pushing the condom on but he doesn't break the
kiss, not even for a single second.
Feeling him shift back, I open my eyes, curious. He pulls out of the kiss,
lifting my legs to either side of his sharp hips.
"I want to watch your face as I feel you for the first time," he murmurs,
holding his cock steady. He presses it against my entrance, and I draw in a
deep breath — from nerves and excitement.
It's happening…
Slowly, I feel him push inside, my body adjusting to his thickness as he
eases in. My mouth falls open silently as my face twists in pleasure, and I'm
intoxicated to find his face does the same. We both moan in unison, a little
hiss escaping from his mouth as he edges inside.
"Fuck," he groans. "You feel so fucking perfect."
When he's fully inside me, he pauses, taking a moment to let it sink in.
My head is already spinning, my body feeling like I'm on a rollercoaster. He
runs his hands along the tops of my thighs, trying to control his breathing.
"It's like your body was made for me," he murmurs, easing his cock out
slightly. He does a little test roll, filling me again and the two of us moan
loudly. It's enough to break his resolve, his torso crashing into mine as he
finds my lips with a passion.
He starts moving his hips, thrusting into me slowly and deeply, letting the
two of us feel everything.
It's like nothing I've ever felt before. I can't explain it. There's something
different about the way we move together, the way we breathe together.
Hiking up my leg against his hip, he leans up, drilling in deeper at a new
angle. I grab his forearms, clinging on for dear life as our hips connect and
reconnect over and over.
I've momentarily forgotten about the black bag next to me until Jordan
reaches down, slowing his movements as he unties the string.
I watch with bated breath as he reaches inside, extracting a blue and
white wand from inside.
Curiosity gets the better of me as I gaze at it, no stranger to sex toys. But
I've never had someone willingly incorporate them as a partner in bed.
Jordan flicks the button, the whirling, buzzing sound coming to life. He
puts a strong hand in the middle of my lower abdomen, holding me still as
he spreads me with his thumb. Placing the vibrating wand on my clit, my
moans fill the room as my hips buck against his hand. He pushes me down
into the mattress, holding me firm as he starts his movements again, his
cock filling me.
Stars fill my eyes as the room spins out of my control, my body shaking
as pleasure consumes me — much like Jordan's presence. As he hits a spot
deep inside of me, another orgasm surprises me, sending me tumbling down
the edge of the virtual cliff.
He growls, muttering "fuck" as my body clenches down around him with
the strength of the Jaws of Life. He presses the wand against me harder, the
vibrations rolling through me so hard that I can feel them in my ribcage.
 "I'm not done with you yet, firefly. I think you have another one in you,"
he murmurs, fucking me harder.
I don't have the capacity to speak, giving him no response as my body
does the talking for me. I'm no longer in control of my body — he is. And
he knows it.
Leaning down, his free hand grabs my lace covered breast, gently
squeezing the swell before pinching my nipple between his thumb and
index finger.
My body tenses up but I try to fight it — a fruitless quest, but I try to hold
onto the last of my non-existent control. I'm not talking about my orgasm,
everything in me seemingly ready to give it over to this man.
"Come for me, Skylar. Don't fight it. Give it to me."
His words send me over the edge again, my screams filling the room as
my back lifts off the bed completely. He catches me with his arm, holding
me flush against him as our bodies hold the wand in place. He doesn't relent
with his thrusts, filling me until the very last second. As soon as he feels me
ease and relax, he lets out a throaty growl, his own body tensing as he
explodes with pleasure.
I open my eyes, watching with sheer astonishment at his twisted face,
starry eyed at his expression knowing I've caused it.
His eyes open slightly, locking with mine as beads of sweat fall down our
faces onto our adjoining bodies. He kisses me heatedly, rolling us to the
side. His cock falls out of me, as well as the wand rolling away, but we keep
kissing, hands threading in each other's hair as our bodies struggle to find
air.
I don't need air — I just need him. And judging by the way he holds me, I
think he feels the same way.
Slowly, our kisses ease, turning into gentle pecks along skin as we lay
facing each other on our sides. Finally, he pulls back, brushing a piece of
stray, sweaty hair from my face.
"You're amazing," he whispers. "Truly amazing."
"Back at you," I murmur, exhaustion creeping over me.
He smiles, cupping my cheek. "Stay with me tonight, please."
I nod, giving him a warm smile behind heavy eyes. "Okay."
Jordan reaches up, pulling the blanket down to expose the fitted sheet.
Pushing up to his knees, he leans down, scooping me up in his arms as he
shuffles up the bed, laying me down on the pillow.
 "I'll be back in one moment," he says, kissing my cheek. I watch as he
heads into an adjoining bathroom, the light blinding me for a second before
the door closes behind him. I know I should get up too, but I don't have the
energy, my body molding into the soft mattress.
He emerges a few minutes later, his naked body still shimmering from the
town lights below as he crawls into the bed next to me. I hear the wand hit
the floor as it rolls off the bed, but neither of us pay it any mind. Jordan
pulls me into his arms, spooning me as I stare out at the lights below.
His lips place small kisses on my shoulder, arms holding me tight, and
before I know it, I've fallen into a deeper sleep than I've known for some
time.

I'm awoken to the smell of eggs, bacon, and coffee. When I'm finally able to
convince myself to open my eyes, I find Jordan standing next to the bed,
looking down at me with a tray of food.
"Good morning, gorgeous," he muses, a bright smile on his face.
It's really not fair how good he looks this early in the morning. I can only
imagine what I look like given our night.
"Morning," I moan, shielding my eyes from the light. I rub them, sitting
up. The sheet falls to my waist and when his eyes scale down my body, I'm
reminded that I'm only dressed in my bra.
That doesn't stop him from undressing my already undressed body
though.
"I grabbed us some breakfast," he tells me, putting the tray down. I look
over, two breakfast wraps perfectly sealed in foiled with two cups of coffee
staring back at me.
"I'm starving. We didn't get to eat dinner last night," I laugh.
Jordan grins. "I ate pretty well last night. But sadly, the oysters are now in
the trash."
I cringe, forgetting about the food in the car. "I'm so sorry. That was
pretty expensive."
 "Don't be," he says, slipping into the bed and handing me a wrap. "It's a
trade off I'd make time and time again."
Smiling as I peel back the foil, I spot eggs, bacon, spinach, and
hollandaise sauce. I take a test bite, my stomach groaning in appreciation.
"This is amazing," I tell him between chews.
He nods. "There's this great little cafe down the street. I wanted to take
you there but I figured sleep was needed. Besides, we can go another
morning."
My heart stills momentarily but I just smile, giving a little nod. "I'd like
that."
Taking a sip of coffee, I grin against the lid of the takeaway cup. Jordan
watches, his own smile breaking across his face. He remembered my coffee
order — not hard since we share the same — but still… it's a nice
sentiment.
"I really hate to seem like an asshole but I have to do some work soon,"
he says.
I nod. "Of course. I completely understand. I'll call an Uber soon."
He holds up his hand. "No, it's okay. I've got a meeting shortly but I've
arranged to do it on the computer. I'll have to go into the office soon though,
so I'll drop you off on my way."
"Did you change your meeting for me?" I ask hesitantly.
Jordan waves his hand, brushing it aside. "It's not an issue, I promise. I
didn't want to rush you. Besides, I'm enjoying your company way too
much."
"That's so sweet of you," I tell him. "But I feel terrible. What time is it
anyway?"
"It's a little past seven," he answers softly. "I don't feel terrible at all."
I smile, before letting out a groan. "I have work too. Gosh, I have to deal
with that asshole again."
Jordan's face hardens. "I'm serious. You should quit. Take your roommate
up on his offer. Besides, if you start working from home, it might mean
more freedom."
"I'll think about it," I respond, talking about the tempting urge to quit.
"Maybe he'll be less of an asshole today. Especially since it's not raining."
"It sounds like he's an asshole regardless of what the weather is like,"
Jordan mutters, taking a bite of his wrap. "Don't let him push you around.
You deserve better."
 We finish breakfast, Jordan giving me a kiss and giving me a quick tour
of his bathroom, including where to find fresh towels.
"I'll just be downstairs in my office for this meeting until 8:15, but if you
want to have a shower, I'll be all yours again soon and we'll head off."
I nod, watching as he disappears from the bedroom. I take my time in the
shower, enjoying his rather large shower head and reluctantly squeeze
myself back into my little black dress.
As I finish getting dressed, Jordan re-enters the bedroom, heading into his
walk-in closet to pull on a business suit. I have to admit, sitting on the edge
of the bed, watching him getting dressed up was something else. There's
just something about a man in a power-suit that makes me feel… things.
He comes to sit on the edge of the bed to put his socks on, and I can't help
but laugh. I was expecting crisp black socks to match his suit, but instead,
he has a pair of avocado socks, the green and blue fabric looking like a mis-
match to the rest of him.
"What?" he asks bewildered. "I have a thing about socks. I think it's fun
to change things up."
Laughing, I nod. "It's definitely something. I like it."
He grins back at me, leaning in for a kiss. "Where am I taking you?"
"Just back home," I say. "I need to get changed for work. I can ask Blaise
to drop me off."
Jordan looks at his watch, doing some mental mathematics. "If we leave
now, I can drop you home and wait. I have time to take you to work."
"I can't ask that of you."
"You're not asking. I'm offering."
I want to say no, scared to be an inconvenience, but there's a greater part
of me that wants to say yes. Finally, I nod slowly with a shy smile. "Okay."
He grins in response, giving me a wink. "Alright then. Let's go, pretty
girl."

"I'll wait here," Jordan says in the Durango, pulling his cell out. "I just have
to make a work call anyway."
 "I won't be long," I tell him, quickly opening the door of his car. "Just
give me five minutes!"
I do a light jog along the footpath, fumbling with my keys on the front
porch. When I finally get the door open, I make a dash to my room,
reaching for my work uniform. Thankfully I've already showered so it's just
a matter of changing.
When I finished pulling on the clothes hastily, I rip open my bedroom
door to find Blaise standing there with a smirk on his face.
"Well, good morning," he grins. "Just getting in?"
I laugh. "And I'm just leaving again for work."
"I take it the date went well?" he asks curiously.
Blushing, I give a curt nod. "It was lovely."
Blaise stretches onto his toes, looking behind me at the discarded dress on
the floor. "I'd say so. I couldn't help but notice you weren't wearing your
stockings."
"Sshh…" I hiss at him, spotting Nathan lingering in his bedroom door
behind him, coming to investigate. "I don't kiss and tell."
"Alright, alright," he relents, holding up his hands. "If you need a lift
from work let me know. I'll chase up any news about your car today too."
"I'd appreciate that," I tell him thankfully, slipping into the hallway.
"Well, I hope you guys have a great day!"
Blaise gives me a little wave as I dash back outside, throwing myself into
the Durango. I don't want to keep Jordan waiting too long — especially
since we are both due at work.
"Ready?" Jordan asks, giving me a smile from the driver's seat.
"All ready."

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Nine

Marco is nowhere to be found when I arrive, and for that, I'm thankful. I'm
in such a good mood today and I don't want him raining on my parade.
I put my belongings in my locker, heading to the kitchen appliance area.
It's probably a stupid idea putting me there — he thinks he's making some
misogynistic stance but in reality, he's putting me near heavy appliances and
sharp knives.
As I start packing, I can't help but notice we're short staffed again. I see
Marco conduct interviews all the time, but even in the desperation of the
economic crisis, it's still not enough to make people want to work here.
Maybe if he tried being nicer… or less sleazy.
My cell dings in my pocket and I reach in, fetching it from inside. I smile
as I spot a text message from Jordan.
Jordan: I'm sitting in a meeting at the moment. Can't stop thinking
about you.
Me: Well, you should try turning your phone off.
Jordan: That's no fun. I want to talk to you. I feel like we didn't get
enough time to talk last night.
I snort at his reply, quickly typing a response.
Me: And whose fault is that?
Jordan: Yours… you looked way too good. Any man would be on his
knees.
 "Not all of them," I mutter to myself, feeling the burn. Despite how
hopeful I am about this possible new adventure with Jordan, it still hurts
about Jake. I wish I could be the type of person who moved on without
closure, but I've never mastered that skill. I guess it's true you can be happy
but still hurt at the same time. It's not that I didn't appreciate my new
situation, but I still had so many unanswered questions which will probably
never come to light.
And if I'm being honest, the way things were left by Jake still haunt me.
I'll never know if it was me — if I said the wrong thing, did the wrong
thing, or just… existed.
Rationally, I know it probably wasn't me. Even if we weren't compatible
or he just simply lost feelings for me, I didn't deserve that. A normal person
should be able to communicate that. In an ideal world, breakups should be a
nice goodbye, a farewell to good times.
But still — I can't help but hold onto those insecurities, scared that
history will repeat itself. And the last thing I want is to self-sabotage. It's
what I do best sometimes.
"Get off your phone," a voice growls, making me jump.
I look up, spotting Marco lurking between the shelves. He's glaring at me,
obviously still pissed about my backbone from yesterday. I slowly put my
cell into my pocket, doing my best to keep my composure.
"Good morning, Marco," I tell him pleasantly. "What can I do for you?"
Marco steps into my section, arms folded. "I don't pay you to be on your
phone. I pay you to work."
Clenching my teeth, I just nod. I can feel my good mood slipping, and I'll
be damned if he's going to ruin my day after I had the most amazing night.
"Noted. It's gone now."
Marco grinds his jaw, obviously hoping for a fight. "Good. I've adjusted
your KPIs for the day. Here," he says, thrusting a sheet of paper at me.
I take it gingerly, scanning the contents. My eyes widen at the unrealistic
figures. It would take me at least two days to hit these targets — which is
saying something considering I'm pretty fast with my orders.
"And this is for today?" I question.
He nods, fighting back a smirk. "And if you can't meet your targets, we
will have to discuss performance. Alternatively, you'll have to just stay late
until you finish."
 "This isn't possible," I tell him, thrusting the paper back at him. "No one
could do it."
"Well, you better try. We're going to be adjusting the pay rates based on
the new KPIs. It will no longer be an hourly wage. Pay will be done by
performance."
I cross my arms. "Marco, that's illegal."
"I don't think it is," he retorts. "If you have a problem with it, you can
leave."
I take a moment to look around at all the unpacked orders, the words of
Blaise and Jordan ringing through my head. I don't need this bullshit. I
already suffer from a constant backache, and the mental stress it adds is not
worth the few dollars I earn per hour.
"Fine," I snap.
Marco smirks, giving me a nod, thinking that I've finally given in to his
bullshit demands. He goes to turn, ready to exit, when I grab the order form
list.
"Here you go."
He looks at me, pausing in bewilderment as I shove the list into his chest.
Caught off-guard, he stutters as he looks at me. "What are you doing?"
"I quit," I reply simply. "And since those orders are apparently so urgent,
you should probably make a start on them."
"What?!" he bellows. "You can't just quit."
I smile sweetly. "Of course I can. That's the beauty of freedom. Go find
someone else to put up with your bullshit, Marco Barfo. I'm done with it."
He's still lost for words, stuttering and spitting as I walk past him. I
quickly make my way to the locker, making sure to collect all of my
belongings before I take off out the front door. He tries to follow but I'm too
fast for him, immediately heading for the road.
It's probably about an hour's walk home — but I don't mind. The rain has
cleared and while the ground is still muddy, I have boots on. I reach into my
pocket, pulling my cell out as I type a reply back to Jordan as I walk a brisk
pace along the roadside.
Me: Well I did it.
I'm surprised to see the bubbles appear so quickly, like he was waiting for
me to reply.
Jordan: Brought me to my knees? Yes I know. I remember quite fondly.
Laughing, I send back another reply, smiling like an idiot.
 Me: I just quit my job. I'm going to do it. I'll take Blaise up on his offer.
I wait for a reply but nothing comes. Feeling a little disheartened, I go to
slip my cell back into my pocket when suddenly, it starts to ring.
Glancing at the screen, I grin at Jordan's name, blushing before I hit the
accept button.
"Hello?"
"I'm so fucking proud of you," he murmurs down the phone line.
I'm glad no one except passing cars can see me. I'm smiling so brightly
that I could probably dry up the excess water from the storm.
"He wanted to change my pay and KPIs. Just being a real jerk as usual.
So, I told him to do it himself," I exclaim proudly.
"That's my girl," Jordan says, and I quite literally stumble over a rock.
I've stopped paying attention to my surroundings, too infatuated by his
voice.
I clear my throat, ignoring the odd looks from people passing by. "Thanks
for giving me the confidence to do it. It really means a lot."
"You deserve better," he says fondly. "Life's too short to be unhappy, you
know?"
"Yeah," I agree. "I see that now."
Jordan mutters something to someone in the background before his voice
comes back. "Anyway, listen babe. I have to head to another meeting but
I'm so proud of you. What's your plans for tomorrow night? I have a thing
with my buddies this evening, but I'd love to celebrate with you tomorrow."
"I'm a free woman," I tell him, laughing. "So, I'm at your mercy."
"Hmm," he hums. "I hope you are. Well, let's lock some plans into place.
I'll text you later, but for now are you okay?"
I nod, even though he can't see it. "I'm just walking home but I'm fine," I
confirm. "Go and enjoy your meeting. It was great to hear your voice
though."
"You'll be hearing more of it later," he promises, saying goodbye before
ending the call.
When I finally arrive back home nearly an hour later, I'm greeted with a
look of surprise from Blaise and Nathan. They're sitting in the living room,
watching a movie.
"You're home," Blaise points out, a look of confusion on his face. Slowly,
it turns to realization, and his face breaks out in a grin. "You didn't?"
"I did," I tell him sheepishly with a smile.
 He smacks his hands together excitedly, giving me a grin. "About time."
Nathan looks between us, confusion in his blue eyes. "Did what?"
"I quit my job," I tell him, watching as his confusion strengths.
"What? So, now you have no job?"
My gaze flickers back to Blaise, wondering how to steer the conversation.
Blaise puts a hand on Nathan's leg, giving it a squeeze.
"Her boss is a real asshole. I've asked her to help me out. The admin work
is piling up, so hopefully this means I'll have a new staff member on
board…" he looks at me quizzically.
I nod, giving him a smile. "If you'll have me still."
Nathan purses his lips, turning to Blaise. "Is that a good idea?" he asks,
lowering his voice even though he knows I can still hear him. "Working
together with a roommate?"
I've never known someone with as much talent as Nathan. He makes it
sound like a dirty word — as if all of Blaise's regrets will come to life if we
go through with this plan.
"Aw, you worry too much," Blaise says, giving his hand a squeeze. "It
will free me up more for you and I'll be able to take on more clients. I hate
turning people away and it's nearly at that stage."
"Whatever," Nathan mutters indifferently.
Wow — way to kill the mood, Nathan. Blaise gives me a sympathetic
smile, his eyes telling me not to worry about it. I give him a little nod,
heading to my bedroom. At this moment, the best thing I can do is give
them space. I know it's Blaise's business, but as a couple, it's probably a
discussion they need to have since it will affect their relationship.
I mean, I hope it doesn't affect it negatively. It sounds like it would be a
positive thing all around, but Nathan just seems to not like me no matter
what I do. I only have to exist and he's on my tail about something.
Even from the bedroom, I can hear him muttering to Blaise, complaining
about how logistically, Blaise will be paying for everything — even if it's
not directly.
Blaise argues back that it's a wage — a business expense — and how I
then spend the money is irrelevant. The movie doesn't turn back on and I sit
awkwardly in my room, putting my headphones on to give them privacy.
Jordan and I text a few more times throughout the day. He gives me little
updates about his work before hinting at what he'd like to do to me
tomorrow night.
 I keep reminding myself that everything happens for a reason — and this
is my time to shine. Despite the Marco and Nathans of the world.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Ten

I try to stay in my bedroom for as long as possible, but as night starts to fall
over St. Devil's Creek, my stomach reminds me that I haven't eaten since
breakfast.
Against my better judgment, I emerge from my bedroom, surprised to
find Blaise alone in the living room. He looks up at me as I enter, his laptop
resting on his legs.
"Hey, you," he greets warmly.
"Where's Nathan?" I ask, looking around.
Blaise turns his attention to the screen. "He's gone home."
"Oh," I mutter, shifting awkwardly. "Was it because of me?"
"Don't let his moods get to you," Blaise laughs softly. "He's just
protective."
I pick a spot on the couch, curling my legs underneath me. "I know. But I
still feel bad."
"Well, don't," Blaise scolds playfully. "Because it's doing us both a favor.
It will be fine. I still think it's a great idea. I know it's still pretty raw, but in
a few days, you'll be settled and much more relaxed. It's hard letting things
go and giving in to change, but sometimes it's for the best."
"Wise words," I laugh. "You should do it more often."
He gives me a half-smile, typing on his laptop. "I'm just setting up some
documents to run through with you tomorrow, as well as a formal letter of
employment. If we're going to do it, we're going to do it properly. It will
have your expected hours, hourly rate, benefits, and a list of general tasks."
"Gosh, so we're really doing this," I say to him. "You'll be my boss."
"Your big boss," he points out with a grin.
I snort. "I'm the only other employee. It's not hard to have the title."
"But it sounds cool," he pouts. "Nah, it's fine. I'm going through a list of
tasks that I need help with and I'll teach you the software tomorrow. The
only problem is we need to get you some equipment."
"A laptop?" I ask gingerly.
He nods. "And before you say anything, it's a company expense so don't
even try to argue with me. It will be business property. I can already see
your mind panicking."
"I'm not that predictable."
"Yeah, you are."
We fall into silence as he types, before he finally turns the screen around,
showing me a neatly typed out document. "We'll head into town in the
morning and pick up the laptop. I've already ordered it and given them
some brief specs to run. Tomorrow, we'll set it up fully, get you familiar
with the programs, and explain all the tasks. After that, you should be right
to just smash into it."
"Okay," I mutter softly, leaning my head against the couch. "Are you
okay though?"
"I should be asking you that," he shoots back. "I want to hear all the juicy
details — about you telling Marco to fuck off, and your date last night."
I give a small laugh. "That's opposite ends of the spectrum. What do you
want to hear about first?"
"Hmm," he pauses, a genuine look of indecisiveness on his face. "The
date… no wait — the quitting."
Smiling, I relay the events of today, watching as Blaise's face turns up in
disgust.
"I knew he was a pig," he says with a sigh. "I'm glad you did it. Besides,
the pay wasn't worth it."
"Speaking of pay…" I start.
Blaise tilts his head with a tight smile. "There's a bit of damage to the
car."
I cringe. "How much?"
 "Well…" he starts, trying to dumb it down for me. "There's some internal
water damage which isn't too bad. A good detailer will be able to help with
that. Thankfully, nothing under the hood was severely impacted by the
water. You got lucky there. Generally, if you flood the engine or the radiator
it's not worth fixing, but they tightened things up and flushed it out."
I blink at him — unsure where to start. "That sounds like a toilet. And
what do you mean they tightened things up? They have already done some
work?"
Blaise pauses, realizing he's stuck his foot in his mouth. "Uh… yes."
"Blaise!"
"Stop," he says sternly, putting his hand up. "I've got it all figured out."
I stare at him intensely, unsure where to throw a cushion at his head or
break down crying.
He leans back, keeping a calm exterior. "I've calculated it into your pay.
You'll see it in the letter of offer. There's a loan from the business. I'll deduct
a small amount each pay for repayments. There's loan terms and a
schedule."
Feeling a little better, I relax slightly. Without all the information, I still
don't feel completely at ease, but at least it means I'll be repaying him.
"How have you gotten this sorted so quickly?"
"I have an attorney friend," he says simply.
"Right… but I only just quit today. They couldn't have done all this in
one afternoon."
A look of guilt flashes across his face and my mouth falls open. "You
already planned for this."
He grins sheepishly at me. "Sorry?" he offers.
"Unbelievable," I mutter in disbelief. "I don't know what to do with you."
"Work for me," he answers simply. "See — I'll be a good boss. I'm always
on top of things."
Unable to resist, I smirk. "I didn't ask to hear about your sex life, boss."
Blaise bursts out laughing. "Good call. Wait — does this mean legally I
can't ask you now about yours?"
"Well, I haven't signed the contract yet," I murmur. "And technically, if
it's outside of working hours, we're just roommates."
"Good," he says, slamming the laptop closed. "Because I want to hear all
about the details. Are you seeing him again?"
 Beaming, I nod. "Tomorrow night. He was actually the one who
encouraged me to do it."
Blaise feigns a look of hurt. "What am I? Chopped liver?"
"You know what I mean," I scold him playfully. "He agreed with you and
thought it was a good idea to take you up on your offer."
"Ahh. I like this man," he remarks with a smile. "He has his priorities
straight. Is anything else straight?"
My face deadpans as I finally pick up the cushion and throw it across the
coffee table at him. He catches it with ease, laughing.
"My sex life is none of your business, boss man."
"Oh, come on!" he complains. "I'm nothing but supportive. Give me the
tea."
I stand up, brushing imaginary dust from my lap. "Nope. I'll see you in
the morning for work." I start to make a beeline for my bedroom, then
pivot, remembering I'm starving. "Pretend I'm not here!" I shout from the
kitchen, the sound of the fridge door opening as I search for food.

As I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, I remember I didn't quite ask what
time I needed to start today. The morning light has well and truly flooded
in, and while it's only 8am, reality starts to set in as a new dawn breaks.
Reaching for my cell, I'm greeted with my usual good morning message
from Jordan.
Jordan: Good morning, pretty one. I hope today is amazing, just as you
are.
Me: You're the amazing one. Have a great day x
Stumbling out from my bedroom, I search for Blaise, not finding him
anywhere. From my awesome detective skills, I deduce he must be in his
bedroom, so I tap my knuckles on his door, hearing movement from inside.
He swings the door open, giving me a bright smile.
"Good morning," he says happily, and I can smell coffee inside his room.
"It's definitely morning," I yawn. "What time did you want to head into
town?"
 Blaise checks his watch. "I asked them to have the laptop ready by 9am.
So, go have a coffee and get ready. We'll convene at 8.45am."
"That's oddly proper of you," I tease. "But you're forgiven because you
made coffee."
"World's best boss, right here," he says, jabbing his finger into his chest.
I can't help but notice he looks more tired than usual, his dark hair
slightly messy and bags under his eyes.
"Definitely," I agree, trying to perk him up in case he's had a rough night.
"If you're ever having a shit day, just know that even on your worst days,
you'll always be better than Marco Barfo."
He lets out a hearty laugh as I head towards the kitchen, pouring myself a
cup of coffee.
Taking a quick shower, I get changed into some jeans, a light shirt, and a
cardigan before we set off to the computer store.
I'm not surprised that he's greeted by name when we enter, my eyes
scanning all the equipment along the shelves. The guy at the counter hands
him a box, talking in a language I barely recognize. The words are English,
but specs, modifications, cards and other random terms I'm not overly
familiar with, make me zone out.
I expect us to head back home, but instead he takes us on a detour,
pulling into Wheatley's Mechanics. Immediately, I spot my little yellow
submarine parked near a lifting station. There's two guys surrounding her,
working away and I throw Blaise a look.
"We already talked about this," he says, trying not to poke the bear. "Let's
go have a chat with them and see what the full update is."
Grumbling, I reluctantly step out of his Escalade, following him to the
guys. One of them spots us and instantly walks over with a grin on his face.
"Blazer! Hey, man," he greets, giving Blaise a slap on the arm. "This
must be Skylar."
"It is," Blaise says warmly. "Sky, this is my friend I was telling you
about."
It's hard to tell from all the grease, but light blue eyes and freckles look at
me warmly from behind a mop of red hair. "I'm Rohan. It's nice to meet ya."
"Likewise," I say with a smile. "I'd offer to shake your hand but…"
Rohan looks at his hand, cracking into a laugh as he wipes it on his
overalls. "Grease and dirt are a part of the gig. Anyway, I think you'll be
pleased with what we've done for ya."
 He leads us over to Ducky, hand running along the side panel. "We
managed to buff out the scratches from where the car hit the barrier. There
was also a dent but we suctioned that baby out. Our apprentice William has
been working on getting the excess water out from the inside. It may still
smell a bit, but that should fade with time."
Opening the door, I pop my head inside, surprised to find it free of water.
"How much water was in there?" I ask hesitantly. "I had to leave the
window down."
"Uh… better ya don't know, champ. But Blazer brought your keys in after
the tow truck arrived so we wound her up. It was mostly cosmetic damage
inside. Nothing too bad — you just might have a wet ass for a bit."
Blaise snorts, giving me a look. I slap his arm, flashing my eyes at him in
warning. Rohan doesn't pay any attention, opening the hood.
"We also changed your oil and filter. It looked like it was due. Also — did
you know your tires were a little flat?"
My cheeks tinge with pink as I kick a rock with my shoe. "I'll remember
to check the pressure more often."
My dad would be annoyed with me. I should know better — but I have to
admit, I've gotten a bit slack with that side of adulting since moving away
from home.
"Don't stress. It wasn't anything bad. If you need help, ya can always
bring her in to us."
I nod, giving him an appreciative smile. "Thank you. And to you too,
Blaise. You guys have helped me so much."
Blaise pats my back slowly. "You'd be lost without me."
I swat his hand away, turning back to Rohan. "When will she be ready?"
Rohan looks over the car, humming to himself. "Give us another day or
two to get her a little bit more dry. Then she's all yours."

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 Chapter Eleven

"So, do you have any questions?" Blaise asks as I finish scanning over the
letter of offer.
I shake my head slowly — too surprised and frazzled by it all. He's been
way too generous, and even though it's good for me, I can't help but worry
it's going to reflect back on him.
"You went above and beyond," I mutter, rubbing my right temple.
"Honestly, I would have been happy with half of this."
Blaise looks at me, shocked. "It's pretty standard stuff, Sky. Except for
the business loan — I may have overstepped there, but I wanted to."
Giving him a sly smile, I pick up the pen and sign on the dotted line. "I
adore you, Blaise. Honestly."
"Don't — you'll make my head big," he warns with a laugh. "So, I've
finished getting the laptop set up. I'll take you through the software and
we'll go from there. I think if we stick to six hours a day for now, that
should be sufficient. We can adjust as need be. Besides, we want you
finished in time for your date tonight."
Amused, I take the laptop from him as he hands it to me, the software
already opened. "It should be fun. I told Jordan I'd take an Uber to his house
tonight. He has a lot of meetings this afternoon."
"You should invite him over for dinner one night," Blaise says, placing
his own laptop in his lap. "It would be fun."
 "We could do a double-date," I offer.
Blaise's face tightens slightly, but he gives a small smile regardless.
"Sadly, I don't think Nathan will be down for it. But I still want to meet
Jordan more officially. He seems really lovely, and you're happy, which is
the most important thing."
"I am happy," I repeat, confirming his words. "It's weird. I went from
feeling so miserable and broken, to suddenly having this new zest for life."
"You deserve it," he says strongly. "Honestly, fuck Jake. He's a piece of
shit. If he can't see what's in front of him, it's his loss."
I nod, feeling a lump in my throat. "I still wish I had answers though.
He's just vanished off the face of the planet."
"Don't spend any more energy pondering it," Blaise replies. "He doesn't
deserve it. I'm sure he's out there, being his usual miserable self. I never did
like him much."
We spend the next few hours going over the software, Blaise filling me in
on his day to day functions, as well as what specific help he needs. I
suppose it does help that I have a bit of a business background, so I was
easily able to pick up on things, making my way through the first lot of
tasks.
By the time mid-afternoon rolls around, I've lost track of time. I'm
thoroughly engrossed in the work, enjoying the change from packing
orders.
"You should go get ready," Blaise says with a rough voice. He's been on
the phone all afternoon with clients, his throat hoarse from back to back
conversations about IT matters.
"I guess so," I answer, stretching my legs out. "Same time tomorrow?"
He nods, smiling. "Are you sure you don't want a lift?"
"Yeah, it's fine. It's better I do something for myself. I don't want to rely
on you guys too much," I laugh. "Besides, now that I have this fancy new
job, I can afford an Uber."
Blaise smirks, shaking his head. "Alright. Off you go, tiger."
Knocking on Jordan's door, I sway slightly in bustling anticipation. It's only
been two days since I saw him, but it feels like forever. When we're
together, it feels like time flies by. But as odd as it is, it doesn't feel long
enough. He has this way of making me feel so comfortable and at home,
that no amount of time feels like enough.
Footsteps echo towards the door before he pulls it open, giving me a
bright grin.
"Sky!" he beams, pulling me in for a hug.
I hug him back, temporarily drowning in his scent as it washes over me.
"Hi, stranger."
"You're just in time," he says, offering me his hand.
"Just in time for what?" I ask, kicking off my shoes as I step inside.
Jordan grins slyly, making me suspicious. "I have a surprise for you."
"Oh, no," I laugh. "Should I be worried?"
"Very," he chuckles, leading me towards the kitchen.
I didn't get much time to explore downstairs last time, and while the last
rays of light are still flickering in the sky, I'm able to see his house for what
it is.
The golden daylight bounces off the glass windows, illuminating the
room. I didn't notice it last time in the dark, but there's a sliding glass door
in the corner, a set of steps outside.
I put my bag on the kitchen counter, letting him lead me to the door. The
cool evening breeze hits us, gently blowing my hair around as he pulls me
down the steps.
The steps swing around the side of the house, and my mouth drops open
when I spot an outdoor jacuzzi, overlooking the tree tops above St. Devil's
Creek. The bubbles are splashing, little puffs of steam billowing off the
water.
"You have a hot tub?" I remark, heart racing in excitement.
"I sure do," he says, leading me over.
As we get closer, I notice a small table undercover. Atop of it is a modest
charcuterie board, two glasses, and a bottle of wine white.
"You're kidding," I gasp. "Jordan, this is incredible."
He leans down, kissing me, his soft lips feeling like home. "I told you —
we're going to celebrate. I should have told you to bring your swimsuit, but
I didn't want to give away the surprise. Also — I figured it would be more
fun if you didn't bring a swimsuit."
 Playfully smacking his arm, I lean in, pressing my body against his chest.
"You're amazing. And very cheeky. But no complaints here."
"Good," he murmurs, tugging a piece of hair behind my ear. "Nothing but
the best for you."
Is it possible to be falling for someone so quickly?
I ignore the swirling butterflies in my stomach and the feeling of anxiety
as recognition dawns through me. I'm definitely falling head over heels for
this man, and it's happening so quickly, there's no way to stop it.
I'm still choking on words which he realizes, pouring me a glass of wine.
"Here," he says softly, handing me a glass. "Have a drink and relax. I've got
the temperature set nice and hot. We can bring the cheese over by the edge."
He pulls off his shirt, laying in neatly on a nearby chair. I stand, frozen,
watching as he undresses, revealing all his glory.
When he kicks off his brief trunks, he looks at me, a devilish glint in his
eyes. "Are you going to get undressed at some point or is this a one-man
show?"
I shrug. "I'm happy with either option."
He steps over to me, plucking the glass from my hand. "Baby, I'm going
to get you wet one way or another. It's up to you which way you want that
to happen first."
Little does he know…
Taking a deep breath, I pretend to sigh, reaching for my cardigan. I slip it
off my shoulders, letting it hit the ground with a soft thud. My top comes
off next, followed by my jeans, until I'm left standing in my bra and panties.
Jordan sips my wine, watching me carefully. "Keep going," he says, but
there's a quiet demand to his tone.
Locking eyes, I remove the remaining layers of fabric, until we're both
standing naked facing each other. I lean forward, grabbing my wine back
from him as I turn and slowly, while looking over my shoulder at him, step
down into the hot tub.
He shakes his head, an all knowing smirk on his face as he grabs the
charcuterie board, wine bottle, and glass, and places them by the edge
before climbing into the warm water.
Bubbles splash around me, my body instantly relaxing in the warmth. I sit
in the corner, leaning against the fiberglass of the tub, gazing at him with
wonder.
 Grabbing a piece of cheese, he moves through the water towards me, his
thumb brushing my bottom lip. "Open up," he says huskily.
My lips part for him, his mouth cocking up in a smile as he pushes the
cheese and his thumb inside. I deliberately let out a little moan of
enjoyment, closing my eyes as the savory flavors hit me.
Jordan smashes his lips against mine, shocking me, the cheese half-
forgotten in my mouth. I moan again, but this time because of him, and he
lifts me up in the water, pulling me into his lap.
"You're a little minx," he growls, arm snaking around my back. His
fingers trail down my spine, hands grabbing my ass.
"Do you have a problem with that?" I ask cheekily.
He grabs my hand, bringing it between our bodies. He guides it to his
hard cock, wrapping my hand around it. "See what you do to me."
Biting my lip, I stroke him, enjoying the intoxicating power of knowing I
drive this man just as crazy as he makes me feel. "Well, it's only fair. You
do the same to me," I tell him.
His hand on my ass glides further down. "Oh, really?" he breathes out,
fingers finding my pussy. "Let's find out."
I gasp as he slides two fingers inside my body, pumping them in and out.
I try to match his rhythm, my shaking hand stroking his length.
Suddenly, his resolve snaps, and he pulls his fingers from me, pushing my
arm away. In one swift move, he impales me on his cock, my legs
tightening around his waist as we connect in the water.
"Let me show you what you do to me," he growls, thrusting up into my
pussy. I clench around him, the water splashing over the edges of the hot
tub as he slaps himself against me.
I'm just starting to get lost in the moment, when from somewhere, I hear a
faint ringing. I'm almost too far gone to pay any mind to it, but Jordan
slows down, easing out of me.
"Stay here," he whispers, kissing the base of my neck. "Keep touching
yourself. I want your fingers inside your pussy at all times. Do you
understand?"
I nod, peering at him through hooded eyes. "Okay…"
I watch as he stands, climbing out of the hot tub. He grabs a towel from a
small cabinet next to the table, before disappearing out of view up the steps.
My hand reaches down, fingers easily gliding through my folds as I play
with myself in his absence. I'm not sure when this newfound personality
made its debut, but I have no complaints. It's exhilarating — the feeling of
being free and enjoying life is something I missed greatly.
I rub my clit, switching between the swollen, aching spot to my entrance,
pushing a finger inside. It feels like an infinity, but finally, I hear footstep
heading back near the steps.
Feeling adventurous, I stand up in the tub, sitting on the edge with my
legs spread so he can see everything when he comes around the corner. I
continue playing with myself, fingers buried deep when I spot him. He
locks eyes with me, before they shoot down to my pussy with a heated
appreciative look.
It's the exact reaction I wanted. Except I didn't count on one thing.
And that was the new figure that appeared behind him on the steps.

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 Chapter Twelve

A sound resembling a strangled cat makes its way out of my mouth, my

tailbone hitting the edge of the tub as I fling myself into the water. Water
splashes everywhere, my hands covering my chest as I duck under the
bubbling water as much as possible while still staring, horrified, at the two
men.
"I'm so sorry!" I gasp.
Jordan looks at the other guy, their faces neutral. I have no idea what the
hell is going on, but I'm having a mini panic attack. That's the last time I'm
adventurous with an outdoor rendezvous.
"Don't be," the other man says, laughing light-heartedly.
My gaze switches to Jordan in confusion — my frazzled brain trying to
decipher the situation. He walks over, towel still hanging from his waist.
Leaning down over the edge of the tub, he gently grabs my chin, a small
smile on his face.
"Are you okay?" he asks.
I give a small nod, despite very much not being okay. I've just aged a
decade — at least.
"Can you hand me a towel?" I beg quietly. "I'll get dressed."
He doesn't move, his fingers stroking the side of my face. "I can," he says
warmly. "Or you have another option as well."
 My brows furrow, even more confused. "What do you mean?" I blurt out,
looking over his shoulder at the man.
The other guy lingers casually behind us, not moving from his spot. His
light blue eyes are watching the town in the distance, his body completely
at ease with the situation. His sandy blonde hair is pulled up into a manbun,
and judging from this distance, he's around the same height as Jordan —
perhaps a little taller.
Jordan smiles, kissing my forehead. He has tremendous balance and
abdominal strength. I would have fallen into the hot tub.
"We could invite him in."
"Huh?"
It's all I can muster, unsure if I've heard him correctly. Knowing he's
waiting for a reply, I shuffle down lower in the water. "Okay. I just need to
get dressed first," I tell him.
"Or you can stay naked," Jordan suggests, eyes twinkling with something.
Is he suggesting what I think he is?
My attention turns again to the other guy. This time, he's looking at me, a
small smile on his face. He's not fazed at all, and I'm not entirely sure how
that makes me feel.
"What are you saying?" I whisper to Jordan, my voice struggling to
remain firm.
Jordan grins at me. "Have you ever been pleasured by two guys at once,
firefly?"
Oh, fuck. He is suggesting that.
Shaking my head, I look away. "No, I haven't."
I'm not ashamed to admit it. I'm sure lots of people haven't had random
threesomes. But the whole situation has caught me off guard. Do I want to
do it?
"Do you want to?" Jordan asks, his voice gentle. I can tell he's doing his
best not to push me, letting me control the situation. He's not pressuring me,
and neither is the other guy, the two of them merely laying their cards on
the table.
The thought of being pleasured by two incredibly good looking fit men is
intriguing, I'll give them that. I mean, what girl wouldn't want to be spoiled
and the center of attention?
"I don't know," I mutter back quietly, nerves getting the better of me.
 Jordan nods in understanding. "I can ask him to leave. Or, we can take it
slow. We can just hang in the hot tub, and see how things progress. You
don't have to do anything you don't want to. It's important you know that.
But if you do want to experiment, I'll support you. It's about you."
"Have you done it before?" I ask gingerly.
He laughs quietly. "I have," he confirms. "It can be a lot of fun. It's really
freeing, actually. Sex doesn't always have to be an intimate thing.
Sometimes it can be just fun."
"I don't know," I repeat wearily. "But I feel rude asking him to leave.
Maybe we can just hang out for a bit and see what happens."
Jordan smiles, giving me a reassuring look. "I promise you're safe with
me. Do you trust me?"
"Yes," I mutter without hesitation. I do trust him, and given how fast
things have progressed with us, it scares me. But he brings a sense of peace
to my life, one I never felt with Jake. Besides, like he said, nothing has to
happen. This could just be a funny, awkward encounter that we laugh about
later. It would be nice to meet some of his friends. Jake was never keen for
me to meet his friends — he always valued his guy time and kept it separate
from our relationship.
"Well, it's up to you, darling. But just know, you're safe. I'd never let
anything bad happen to you."
I have no idea why this random guy is here — or why Jordan brought him
back knowing what we were doing. Against my better judgment, I choose to
trust him. I don't want to make a scene and embarrass him, or bombard him
with questions. I know I should, but I want to let Jordan into my life fully,
and that means trust. He said I'm safe — so I choose to believe him.
He stands up, walking over to his friend. I'm not sure what words they
exchange between them, but they both head over to the tub. Jordan removes
his towel, dropping it on the ground before climbing back into the hot tub.
He's not shy at all about being naked in front of his friend, and I can't help
but wonder if it's a confidence thing, or if they have done this together
before.
Just as assertive as Jordan, his friend pulls off his clothes, revealing his
toned, fit body carelessly. I avert my eyes, trying to give him privacy, but I
already saw enough to show he's as spectacular physically as Jordan.
Grabbing my wine glass, I down the entire thing, as Jordan laughs quietly
next to me. Only when his friend slips into the water, hiding his modesty, do
I finally turn my attention back. I still can't look either of them in the eye,
but his friend reaches out his hand for me to shake.
"I'm Kaden," he greets warmly. "One of Jordan's buddies."
"Skylar," I tell him, taking his hand out of respect and giving it a tiny
shake.
Kaden leans back against the hot tub, turning to Jordan. "Did you catch
the game last night?"
I'm thrown off by the casualness, but it eases me, reiterating Jordan's
earlier words of reassurance. No one was going to touch me without my
consent.
Jordan nods. "It was a good game. Close one."
"Absolutely," Kaden laughs, running a wet hand over the top of his head
to smooth it down. "They better improve their stamina if they expect to
make it to the end of the finals."
"Basketball?" I ask, trying to join into the conversation. I'm not a sporty
person, but I know enough about the seasons to know the NBA is heading
into the finals.
"Yep," Kaden confirms.
Jordan puts his arm around me. "This loser was meant to join us last
night, but he had to work."
Oh, yeah. I forgot about guys' night. It makes sense now, laughing
internally at myself.
"Sorry for having a job," Kaden taunts. "Gotta pay the bills somehow. I
should be good next time though."
"Skylar just started a new job," Jordan points out proudly. "She's now
working for an IT consulting business."
He makes it sound more glorious than it is. "My roommate," I tell Kaden.
"He has his own business. I'm helping out with admin work."
Kaden nods. "That's impressive. Are you enjoying it so far?"
I smile. "Today was my first day. But it seems like it will be good. Blaise
and I get along really well, and I can work from home which is exciting."
"Ooh," Kaden mutters, looking at Jordan. "Is this the girl you saved
during the storm?"
My stomach and heart simultaneously clench into knots. He told them
about me.
Jordan laughs. "Yep. Someone tried to drive through flood water."
 Sheepishly, I smile. "My ex-boss was a bit of an asshole. Gotta pay those
bills," I say, repeating Kaden's words back.
Kaden laughs loudly, eyes lighting up. "I like her," he says to Jordan.
"Anyway," he continues, turning back to me. "I'm sorry for crashing date
night. I was driving past and forgot."
"It's fine," I say warmly. "You seem really nice and I'm excited to meet
some of Jordan's friends."
We continue chatting, just relaxing in the hot tub as the sun finishes
setting. It's fairly dark, the only lights nearby are coming from within
Jordan's house, reflecting on the top of the water.
Jordan puts his hand on my knee, giving me a gentle squeeze as we talk
about the crazy storm and how Kaden apparently got locked out of his
house during one of the downpours of rain.
I'm completely relaxed, nearly forgetting about Jordan's original proposal
until I feel his fingers creep up my leg towards my thighs. I stiffen under the
water, but make no effort to stop him, frozen in disbelief and a little bit of
excitement.
It's not really the prospect of what could happen, but rather the built-up
frustration from earlier. My body was still aching from missing him inside
of me.
At least — that was the lie I was telling myself.
Jordan's fingers find my clit, massaging it. I'm thankful for the bubbles
hiding everything, biting the inside of my lip as I try to focus on what
Kaden is saying. He's muttering something about a friend of theirs, the
name not even sticking in my head as my eyes become unfocused.
It's apparent that Jordan is taking this is as a personal challenge, trying to
get me to moan or react. And since I've made no attempt to stop him, he's
doing everything he can to try.
I let out a small gasp when he roughly shoves my thighs apart, allowing
more space for his fingers to touch my entrance. They glide easily inside
my pussy, and when they do, I'm unable to stop my head tipping back. I
may not be moaning out loud, but the only person that would be oblivious
to what's happening would be a dead man.
Kaden stops talking, watching us closely from the other side of the hot
tub. Jordan leans down to my ear, his warm breath tickling my neck.
"He's watching you, firefly."
 My head snaps back forward, locking eyes with Kaden. He's right —
Kaden is watching, intrigue and some type of craving in his gaze.
"Do you want me to stop?" Jordan asks, giving me an out.
I'm surprised, my body reacting before I can rationally think about the
consequences. I shake my head, closing my eyes as a minor, pathetic
attempt of protection from lustful eyes.
I feel Jordan smirk over my shoulder, his soft lips kissing the tops. He
plunges two fingers in and out of me, thumb circling my clit. I can tell he's
trying to make me come undone. It's his last dying mission — and he
succeeds.
A small cry works its way out of my lips, my body arching into his hand
as I come. Jordan removes his fingers from me, clasping my chin as he
pivots my face towards his, smashing his lips onto mine. I kiss him back,
body still shaking as it comes down from the high.
"Let him watch me take you," Jordan mutters against my lips.
Grabbing my waist, he swishes me through the water until I'm perched on
his lap, facing Kaden. It's all happening so fast that I can barely register
what's happening until my legs are on either side of his, the tip of his cock
pressing against my pussy.
Jordan wraps a protective arm around my chest, squeezing my breast as
lowers me down his shaft. I'm left gasping for air as I'm filled with him
instead, my eyes unable to pull themselves away from Kaden's.
Thrusting into me, my breasts bounce above the water, little waves
crashing into all of us. "Do you want him to kiss you?" Jordan asks, lips
sucking on my neck.
I look at Kaden, knowing full well he heard Jordan. I check for any signs
of discomfort — or repulsion — and when I find none, I nod shyly.
There's no further invitation needed as Kaden glides through the water
towards me, meeting us in a few short seconds. My heart pounds in my
chest as Jordan pounds into me, while I'm stuck staring at his friend.
Kaden's hand grabs the back of my neck, his head bobbing down so our
mouths can find each other. His lips are soft and warm, and I can taste
lingering bourbon on his tongue. It ignites something in me, fueling my
confidence as I kiss him back heatedly.
Behind me, I hear Jordan groan, hands digging into my skin as he fucks
me harder. There's no other way to describe it — he just fucks me, like a
senseless monster desperate to feel me.
 Letting go of my breast, Jordan grabs my hand, pulling our connected
grip under the water. When my hand brushes against Kaden's cock, I stiffen
with realization. Jordan is guiding me to touch his friend.
My fingers curiously wrap around Kaden's length, making him suck in a
breath before letting out a tiny hiss into my mouth. It spurs me on, my grip
getting firmer as I hold him. Jordan grabs my wrist, moving my hand for
me as it runs up and down Kaden's cock. I moan, the sounds captured by
Kaden's mouth, followed by the two of them groaning in unison.
"Yes, touch him," Jordan encourages, letting go of my wrist and re-
grabbing my breast. "Stroke him like you stroke me."
Kaden grabs my throat with his hand, startling me but he doesn't apply
any pressure. He holds me firm, forcing his tongue into my mouth. I'm
starting to get overwhelmed from all the sensations, my body tightening
around Jordan.
When a hand brushes against my clit, massaging the sensitive area, it
takes me at least five seconds to realize Jordan still has two hands on my
body.
"Come on his cock, Skylar," Kaden muses. "Show me how you come."

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 Chapter Thirteen

Kaden still has my mouth tied up with his, distracting me. I don't have the
tiniest window to get nervous or shut down, my body too preoccupied by all
the hands and mouths on me. My orgasm races through me, a scream
spilling out as they both touch me.
"That's it," Jordan says proudly, squeezing my nipple. "Fucking take all
of me. It's yours."
Fuck.
My body is shaking so much, I fall back against Jordan's chest. There's no
reprieve though, Kaden not letting go as he keeps vigorously rubbing my
clit. I'm overwhelmed by the sensation again, pleading for a tiny bit of
mercy.
"You need a break?" Jordan muses. "Here."
He slides out of me, and the second I catch my breath, it's gone again as
he lifts me through the water, my chest colliding with Kaden's. Before I can
ask what's going on or apologize, Kaden's on me, arms tight around my
back as he lifts me out of the water.
Placing me on the edge of the hot tub, my body shivers from the cold air.
The two of them stay in the hot tub, and I'm bewildered for a second, until
Kaden grabs my knees, spreading my legs apart. I'm completely exposed to
the two of them, my dripping pussy clenching as cool air hits it.
 "So fucking perfect," Kaden hums, running his thumb up my slit. "How
does she taste, Jordan?"
My beating heart is ready to leap from my chest as I gaze between the
two of them. Jordan catches my eye, smirking.
"Fucking incredible, isn't that right?" he asks me.
I nod slowly, breathing heavily. Jordan's eyes dance, and for once, I can
sense what's coming.
"Do you want Kaden to eat your pussy?"
Swallowing, I look at Kaden, his gaze focused on me as his thumb
continues to trace the soft curves of my pussy. When I give him the green
light, a small nod, he leans forward, running his tongue up my slit slowly.
"Fuck," I moan, leaning back on my hands.
The tip of Kaden's tongue finds my clit, swirling around in circles as he
teases me. "You're right," he murmurs to Jordan. "She's fucking incredible."
Jordan slouches back against the wall of the hot tub, a knowing smirk on
his face. "You should feel her pussy too."
Kaden spreads me open, tongue lapping at my entrance. Standing up, he
flips his palm facing up, fingers easily entering my body. I squeeze around
him, eyes finding his hard cock dangling, the tip just grazing the top of the
water.
Noticing my line of vision, Jordan smiles at me. "I think she wants your
cock too, Kaden."
"Is that so?" he asks, focusing on his fingers as he rhythmically dances
them in and out of my body. "Do you want my cock, baby?"
I guess there's no going back now. At this stage, I might as well enjoy it
for what it is, and ask questions later. Nodding, Kaden grabs my legs,
pulling me forward until I hit the water with a splash. He catches me, one
arm wrapped around me while the other grips his cock firmly and lines it up
with my eager body. Thrusting into me, I'm immediately filled with him,
my gasp silenced by the water slapping the edges of the tub.
Kaden jerks upwards — hard and fast — into me. I wrap my arms and
legs around him for stability, letting him control everything. I'm so worked
up that I feel another orgasm start to climb, but before I can blissfully fall
over the edge, he suddenly pulls out. I go to protest, but I'm turned around,
Jordan reaching for me. Someone thrusts into me again, but I'm sandwiched
between the two of them, so tightly, that I'm not even sure who it is.
 Jordan slams his lips against mine while Kaden's hands grab my breasts,
tweaking and squeezing my nipples. Hands are on my waist, my thighs, my
chest — I can't keep track of anything. Moaning so loudly that I'm sure the
people in the town below can hear, I'm ready to fall over the edge again
when they repeat the same motion. Someone slips out of me, and someone
slips back inside in their place.
A hand grabs my neck, pulling my head back. Kaden's lips smash onto
mine as he leans over me while someone pounds their cock into my
confused but euphoric body. I'm not sure where Jordan begins and Kaden
ends, but holy fuck — I don't care right now. The feeling of two men on
either side of me, taking turns at having their way with me, is more than I
could ever imagined.
When I feel my orgasm approaching again, I still in fear, terrified they are
going to deny me again.
"Please," I mutter against Kaden's lips in desperation.
"Do you want to come?" he asks, tongue flicking my bottom lip.
I nod, groaning as someone intentionally thrusts in deeper, pushing me
with force above the water. They don't stop though, another hand reaching
down and pinching my clit.
"Then come for us," Jordan murmurs happily.
The two of them touch me, hands, cocks and bodies sending me spiraling
into the abyss. I scream, clenching down on someone, but they both groan,
not giving anything away.
"We're not done yet," Kaden says with a breathy laugh, taking me from
Jordan's reach over to the edge of the tub. He spins me around in a full
circle before slamming my back into the wall. My hands automatically
reach for the sides — one hand on the edge, the other on the step beneath
the water's surface.
Stepping back, my body floats up, and I place both hands firmly on the
edge, trying to stop my head from going under the water. Kaden runs his
large hand up my stomach to my chest, until he reaches my neck.
"Hold your breath," he warns, and when I look at him confused through
half-dazed eyes, I spot Jordan moving over to us.
"I've got you," he says warmly, hand on my shoulder. "Trust us."
When Jordan pushes down on my shoulders, lowering me into the water,
a small fraction of panic hits me, but I take a large breath in, my face and
body sinking beneath the water.
 He holds me under, and I keep my eyes closed, focusing on my sanity.
Someone — Kaden, I assume — pushes between my legs, and suddenly,
I'm filled again, body stretching as a cock shoves into my pussy.
I can't gasp. I can't do anything.
A hand strokes my shoulder and I realize it's Jordan, giving me
reassurance that I'm safe. Kaden rolls his hips into me, fucking me under
the bubbly mess of water.
Suddenly, the pressure on my shoulders lifts, and I float up, my mouth
gasping as I take in air. Before I can do anything else, the feeling is back,
and I suck in, before I'm under the water again.
They repeat this several times, and at one stage, I'm fairly certain they've
swapped again, but I can't see anything. The bubbles and jets of the tub
block out any other noise from the surface, and all I can do is… feel.
We get into a rhythm of letting me breathe before I go back under, and as
I adjust to it, so does my body.
A thumb brushes against my clit, swirling around, until I tense up, my
body about to release again. I've been under for too long though, my lungs
screaming for air. But they don't stop, the rubbing and touching increasing
as they quickly bring me to climax.
It feels like my chest is exploding, but just as I see stars in my eyes, fresh,
cold air hits my face and I instinctively take a huge gasp. Sweet air fills my
lungs, my body shaking from my intense orgasm.
There's still spots in my vision, clouding everything as multiple kisses are
placed on either side of my neck, hands grabbing my trembling body.
"Can you take us again?" a rough voice asks from my left — Jordan.
Nodding, I think my eyes are closed, but I can't tell. Everything is just
dark, blurry.
Gently, I'm placed onto the tub step, someone moving between my legs
again. It's a different feeling this time — they enter me slowly, an arm
holding onto the ledge next to my head.
As my vision starts to focus, I find Kaden above me, pumping into me
slowly as he watches my face closely.
Jordan appears next to me, brushing my hair from my face. "Are you on
birth control?" he asks quietly.
I look over at him while Kaden slows slightly, the two of them waiting. I
nod, my voice hoarse. "IUD."
"Can we both come in you?" Jordan questions, stroking my face.
 "Yeah," I mutter, turning back to look at Kaden. He smiles at me, hips
increasing their pace again as he takes me deep and slow.
It feels like barely any time passes before I see his face tighten, eyes
squeeze close as he lets out a low groan. He jerks his hips into me roughly,
fingers gripping the ledge for dear life as he reaches his climax. I stare at
him dazed, mesmerized. But like before, they tag team as soon as he pulls
out, Jordan immediately pushing into my body.
"You did so well," he murmurs in a low voice with a smile. "You're
fucking amazing."
There's no time to respond to him either, a deep growl ripping from the
back of his throat as he shoves me into the wall, holding me there with his
body as he falls over the blissful edge of pleasure.
My heart is beating a million miles an hour, body still pinned between
him and the wall as reality starts to set back in. Except, I have a hard time
believing this reality.
I just had my first threesome in a hot tub with two hot guys, the world
around us a dark, misty haze now.
Jordan pulls out of me, my body starting to float back up in the water
until I position myself onto the step, holding myself down.
The two of them also sit on surrounding steps, arms balancing on the
edge as they lean back, a look of contentment on their faces.
"We should get you out of here and get you some water before you
dehydrate," Jordan says warmly, reaching out of the tub to grab a discarded
towel.
I let him help me out, the cold air making me shiver violently as the three
of us collect our things and quickly scamper inside the house.
Kaden dries himself, pulling his clothes back on, before giving us both a
small smile. "I'm going to head off. I have to go check on my mom. But it
was lovely to meet you, Skylar — if that's not too rude to say."
A small laugh escapes my mouth. "I think we're past the point of
awkwardness now. But it was nice to meet you too."
Kaden grins at me, a boyish look on his face as he stares at me
appreciatively. "You're in good hands with this one."
"And yours too," Jordan jokes, hugging me from behind.
My cheeks turn red, and Jordan leans down, placing a kiss on my left
cheek.
 "Go jump into the shower and warm up," he tells me. "I'll walk Kaden
out."
I nod, waving goodbye to Kaden as I head upstairs. I still fondly
remember my way around, and after a few minutes, Jordan joins me in the
shower, the two of us standing under the hot stream of water. He asks me if
I'm okay and I tell him yes, despite still being a little puzzled by things. I
know he'll answer my questions if I ask, but it happened and it's done. I
enjoyed it and like I said, it could be the start of a funny inside joke later.
Every great love story has one. Maybe this is mine.
We don't stay in for too long though, our skin already wrinkled.
After we climb out, Jordan pulls me over to the bed, lifting me up in his
arms before laying me on the soft mattress. He pulls the heavy blanket over
me, climbing in the other side.
We don't sleep though. We just lay together, hugging as we talk for hours
about anything and everything — except what happened tonight. We realize
we have more things in common, little quirky titbits that I've never shared
with anyone else. In my relaxed state, I tell him secrets and feelings,
because I can. I've never felt this at ease with anyone before in my entire
life. And it's only when the first little wisps of sun rays illuminate the
bedroom that I finally doze off in his arms, a smile on my face. I think I've
found my soulmate.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Fourteen

"Babe, it's time to wake up," a rough voice murmurs, stubble brushing
against my cheek as soft lips kiss me.
"I don't want to," I groan, squeezing my eyes shut, kissing him back.
Jordan laughs, hands wrapping around my naked body. "I know. I don't
either. But if we don't try to wake up, we'll be late for work."
I manage to open one eye, gazing at him. "What time is it?"
"It's a little after eight. But on the plus side, it's Friday."
Groaning again, I squeeze both eyes shut. We've probably only been
asleep for less than three hours, my body exhausted from last night's
activities. "I guess I can sleep tomorrow."
Jordan laughs, humming. "Maybe. It depends."
"Depends on what?" I ask gingerly.
"If you're going to come back tonight."
Opening my eyes, I stare at his face. He's so close to me that I can see
every freckle, every little line of age. "Do you want me to?" I question,
warmth spreading through me.
He smiles. "Absolutely. I'd love to take you out to dinner tonight. An
actual dinner this time. No funny business, I promise. But then we could
come here and hang — watch a movie, relax."
Laughing, I raise an eyebrow at him. "Really? No funny business at all?"
 "Hm," he starts, pressing his lips to my shoulder. "As much as I enjoy
your body, I also love your mind and spending time with you. You could
stay the weekend if you like. I don't have any plans."
He wants me to stay the weekend?
"I'd really like that," I murmur with a smile. "Just as long as you aren't
sick of me already."
"I could never get sick of you," he says, pulling the blanket over us. "I
could just stay with you forever. You make it easy to be with you."
My heart does a little weird flippy thing. "I feel the same," I admit. "Even
if you did share me last night."
Jordan tilts his head, watching my face carefully. "Was it okay?"
"It was more than okay," I tell him. "Mind-blowing. I just didn't expect it.
People usually aren't okay with sharing."
"Oh," he says, face pulled up in thought. "Well, Kaden is a very close
friend. And it was just some fun. But as for sharing you in other ways, that's
not something I am keen on doing. And we don't have to do that again. I
just wanted you to enjoy yourself. You've had a rough run lately."
"So it was solely just for my stress relief," I tease.
Jordan nods. "And it might have been a little hot watching you ride my
best friend's dick. But as long as only I get this," he pauses, motioning to us
in bed. "Then I'm happy."
I put my hand on the side of his face, holding his cheek. "Can I ask an
awkward question?"
"There's no awkwardness between us," he says genuinely. "I've never felt
at ease with someone like I do with you. But ask away."
Swallowing, I do my best to remain confident — even if I'm not. "What
are we?" I ask sheepishly. "I mean, what do you want to be? We don't have
to be anything or put a label or things, but I just wanted to ask. What do you
want?"
Jordan smiles, laughing as I stutter over words. "I just want you, Skylar.
In every way possible. But the better question is: what do you want?"
I shrug, looking away as the nerves creep in. "I don't know. I just thought
it would be nice to have something to call you, other than my rescuer or
oyster friend."
He bursts out laughing, burying his face into the crook of my neck.
"You're adorable. How about this? Why don't you call me your boyfriend?"
"Really?" I ask, my voice higher than normal. "You're okay with that?"
 Jordan pulls back, a crooked smile on his face. "I'm more than okay with
it, if you are."
"I'd really like that," I tell him. "I feel really strongly about you. There's
just this connection between us that I haven't felt before."
He nods. "I feel it too. And I'd love nothing more than to call you my
girlfriend."
"So, it's settled."
"It's settled," he says, laughing. Throwing the blankets back, I groan as
the air hits my naked body. "But if we don't get up, we're going to get in
trouble. Come on, I'll drive you home."
"I can take an Uber," I offer but he cuts me off.
"What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't make sure my girlfriend
got home safely?"

"I know I'm late!" I yell, barreling through the front door. "I'm sorry! Please
don't fire me."
Blaise looks up, startled from the living room as I rush in. "Jesus, woman.
Slow down. I'm only one coffee deep for jump scares."
I pull out my cell, checking the time. "It's five past nine."
"I know how to read time," he laughs. "Don't stress about it. It's only five
minutes."
Dropping my bag in the doorway, I walk into the living room, throwing
myself down on the couch. I cover my eyes, groaning. "There's coffee,
right? I think I only had about three hours of sleep."
Blaise laughs. "Yes, there's coffee. Why did you only have three hours of
sleep? You naughty girl."
My cheeks blush as I look at him slowly, my face blank. "We stayed up
late talking."
"Sure. Talking."
"Among other things," I mutter, confessing what we both already know.
Blaise grins, tapping the keyboard on his laptop. "I'm really happy for
you. And at lunch, I thought we could go pick up your car."
 "That would be amazing," I tell him. "I really owe you."
He waves me off, turning his attention back to the laptop. "It's nothing.
Now, go get your coffee and your laptop. We'll pump you full of caffeine
and hope for the best."

Rohan hands me the keys, a large grease mark up the side of his face. "She's
all ready for ya! We even managed to get her completely dried inside."
"Thank you so much," I respond gratefully. "I really appreciate it. I was
so worried she was a goner."
"Nah," he says, waving his hand. "We're the best. Blazer knows that."
Blaise rolls his eyes playfully from my right. "Sure. Keep telling yourself
that."
They exchange some more friendly banter as I walk over to my now-
converted submarine. Opening the door, I'm greeted with the fresh scent of
floral tones and grease, but as I pat the seats, I'm ecstatic to find she is very
dry.
There's not a single mark on her from the barrier damage and the inside is
probably the cleanest it's ever been since I've had her. I give the men a
quick wave to indicate I'm about to climb in and drive off, the two of them
giving me a curt nod back as they continue their chitchat.
I drive home, relaxing in my seat. Life is finally starting to feel good and
make sense again. I did it — I survived and came out the other side. I guess
that's just what we have to do. Take what life throws at us and push on until
it's over.
I've weathered the storm — quite literally — and now I was in a sun-
filled bliss.
I had a boyfriend.
I had a new job.
And my car survived.
While I had never intended to not survive the great clusterfuck, I certainly
didn't expect to come out like this. Jake was a fleeting memory now — a
life lesson. I didn't need an immature coward when I had a boyfriend who
adored me, and a best friend who supported me through everything.
I suppose it's a lesson we all need to have sometimes. We shouldn't accept
the bare minimum for the sake of it. We deserve better, and there will
always be someone ready to give you what you need.
With my newfound happiness, I realized I should make more of an effort
to those who mean something to me. It's only a short drive home, but I
quickly phoned my Mom from the car, realizing it's been too long and I
miss her voice.
"Hey Moon," she greets warmly down the phone line. "We've been
wondering when we'd hear from you."
I scold myself, immediately apologizing. "I'm sorry, Momma. It's been
quite a rough few weeks. How are you and Dad going?"
"Oh, you know," she starts. "Dad is better with work. I've been helping
your uncle. He's sick at the moment."
"Uncle Logie?" I ask, frowning. "Is he okay?"
We come from a small family. I'm the only child to my parents — much
like Dad. But Mom has one brother. He never married or had kids, so I don't
even have any cousins to torment. But given how small our family was,
we're quite close knit. Uncle Logie was always there for events, supporting
me like his own.
"Yes, just some problems with his heart. But you know what it's like. You
can't slow him down," Mom mutters, and I can hear the frustration in her
voice.
"I know," I agree with her. "Is he okay though? Can I do anything?"
She lets out a tiny laugh. "It's all fine here. We're okay. I'll let him know
you called. He'll be so happy to hear that. He's always asking how you are
doing. We miss you."
"I miss you guys too," I say sadly. "I'll have to come for a visit soon."
"Please do," she responds. "Your father and uncle are driving me mental.
Now, tell me about you. What's happening in your world?"
I fill her in on work and Jordan, and I'm delighted that she's as thrilled as
I am. I hear Dad's voice in the background, Mom relaying the news to him
before I hear the line ruffle and my Dad's voice comes through.
"Moon? What's this about you having a boyfriend?" he asks.
I laugh. "Hi, Dad. It's new — so be nice."
 Dad scoffs. "I'm always nice, sweetheart. But he's better than that Jake
fella, right? I never did like him."
"Dad!" I scold, at the same time as Mom reprimands him as well.
"What?" he groans at both of us. "I'm allowed to not like people. And
you're my daughter. I'll be having words with this new guy."
I grumble, putting my head on the steering wheel once the car comes to a
stop in front of my house. "I beg you — please don't. I really like him.
Don't scare him off."
"I won't scare him off," Dad says proudly. "I'll just show him my
collection of rifles."
Leaning back in my seat, I shake my head. "He's a good one, Dad. I just
know it."
"He better look after you," Dad warns. "Or he'll have to face your Dad
and Uncle."

I manage to make up the lost time from morning before Blaise trudges back
in. I can't help but snort at the giant streak of grease on his face.
"What happened?" I ask. "Did you have to change a tire or something?"
Blaise wipes the side of his face, checking his hand before letting out a
half-assed sigh. "That asshole Rohan wiped his finger down my cheek."
"Why did he do that?" I question, amused.
He grumbles, sitting down and reaching for his laptop. "He was trying to
be funny. He has a weird way of trying to make people laugh."
"It sounds like it," I agree. "Why was he trying to do that?"
I hear Blaise stop typing and it forces me to look up from my own screen.
His jaw is tight and for a moment, I'm worried. I stress that I'm asking too
many questions on work time, but he just lets out a breath, before typing
again.
"Nathan and I are on the verge of breaking up," he says finally in a
monotone voice.
"What?" I mutter in disbelief. "Why?"
 Blaise gives me a comforting smile. "We're just not handling the distance
anymore."
"Oh," I reply sadly. "Can he move over this way?"
He laughs, scaring me from the change of tone. "He could. But he doesn't
want to. He wants me to move there."
"And you don't want to?" I press.
"Not particularly," he snarls. It sounds like he's annoyed, but I know it's
not at me. "Plus there's other issues as well."
I can see his jaw straining as he clenches his mouth. I don't want to push
him too much and ask, worried that we will cross boundaries or get
distracted. He's always there for me when I need him, and I want to do the
same. But at the moment, we're working. And it's his business. I don't want
him to suffer anymore than he already is.
"What do you need from me right now?" I ask quietly. "What can I do?"
Blaise looks up, smiling at me. The warmth is back in his eyes as he
looks over my neatly tucked frame on the couch. "Let's just finish this work
and we can talk about it tonight. We can have a drink and order in if you
like."
I nod, before remembering I have plans. I already know that I'm going to
reschedule my time with Jordan, but it must be written all over my face,
because Blaise catches on.
"You have plans," he says simply. "That's okay."
"No!" I start, pulling out my cell. "I can change them. Honestly, it's not a
problem. I was planning on staying the weekend with Jordan so if I
postpone tonight, I can just go over tomorrow."
He gives me a sympathetic smile. "You don't have to do that, Sky. I'm not
going to break — I promise. Go have your fun."
"Absolutely not," I mutter, typing out a quick text to Jordan. "You were
there for me when I needed you after Jake. I'm going to be there for you.
You're practically my best friend. Not even just here, but in general. If
Jordan cares for me like I care for him, he'll understand."
I quickly glance over the text before hitting send.
Me: I'm really sorry. Something has come up tonight. But if it's okay
with you, I'd love to come over tomorrow still and stay.
Jordan: Of course. Is everything okay?
Me: Yeah. Blaise just needs a friend and I want to be there to help him.
Particularly after everything he's done for me recently.
 Jordan: That's more than okay. I hope he is doing alright. Give him my
best and I'll see you tomorrow xx
"See," I mutter in relief, looking up at Blaise. "He's fine. We're going to
smash this workout, and then we'll give our livers a work out."

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Fifteen

When I wake up the next morning, my brain is a little foggy. Two back to
back evenings of little sleep are starting to wear me down, but I'm thankful
for the opportunity to be with the people I care about.
Blaise and I had stayed up late, watching reruns of American Horror
Story, eating Chinese food, and talking. He filled me in on him and
Nathan's recent arguments, the two of them growing apart. Apparently, it's
not just the distance, but also their career and life goals. And even though
he didn't say it directly, I can't help but feel that I'm also a thorn in Nathan's
side.
He's made it clear from the beginning that he has an issue with me. I'm
not sure why — I guess some people are just like that. But Blaise reassured
me that their problems are normal and sometimes, relationships just run
their course.
Later that morning, I packed my bag, said farewell to Blaise for the
remainder of the weekend, and drove to Jordan's house. It was nice being
able to drive myself for once, without having to rely on lifts or catching an
Uber.
I park my car in his driveway in front of the closed garage door and when
he opens the front door for me, I practically fling myself into his arms.
"Missed me, did you?" he asks, laughing. Leaning down he kisses me,
my feet lifting off the ground as he hugs me.
 "I did. But mainly I'm just so thankful that you were okay with last
night," I mutter, helping him to close the door behind us as we go inside.
Jordan places me back on my feet when we reach the kitchen. "Why
wouldn't it be okay? Blaise is your friend. It's important to have solid
relationships and show up for the people you care about."
I gaze at him. "I don't think I've ever been more attracted to you than I am
at this very moment."
He laughs. "You're beautiful. I'm so happy you're here for the weekend. I
promise we'll get more sleep tonight. And no more visitors — I've made
sure to let all my friends know I'm busy this weekend."
Blushing, I shift awkwardly. "You caught me off guard with that one."
"As much as Kaden had fun, I promise you he was absolutely mortified
the next day at interrupting us. I'll never let him live it down," Jordan grins.
"But he's away with his family this weekend anyway."
Putting my bag on the ground next to the kitchen counter, I lean against
it, my fingers playing with some mail left on it. "Poor Kaden. I hope he
wasn't too traumatized."
"He'll survive," Jordan muses. "Plus he owes me a beer now after giving
him the best night of his life."
"So, I set the standard," I joke.
Jordan leans against the counter, facing me. "Baby, you are the standard.
You're what everyone could ever want. And we loved the other night so
much. But still, you're mine. And Kaden is very jealous now."
I flush, fighting back a smile. "I'm glad I could help. You haven't opened
your mail yet," I point out, changing the subject before I resemble a tomato.
"Probably just boring bills," Jordan says, walking over to the fridge. "Can
I get you a drink?"
"Yes, please," I answer, running my finger over the envelope window.
Mr. Jordan Harding.
I say his name over in my mind a few times, realizing I knew something a
little bit more intimate about him. I know last names aren't a huge deal —
we all have them — but it made this more real. He wasn't just the guy who
picked me up from the side of the road. He had a house, a name I could
remember, and everyday that passed, my heart was growing more and more
fond of him.
I think I might even be falling in love with him.
 I remember when I first thought that I was falling in love with Jake. It
terrified me, for reasons I can't even explain. Being vulnerable with
someone, it's scary. But knowing I feel this way about Jordan, it doesn't
scare me one little bit. It makes me excited, the possibilities endless.
Jordan walks over and hands me a can of Coke, opening the tab before I
take it. I sip the drink, pushing the mail away.
"So, what did you have planned for the rest of Saturday?" I ask.
He leans down, cocking a half-smile as he kisses my cheek. "I thought we
could watch a movie and talk some more. I really enjoyed finding out that
you can't cook microwave popcorn," he teases.
I push him back playfully. "And I enjoyed finding out you dip your fries
into ice cream, you heathen."
"You said you did it too," he chokes back, eyes wide.
I shrug. "I do. But it's not weird when I do it."
Jordan rolls his eyes, small dimples fighting to pop out as he smiles.
"Well, I still want to take you out for dinner later. And then I'm looking
forward to having you in my bed without needing to wake up early. In fact,
that's my plan for tomorrow. We're just going to stay in bed all day, talking,
eating, watching movies. And if I'm lucky, I might get to enjoy you to
myself."
"As long as your friends don't turn up, I think we can manage that," I
laugh, wrapping my arms around his neck. "I'm yours anyway."
"And I'm yours," he says back. "And I don't plan on letting you go."

After dinner — a redo at La Cacciatore — we ventured back to his house,

putting a movie on. Jordan was right — the food was incredible, even if it
took us two tries to taste it properly.
What threw me off guard even more is the fact that we didn't even have
sex. We just laid together, talking. It's not that we didn't want each other —
it's just we get lost in the other's words. I love learning everything I can
about Jordan, and time passes so quickly when we are together.
 I usually get overwhelmed with company. I have a malfunctioning social
meter, and generally enjoy my alone time. But with Jordan, I feel like I
could just stay in his presence forever.
The next morning, I wake up feeling recharged and refreshed — and with
Jordan's face between my legs.
Little moans spill from my lips as I become conscious, his tongue already
deep within me as I wake up to a beautiful sunny Sunday.
"Shit," I mutter, hands reaching for his head under the blankets.
"Mm, I love when you curse," he murmurs against my thigh. "My little
fucking firefly."
Grabbing his head, I pull him up, pressing my lips against his as I taste
myself on him. He kisses me back, parting my legs as his cock nudges my
thigh.
"I want to feel you fully again," he says between kisses. "Can I take you
without a condom?"
At this point, we've already done it without one, and I'm protected against
pregnancy. I trust him, so I nod, mouth falling open as he immediately
pushes himself into me at an agonizing slow rate.
It's the polar opposite to our hot tub session, his pace slow and deep as he
makes love to me. There's no other way to describe it — our hands on each
other, bodies entwined as we fight our way to mutual climax.
He connects our fingers, holding my hands as he rolls his hips into mine,
kissing me like air doesn't exist. And when I feel my body start tightening
around him, the feeling of my orgasm rolling through me, he groans, the
two of us riding the pleasure together as we come at the same time.
"Fucking hell," he groans, putting his forehead against mine. "I've never
come at the same time as someone else before."
I smile, breathing raggedly. "Me either."
"You know," he says, rolling off me and laying on his side. "They reckon
if you do that, it's because you have a spiritual connection to someone."
This guy is going to be the death of me.
"Do you think we have a connection?" I ask, brushing his sweaty hair off
his forehead.
"Absolutely," he replies without hesitation. "You mean so much to me. It
scares me sometimes."
I frown. "Why?"
 He smiles. "It's a good thing. It just scares me how fast I'm falling for
you. It's like I've known you my whole life — not just a few short weeks."
"I think sometimes you just know," I answer warmly.
"I agree. I knew from the second you gave me that poor, drenched look
that you were going to change my life," he laughs, but there's sincerity in
his tone. "I knew you were special and I'm thankful every day that I got to
meet you."
I grin sheepishly. "It's a funny story to tell anyone. Did you see I got my
car back?"
"I did," he nods. "Now, don't drive into flood water again. I can't risk
someone else saving you."

Monday morning rolls around too quickly. It actually feels like my heart is
breaking when I stand on his front doorstep, willing myself to let him go. I
cling to him, our arms secured firmly around the other as we say our
goodbyes.
I don't want to leave my little happy bubble. And what's even worse, is
that Jordan has to travel to another office today. He'll be gone until Friday,
and while it's only an hour and a half away, it feels like I'm losing a part of
me.
"I'll be back in a few days," he comforts me, squeezing my body. "We'll
text and call each other."
I nod against his chest. "I know. I'll miss you though."
"I'll miss you more," he replies, kissing my forehead. "You've given me
motivation to get through the week. I'll be ready to get back to you and your
body come Friday."
"Make sure you drive safely," I lecture him. "Don't speed or drive through
water."
Jordan's lips twitch into a smile. "Ditto, firefly."
"Why do you call me that?" I ask, curiosity finally getting the better of
me.
 He looks at me, standing up straight. His eyes twinkle and dazzle, like
he's about to reveal an inside joke that's been begging to come out.
"Because your name reminds me of the sky. And when I think of the sky,
I'm reminded of all the nights I spent alone. And suddenly, in the darkness,
you emerged, glowing like a beautiful firefly."
I choke back words as I stare at him, my heart melting. He steps forward,
closing the small gap between us again.
"A few years ago I went camping with some friends in the middle of the
forest. I got up in the middle of the night for some fresh air and when I
crawled outside the tent, there were hundreds of fireflies glowing nearby. It
was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life. I didn't think I'd
ever see anything as beautiful and breath-taking again — until I met you."
"Jordan," I murmur, tears welling up. "I don't know what to say."
He smiles, little dimples staring back at me. "I know it's only been a short
while, but you mean so much to me, Skylar. I daydream about coming
home to you, being married to you. I know that probably sounds ridiculous
given everything but… that's just how I feel."
"I feel the same way," I confess, face breaking out in a smile as I quickly
brush away a stray tear. "I never knew I could feel this way about
someone."
He sees the tear, concern crossing his face. He grabs my hand, pressing it
against my cheek. "You're my firefly. I don't ever want to make you cry."
Laughing, I tilt my head into his hand. "It's good tears, I promise. But I
better go. If I don't force myself away now, you'll have to put me in the car
with you."
Jordan raises an eyebrow, a challenge in his eyes. "Don't tempt me. I'd
absolutely do that if you didn't have to go home for work."
He sees the indecisiveness and idea cross my face, laughing. "I'm not
going to get on Blaise's bad side. Go home, and I'll call you tonight. We'll
facetime so I can see your perfect face. I'll need something to hold onto."
"Okay," I mutter reluctantly. "I'll go. But please message me when you've
arrived safely."
Nodding, he gives me one last kiss. "I will. Have a great day, firefly."

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Sixteen

"You're worrying me today," Blaise says in the early afternoon. "You've

been quiet all morning and look like someone killed your dog."
I look up from my laptop in surprise. "What do you mean?"
He raises an eyebrow, squinting his eyes in suspicion. "You're different
today. What happened over the weekend?"
"Nothing," I say blankly. "I just spent the weekend at Jordan's."
"Something is wrong," he points out. "Spill it."
Sighing, I shrug. "I just miss him. He's away for work until Friday now as
well."
"Aw, young love," Blaise snickers. "But seriously, are you okay? You
weren't like this when you returned from Dickhead's house."
I laugh at his nickname for Jake, nodding. "I'm fine, I promise. It was an
amazing weekend. And we're officially together now. You know what it's
like when you are in the honeymoon phase — you want to be with them
every second of every day."
Blaise nods, understanding. "Where has he gone?"
"Sanctuary View," I tell him.
"That's not too far. Only an hour and a half," Blaise points out, the
information very well known to me.
"We both have work," I say. "Besides, he'll be back Friday."
 I turn my attention back to my laptop and keep working, but out of the
corner of my eye, I spot Blaise still gawking at me. Sighing, I look back.
"What?"
"You could always work remotely," he offers. "I wouldn't mind."
I laugh sarcastically. "Don't be silly. We work better here, and Jordan has
work priorities. I can suck it up. It's only a few days."
"I know," Blaise says softly. "But it could be fun. A little spontaneous
surprise trip."
I raise an eyebrow at him. "Are you suggesting I pack a bag, my laptop,
and drive to Sanctuary View?"
He shrugs. "Life is too short to not take chances. It's a romantic gesture.
Plus, I always enjoy going on little trips with my partner. It's a nice way of
experiencing something new."
"You're insane," I mutter. "It's too early for that."
Blaise hums in thought. "But you love him."
My gaze snaps back to him. "I do not."
"You're a terrible liar. It's obvious you do."
Cringing, I give him a pathetic look. "Is that bad that I might? It's too
soon, right?"
"Too soon for what?" Blaise scoffs. "Since when does love and feelings
have prerequisites? You can't help falling for someone, and it certainly
doesn't abide by any time restrictions."
Glancing away, I shrug. "It's just scary. I don't want to blow it by coming
on too strong. Even though I know he feels strongly about me too."
"So do it," he says simply. "Honestly, you only live once. What do you
have to lose?"
"My sanity," I growl back. "Or my chance at a proper relationship."
Blaise waves me off. "If this man is as crazy about you as you say, then
he'll think it's the best thing ever. Men don't often overcomplicate things.
We're simple creatures."
There's an edge in his voice, which makes me put the laptop down. "Do
you want to talk about it?"
"We broke up. There's nothing to talk about really."
My face pulls into a reflection of sadness. "It happened then?"
He nods. "I ended it over the weekend. We tried talking it through but he
just kept going around in circles. It didn't seem like he wanted to resolve it,
and I can't fix something he wants to stay broken. It's fine though. I didn't
want to tell you because I knew you'd panic about it."
"Blaise," I start, but he cuts me off.
"Sky, it's fine. It's for the best. I'm sad, yes. But also it gives me a chance
to focus on myself and the business. He was being a downer and I don't
want to deal with that. It's been rocky for some time and I gave it my best
shot."
"I'm not going," I announce, shaking my head. "I'm going to stay here."
Blaise looks at me, annoyed. It's a rare look — one I haven't seen directed
at myself before. "My life shouldn't be a reflection of yours. I appreciate
your support." His gaze softens. "But, I'm a big boy. You helped me on
Friday and I made my decision. I'm okay with it. You, on the other hand,
can't cater to everyone else at the expense of your own happiness. It makes
me happy to see you happy. And truthfully, I'm good with dealing with
these things on my own."
"I don't know what to say," I mutter.
Blaise smiles at me. "Say you'll pack your bag and drive your fine ass to
Sanctuary View. Even if it's just for a night. Go surprise him. You can work
remotely tomorrow and just come back whenever you want. Live your life,
Sky. It's time that you do."

I can't believe that I let Blaise talk me into this.

I'm sitting in the closed McDonald's parking lot at Sanctuary View, trying
to figure out my next move. My stuff is in the backseat — the laptop
included. I drove the hour and a half, heart racing as I made the most
spontaneous move of my life.
I still haven't told Jordan I'm coming, or that I'm here now. And I realized
on the drive down that I don't even know where he stays when he's
traveling.
Now, I have no choice but to contact him, otherwise I'll be stuck in the
car all night.
 Picking up my cell, I hit the facetime button, listening to the ringing as I
wait. Part of me panics, worried that he won't answer, but then he does, his
face filling my screen.
"Hey! I was just about to message you shortly. Great timing," he grins.
His hair is messy, the usually kept locks sprayed out like he's been running.
"Oh," I breathe a sigh of relief. "I'm glad I'm not interrupting."
Jordan shakes his head, smiling. "Not at all. I'm sorry I was a bit quiet
today. We had to fire someone. It was a whole situation."
"Geez. I'm sorry to hear that. It looks like you're in your accommodation
though?" I ask, heart racing as I try to act coy.
He looks around the room. "Yep. Home sweet home for the next few
days. It's not too bad. I like the self-contained apartments."
"You stay in an apartment?" I ask. "I thought you'd be in some fancy
hotel."
Jordan laughs, his voice more hoarse than usual. "Given how long I travel
for, it's just easier staying in a self-contained place. That way I can cook and
I have more room to move around."
"Throwing wild parties I bet," I tease.
"Oh, totally," he says. "I'm just waiting for the circus to arrive. Do you
think five kegs is enough?"
I raise an eyebrow. "How much are you planning to drink?"
"I'm kidding. It's just me here — in my little apartment on Fifth. It has a
nice view though, would you like to see?"
I nod, smiling. He gets up from what looks like a kitchen table, walking
over to the balcony door. Stepping outside, he shows me the view.
"That's beautiful," I muse. "What level are you on?"
"Fourth floor," he answers. "It overlooks the mountains. I wish I had a
beach view though. And you."
Biting my tongue, I continue to play along, my nerves easing. "Same
here. Are there many apartments there?"
"Nah," he says. "I'm in the corner one, which is room 415. And this is the
highest level in the apartment complex. So, only approximately forty-five.
The bottom floor is all business rooms."
Right. 415. Fourth floor. Self-contained apartments on Fifth. I can work
with this.
"Oh, I'm just getting another call from my mom," I lie. "Can I call you
back shortly?"
 Jordan nods, flicking the camera back to him. "Absolutely. I'll be here
waiting."
"See you soon," I say, quickly hitting the end call button as I snicker.
Pulling up Google maps, I check for any self-contained apartments along
Fifth. There's two sets — but one appears to be at the other end, closer to
the town center. Judging by the mountains, he's on the other side of Fifth, so
I pull out of the parking lot and make my way there.
Driving into the parking lot under the building, I'm relieved to spot his
car, confirming I'm at the right place. I park next to him, grabbing my stuff
as I find the entrance inside.
There's no one around and I make my way to the elevator inside, hitting
the button for four. My heart starts racing again as I coast up, muttering his
room number over in my head so I don't accidentally knock on the wrong
door.
When I reach the fourth floor, I head down the corridor, checking the
numbers on each passing door until I stand in front of 415.
Taking a solid breath, I knock firmly, blood rushing to my head as I hear
movement inside.
Please be the right door.
The door swings open and I smile in relief as Jordan appears in front of
me.
"Skylar?" he yells, rushing forward to give me a hug. "Oh, you sneaky
little thing. You set me up."
Laughing, I hug him back. "I'm sorry. You have no idea how hard it was
to keep a straight face. I nearly gave myself away because I was worried I
wouldn't be able to find you."
"You did well," he says with approval. "I had no idea. Here — pass me
your stuff. Come in."
He takes my bags from me, stepping back as I walk inside. I immediately
spot the table to my left, his work laptop open. It's an open space living area
and on the other side of the room is a lounge and television. The kitchenette
is to my right, some leftover containers on the counter. We pass a doorway
as I walk towards the table, and I assume it leads to the bedroom and
bathroom.
"It's a nice apartment," I tell him. "I can see why you'd prefer it over a
hotel."
 "Hotels are nice though," he murmurs, watching me mesmerized. "I'd
love to stay by the beach, listening to the waves crash."
Sitting down at the table across from his laptop, I nod. "I haven't been to
the beach in ages."
Jordan walks around the table so he can pass me, kissing me as he does
so, before heading over to his seat. "Me either. It's my happy place though."
"You should go soon," I encourage. "Life's too short."
Blaise is obviously becoming a wisdom, mystical guidance counselor, as
I repeat his words. But I mean, why not? He was right about this. It seems
only fair to pass on the advice.
"Absolutely," Jordan agrees. "There's a beach about an hour away from
home I love. And from memory, they just built a Hilton on the shoreline a
year or two back. I've been meaning to go but work has kept me busy."
"Just imagine laying in bed, listening to the waves," I mutter, resting my
chin on the palm of my hand, my elbow digging into the table. "Plus room
service."
"Don't tease," he murmurs. "I'm imagining being in bed with you."
I can't fight the smirk that crosses my face. "I didn't say anything about
me being in the bed with you."
"A trip like that needs to be enjoyed with people you care about. I
wouldn't want anyone else with me. Now, just give me five minutes to
finish sending this email, then I'm taking you to the bedroom for the night."

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Seventeen

I don't know how this man does it, but he arranged all his meetings to be
done on the computer for the next day. After a delicious breakfast, and an
even better wake up call, the two of us were sitting at the kitchen table on
our laptops working.
Even though we were working remotely, Jordan was dressed up in his suit
for the meetings — even donning socks with little red hats printed over
them.
I'm told there's an amazing steakhouse nearby, so we make plans for
dinner, heading there once we finish work for the day.
As soon as we walk in, I'm hit with the smell of food, my stomach
grumbling. I guess all this new exercise is making me have quite the
appetite.
At dinner, we polish off a bottle of wine together, and when we get back
to the apartment, the two of us curl up on the couch. My legs spill across his
lap, his hands stroking my shins as we talk more.
Before we even realize the time, it's late. We both need to get up early, so
reluctantly, we crawl into bed, holding each other as we fall into a blissful
sleep.
It's exactly what I needed — a little impromptu trip to spice up my week.
Jordan wakes before me, and when I emerge from the bedroom, he's
sitting at the table, deep in concentration.
 I sit down across from him, a gut breaking smile coming in my direction
when he spots me.
"Good morning, beautiful," he says warmly. "Did you sleep well?"
I nod, muffling a yawn. "I wish I could have slept longer. But this is the
best sight to wake up to in the morning." I wiggle my eyebrows at him,
smiling.
Jordan laughs. "Well, then you're going to love me when I tell you what
I've done."
I think I already do…
"What did you do?" I ask, ignoring the comment.
He grins at me from over the top of his laptop, a devilish glint in his eyes.
"I may or may not have booked us a trip…"
"What?!" I shout. "Sorry," I lower my voice. "What trip?"
"Well, we were talking about the beach and it made me realize how much
I want to go. So, I hope you don't have any plans the weekend after next?"
he asks sheepishly.
He just booked us a trip away. A romantic weekend to the beach!
"I'll have to check my busy schedule," I mutter, pretending to check my
cell. "Oh, look. I'm completely free."
Jordan laughs, shaking his head at me. "You're mean. I should have
waited to check with you first but I wanted to surprise you."
"It's definitely a surprise. A good one though. I've never had a trip away
with anyone before."
"Seriously?" he asks in disbelief. "Never?"
I shake my head. "Only with family, and that was a rare occurrence.
Never anything like this."
"Are you excited?" he questions, looking a little nervous.
It's nice seeing him look nervous for once. It's usually me.
"Are you kidding?" I smile brightly. "I'm so excited. I can't believe you'd
do that for us. It will be so much fun."
He relaxes in relief. "Thank God," he laughs. "I was worried you would
think I was moving too fast."
"Not at all. I can't wait. I'll be sure to pack my swimsuit. And just make
sure you pack the wand. I think we'll be needing that."
"I'm home, Blaise!" I call out as I step inside the house.
Reluctantly, I pulled myself away from my little impromptu trip. As much
as I would have loved to have stayed longer, we both have work
commitments — we're lucky to have the option to work remotely, but it's
best we don't take advantage of them. And now that I have a weekend
getaway to look forward to, I was feeling better about things.
"Welcome back," Blaise says warmly, emerging from his room. He's
dressed casually — in a pair of fitted black jeans and a dark blue cotton
shirt. Like me, he also looks better than he did on Monday. "How was it?"
he asks.
"So good," I answer, putting my bag down. "Thank you for pushing me
outside of my comfort box."
He smiles. "I'm glad it helped. And I saw you did all your work — I was
surprised."
"Why?" I ask, worried. "I wouldn't skim out on my work because I'm
working remotely."
"Ah, I didn't mean that. I assumed you'd be in Jordan's bed, away from
the laptop."
My face drops as I give him the 'are you serious?' look. "I'm dedicated to
the job. Give me a bit of credit," I mutter, poking my finger into his chest.
"Besides, Jordan had to work too."
"I'm just messing with you," he laughs. "You seem better."
"As do you," I point out. "Are you doing okay?"
Blaise gives me a small nod. "I'm getting there. On the plus side, we
landed a new client today. The contract and scope will be a decent sized
one."
"That's amazing," I gasp. "Well done."
"It's a team effort, Sky. I couldn't have done it without your help."
I tilt my head in confusion. "I've only done admin work. It's all you.
That's your talent and blood, sweat, and tears."
 "I've been able to be more productive because of your help. We're a team,
and I really value you."
"Thanks," I say softly. "I've never been told that before."
Blaise scoffs. "Because Marco Barfo was an asshole. But honestly, it's
going great. I'm happy to be as flexible as needed. Now, fill me in about
your little getaway."
I smile. "He was really happy to see me. And he even booked us a
romantic weekend away for the one after next. I'm so excited. And I found
out his last name — Harding. He's real and I can't believe it."
His eyes light up, a smile breaking across his face. "That's amazing. He
seems like a really great, genuine guy."
"He does," I agree. "I really feel like he could be the one."
"Let's hope so," Blaise responds warmly. "You deserve it."

In the days that pass, Blaise and I get sucked into the work. We manage to
make waves, smashing through targets and projects.
Jordan and I were texting and responding, but with both of us being so
busy and now with plans being made, they slowed down in intensity. We
still facetimed a little, but mainly just checked in with each other during the
evenings.
I was hoping to see him on the weekend, but he sent me a message letting
me know he was still stuck away and needed to hang around Sanctuary
View a few extra days to sort out the stuff with the terminated employee.
Apparently, it was a key position so they needed to fill in urgently. While he
was there, upper management decided he would be the best person to
conduct interviews, so it was a very hectic time.
It gave me and Blaise the opportunity to catch up — the two of us staying
home and watching movies. I know he is adamant that he doesn't need
support right now, but I can see the pain in his eyes when he doesn't know
I'm watching. The problem with relationships ending at our age is we didn't
just lose someone we loved — we lost a future.
 We spend so much time preparing for the future. In our mind, we see
ourselves getting married, potentially having children, buying a house. And
in the blink of an eye, that future is gone. So, it's not just the present we
mourn, but the future too.
Blaise is such a giver. I knew that from the moment I first met him. He
wants to help everyone, and he gave so much to Nathan. Juggling
schedules, making time to work with Nathan's work hours, and traveling
back and forth, it was a lot. And now, it was just for heartbreak.
But with endings comes new beginnings — something I have learned
myself recently.
We never know when another opportunity will come. Sometimes it's just
around the corner when we least expect it.
It's Sunday night and I'm laying in my room, researching the world's
deadliest aviation disasters when my cell starts ringing. I pick it up,
expecting to see Jordan's name on the screen, but instead I find it's my
mom.
"Hi, Mom," I greet warmly, pushing the laptop away. "How are you?"
"Hi, Moon," she says, and immediately I can hear the tension in her
voice. She sounds like she's been crying, and I sit up.
"What's wrong?" I ask, cutting to the chase.
She sniffles, and my heart breaks. I can see the conversation coming
before she even verbalizes it.
"It's Uncle Logie. Sweetheart, he passed away this evening from a heart
attack."
I gasp, covering my mouth with my hand. "No!"
"I'm so sorry to have to tell you over the phone," she mutters, distraught.
"It was unexpected. He was fine. Earlier he was helping out with work and
complained of a sore back. When I went to check on him after dinner, I
found him."
Tears spring in my eyes, my chest tightening up as I try to process the
news. My first instinct is to stay composed though, worried that if I break,
Mom will lose it too.
"I'm so sorry, Mom. Are you okay?" I ask, voice deeper than usual as I
fight back the oncoming breakdown.
She hiccups, and I realize she's crying on the other end of the line. "No.
But it will be okay. He's in a better place now. At least, that's what I'm
trying to tell myself."
 I shake my head, neither of us believing that. He's not in pain now, but his
life was still going. How are we supposed to move forward when someone
has just been ripped away from us?
"Can I do anything?" I ask her quietly.
"No, sweetheart. I'm going to meet with the funeral home tomorrow. I'll
let you know the details. But Uncle Logie didn't want anything extravagant
so it will likely just be something small and easy. He hated all that stuff."
A small laugh escapes my lips as tears roll down my cheeks. He really did
hate funerals, always refusing to go. He lived by the notion that life was too
short, and while death was inevitable, he wanted to remember people how
they were. I remember him telling my mom to just give him a Viking send-
off; on a boat, set alight as he floats out on the river. Unfortunately, we'd get
in trouble for that so we'd have to settle for something different.
"Okay. Just call me if you need me. I can come home anytime," I say to
her. I hear my dad's voice in the background, his deep tone comforting mom
and I lose it. I have to grab my pillow, holding it over my face to muffle my
cries.
"I will. Sending my love," Mom murmurs, and I manage a quick response
before the phone line clicks and the floodgates open.
Holding the pillow over my face, it's still not enough to silence the sobs.
My body shakes as I lose control, grief hitting me in waves I never
expected. Our family is so small that I've never lost anyone before, never
felt this level of loss. It's soul-wrenching — my heart physically hurting as
reality hits me that I'll never see my uncle again. I'll never hear him
comment on my funny knees, or how I'm the perfect mix of my parents.
He'll never hear about my adventures, or see me get married. Every
important milestone in my life will be missing a face, and I'm not prepared
to face that.
"Sky?"
I'm still so distraught with devastation that I don't hear my bedroom door
open until Blaise is standing by my bed, staring down at me with distress.
Quickly, I wipe my face, putting the pillow next to me.
"I'm fine," I choke out, unable to focus from the hazy blur in front of me.
"Bullshit," he whispers, sitting on the edge of the bed. "What happened?"
More sobs break loose, and Blaise reaches over, pulling me into a hug. I
flop loose against his chest, crying into his shirt as I manage to stutter out
the words between broken cries.
 "Oh, shit. I'm so sorry, babe," he mutters, stroking the back of my head.
"I'm here."
It's comforting to know someone is with me, but I can't stop the tears or
cries until eventually, my body just gives out with exhaustion.
I pass out against Blaise, hiccupping softly until the pain stops
temporarily and all I see are nightmares in my mind.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Eighteen

"She's in there," a quiet voice says from outside my bedroom.

I've been holed up in my room for hours, refusing to leave my bed. My
back is facing the door, and I hear footsteps enter behind me.
"Firefly," a soft familiar voice hums.
My spine stiffens and I roll over, eyes red and itchy as I spot Jordan and
Blaise standing in the doorway.
"Jordan?" I crook out. "What are you doing here?"
He's not supposed to be back for a few more days, yet I can't help but
wonder how he's appearing in my room.
Walking over, he kneels by the bed, grasping my hand. "Blaise contacted
me and told me. I'm so sorry, baby."
My gaze looks over his shoulder at Blaise, bewildered. "You contacted
Jordan?"
He nods firmly, giving me a small smile. "You need your people right
now."
Turning back to Jordan, I frown. "But your work…"
"Don't worry about it," he says in a soothing tone. "I've got it covered. I
want to be here with you and help you through this."
I try to give him a thankful smile, but it doesn't reach my eyes. I'm broken
— utterly smashed to pieces.
"Here," he starts, standing up. "Let me lay down."
 Climbing over me, he lays down behind me against the wall, wrapping
his arms around my waist. I stare at Blaise who's still lingering in the
doorway, his face blank as he watches us.
"I'll give you some privacy," he states, turning to head out.
"Wait," I mutter. "Please stay too."
He looks over his shoulder, puzzled. "Okay," he answers, despite his face
obviously trying to figure me out. He leans down where Jordan was
kneeling before, watching me closely.
"Can you lay with me too?" I ask, cringing as I immediately worry about
what Jordan will think.
Whenever I used to get sad at school, my parents used to lay on either
side of me, the three of us watching the stars. I can't see them at the
moment, but I just want someone on either side of me, giving me the sense
of stability so I don't tumble off the edge of the cliff.
"Here, I'll scoot over," Jordan says warmly, pulling me back with him.
"Come on, Blaise."
Blaise looks a little surprised but stands up, laying down on my left.
Immediately, I feel a small fraction of relief, having my two closest people
with me. It doesn't fill the hole, not even a little bit, but for a brief second, it
does give me hope that I'll get through this. People get through death
everyday, though I'm not sure that's the correct way to put it.
I imagine death is a concept, a life changing experience that while we
move forward, we never let go. Maybe each day will be better, and one day,
I'll be able to stop crying and go back to normal life — even if normal life
will be different.
I don't know. I wish I had answers. All I know is that I feel like I might
suffocate from this feeling, the consuming grief.
"Whatever you need, we're here," Jordan muses, stroking my hair.
"Exactly, we're here," Blaise reiterates, adding onto Jordan's sentiments.
"Thanks," I whisper. "Can you guys just stay with me for a little bit?"
My mom calls me the next day with the funeral arrangements. Apparently,
they have decided to have Uncle Logie cremated and will hold a
'celebration of life' get together soon. Given his birthday is in three months,
they decided to wait until then, so we can do a dual celebration.
She assures me everything will be okay and to be strong, so I decide to
take her advice and send Jordan on his way back to work. He's been nice
enough to stay with me, but I know he needs to be in other places, and I
can't stay in my room forever. So, despite every fiber in my body screaming
at me, I get back to work myself. The distraction will be good, and I know
my workaholic uncle would be proud. Nothing ever slowed him down, and
I needed to be no different.
Blaise was hesitant to let me do work, but I reassured him I was fine and
that I needed to focus on things I can be proud of. So, in true Skylar and
Blaise fashion, we had tequila shots while working — not enough to get
super drunk, but enough to take the edge off while I shared stories and
memories of my uncle.
It turns out Blaise had lost his dad a few years ago, and seeing his
strength, it helped. Apparently it's normal to want to shut down, but he told
me that in time, it would get easier.
At least I had something to look forward to. This weekend coming was
my trip to the beach with Jordan. I held onto that, clinging to the amazing
time I know I'll have.
Like last week, Jordan and I were both quiet. He checked in, making sure
I was still coping and when I assured him I was, he continued working
happily. I expected more, thinking he'd be a little over the top with his
messaging, but I think he knows space is good for me.
Truthfully, I wish we were speaking more. Even though I need space and
to focus on work, he brings peace to me, calming my soul. I know he's
under the pump with work, trying to get everything sorted so that we can go
away this weekend, but still. I miss him — I miss just holding him, talking
about random things for hours on end.
Blaise loads me up with work, keeping me distracted, and when I find
myself starting to smile and laugh at things again, I feel guilty. But then I
realize I'm human, and eventually I'll laugh at a joke, or smile at a photo
again. It doesn't erase the memories or the grief, but I will be okay, and I
know Uncle Logie would want me to be happy.
 He'd be so mad over all the tears I've spilled. And I imagine him scolding
me for wasting them on him.
By Thursday night, I'm starting to feel a bit more like myself — also
thanks to some shots of tequila — so I facetime Jordan. The phone rings,
the loading screen buzzing as I wait for him to appear on my screen. When
he doesn't, I frown. We had been texting a little before dinner, but now he
was quiet. I hoped everything was okay.
Sending him a quick message, I wait to hear from him, but a few hours
pass and I still haven't heard back. Deciding not to ponder on it, I stalk out
of my room to annoy Blaise, finding him in his bedroom.
"Hey, you. What are you up to?" I ask, lingering in his doorway.
He swings around on his computer chair, giving me a smile. "I'm just
watching Mayday. You've got me stuck on these stupid aviation disasters
now."
Laughing, I walk over and sit on his bed. "It's distracting though. But
also, I may never travel on a plane ever again. My brain knows too much
now."
He snorts. "There's more car crashes every day. I think you'll be fine. But
man, I'm hooked. How are you doing?"
"I'm okay," I say softly. "I haven't heard from Jordan and I'm a bit
worried. But it's been a huge week for him."
Blaise nods. "It's been a huge week for all of us. You'll see him tomorrow
anyway. Are you excited about your trip?"
"Yeah," I smile. "I think I need it right now. It's the only thing keeping me
going."
"It will do you a world of good," Blaise agrees.
Looking at his laptop, my eyebrows furrow in confusion. "I have a
question. How did you manage to get hold of Jordan the other day? I didn't
think you had his cell phone number."
Blaise grins at me. "I don't. But I'm an IT legend."
"Oh?"
"I stalked his Facebook," he says bluntly, revealing his amazing
technology skills. "You mentioned his last name so I did a search, and since
I knew he lived around here and what he looks like, I was able to find him
straight away."
"I didn't even think to check Facebook. I should add him," I laugh. "I'm
obviously the world's best girlfriend."
 Blaise shrugs. "Facebook relationships are so 2010. But, yeah. He
responded straight away and I filled him in."
Tapping my foot, I look at his laptop again. "I kind of want to have a stalk
now too."
"Why do you need to stalk?" Blaise laughs. "You're dating him."
"I don't know," I flush with embarrassment. "Crazy posts about ex-
girlfriends or just seeing what he posts about. I barely use my socials
anymore. I'm just curious."
"Okay," Blaise mutters, holding back laughter. "I'll pull it up. But you
could just add him, you weirdo."
I roll my eyes, standing up and walking over to him. I peer over his
shoulder, waiting as the page loads.
I'm surprised to find that a lot of his posts are public, his profile picture a
nice snap of him on vacation. Blaise scrolls down slowly, reading out posts.
"Boys' nights, family events, work stuff… I'm not seeing any crazy ex-
girlfriends."
"Everyone has a crazy ex," I grumble. "At least there's no posts about it."
Blaise rolls his eyes. "Or crazy ex-boyfriends."
I snort, nodding in agreement. "That's true."
He keeps scrolling, pausing at a large group photo from a boys' night a
few months ago. I immediately spot a familiar face, pointing to the screen.
"Ah, there's Kaden."
"Who's Kaden?" Blaise asks, squinting at the figure.
I stiffen, going silent. He looks back at me, pulling a look of
bewilderment at the pained expression on my face. "What?"
"Nothing," I quickly mutter. "He's just a friend of Jordan's that I met.
Nice guy."
"Right…" Blaise answers, not convinced.
He goes to scroll on but something else catches my attention. I grab his
shoulder, leaning forward. "Wait!"
"What?" he asks.
I narrow my eyes, looking in the background of the photo. It's dark — the
large group of guys clearly in the basement of someone's house. Someone is
visible in the background, only part of their face captured by the camera,
but I'd recognize those eyes and hair anyway.
Black, unruly hair, blue eyes and a heavy metal hoodie.
I stare at the screen, trying to decide if I'm seeing it right.
 "What is it?" Blaise asks again, looking at me.
Pointing, my finger touches the screen gently over the figure, my breath
caught as I try to find the words.
"That person…"
"Yeah?" he leans forward, trying to get a better look.
I swallow. There's no denying it. I know it in my gut.
"That's Jake."

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Nineteen

"As in your ex, Jake?" Blaise asks, pushing my hand out of the way to look.
"Oh, my fucking God. It is too."
"Scroll down," I demand.
He scrolls down, my eyes scanning over pictures. Every single boys'
event, he's there, lurking in the background with his friends. As we go
further back into his history, more photos emerge, some with just the two of
them, and even a few with Kaden too.
I can feel my heart ripping into two. He's close with Jake. Despite me
never having met any of his friends, he would have had to have known
about me. How many people look like me with the name Skylar that knew
Jake?
I've spoken to Jordan about Jake, told him about my breakup, opened up
about it. Because that's what partners do, right? You talk about your history.
He knew.
"Let's not panic yet," Blaise says quietly, though I can hear the anger in
his voice.
"I need to call him," I blurt out, rushing to my room to retrieve my cell.
When I check, there's still no messages from Jordan. I call, but he doesn't
pick up and finally, all rationally goes out the window. Has this been some
sick joke? Did he know who I was? Surely he would have been able to
connect the dots. If he did, when?
 "Is he answering?" Blaise asks, appearing behind me.
I shake my head. "No. And now that I think about it, he's been getting
more distant with his messages since I went to Sanctuary View. Fuck, what
if this means something?"
"I'm sure it's not like that," he mutters. "Why don't we try calling him
from my cell?"
"He's not answering," I shoot back.
Blaise grabs my cell from my hand, pulling up Jordan's number. He dials
it into his cell, and presses call, and I can hear the faint ringing.
I can barely keep still, my whole body on edge, but I freeze completely
when I hear Jordan's voice on the other end.
"Hello?"
Blaise goes to open his mouth but I rip the cell out of his grip, pushing it
against my ear. "Jordan!"
"Firefly," he answers, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "Is that you?"
I feel like the world is spinning around me, the room dancing as ice cold
waves sweep my body. "Why aren't you answering my calls?" I blurt out. I
didn't prepare for this conversation, the faint hope in my mind that he was
just away from his cell and not ignoring me. I never expected him to answer
Blaise's call, meaning he has his cell with him and watched me try to ring
him.
"I've just been busy. I only just picked up my cell and saw that you called.
I was about to call you back when you rang on this number," he says
calmly.
I'm not sure if the calm in his voice helps me believe him, especially
knowing what I know. I shoot Blaise a look and he gives me a curt nod,
heading back to his room to give me privacy.
I close my bedroom door, sitting down on the bed because I no longer
trust my stability to stay upright.
"We need to talk," I murmur.
"I know. I've been so quiet and you're probably trying to pack for
tomorrow," he answers. "But just bring whatever you like. If we forget
anything, we can buy stuff when we are there."
Tears spill down my cheeks and I didn't even realize they were coming. I
can't delay the question any longer, my heart pounding.
"Do you know Jake?" I ask sharply. "Jake Whittaker."
 Jordan pauses on the other end, thrown off by my question. A few
seconds pass and I check to make sure the call is still connected. It is, and I
wait a little longer, until finally, he answers.
"Yeah, I do."
"So, you know who I am," I snap.
Jordan sighs. "Yeah. I know you're Jake's ex."
The cold realization hits me, and I pray to whoever is listening that there's
a reasonable explanation for all this.
"How long have you known?" I ask, voice barely above a whisper.
He pauses for a second, trying to find the words. "I figured it out the first
night we met."
"And you never mentioned it?" I spit out. "I've spoken to you about Jake
before, and you acted like you were hearing about him for the first time."
"Skylar," he starts, and I'm frozen by his use of my full name. "I think
this is a better conversation to have in person. Do you want to come over?"
"Wait," I say, my hard voice crumbling. "You're home?"
Jordan sighs. "Look, just come over. We'll sit down and talk. It's better we
get this sorted before tomorrow anyway."
"Yeah," I whisper. "We're supposed to be going on a trip together, Jordan.
And now this just pops up."
"Come over. I'll explain then. Okay?"
I don't say anything further, hitting the end call button in anger. I need a
few seconds to compose myself before I storm out of my room to Blaise.
"I'll be back," I tell him. "I'm going to his house."
Blaise's face pulls in confusion, obviously going to the same place my
mind went but he just nods. "Call me if you need me, okay?"
I nod, turning around and snatching up my things as I stalk out of the
house, anger and hurt fueling me.
Jordan hears my car in the driveway, meeting me at the front door. As
soon as he sees my face — all the hurt, devastation, confusion and rage —
he looks down with sad eyes. He opens the door, stepping back as I walk
inside without a verbal invite.
Slamming my keys onto the kitchen counter, I step into the adjoining
living room space and turn around to face him.
"I'm here. Explain then."
"Let's just take a breath first," he starts, walking toward me slowly.
 I hold my hand up, stopping him. "I can't breathe, Jordan. You suck the
life out of me. And until now, that was always a good thing. But now… I
don't know what to think."
Jordan nods, his face firm as he puts his hands in his pockets, his back
slightly hunched as he stares at the carpet. "I know. I'm sorry."
"Explain," I beg, voice begging.
I need him to give me… anything.
"When you told me your name that first day, it made me suspicious. I
looked up pictures of you and Jake on his socials, and confirmed it was
you."
"Jake took me off his socials. He blocked me."
"I know," Jordan says. "He's an asshole."
I shake my head, not following along. "That doesn't explain you and me."
He lets out a long breath. "Jake got drunk one night and basically fed us a
bunch of bullshit about you. He made you out to be this overbearing, clingy
person. Told us that you were trying to control him, demanding all his time,
and was basically just a huge pain in the ass. He even went as far as to
insinuate you were cheating on him."
"I never cheated on him," I shout, but Jordan cuts me off.
"I know. He's just very good at twisting things. And we all believed him.
So, when I met you, I was pretty pissed about everything. I thought it would
be fun to mess with you a little bit, get some type of sick satisfaction on his
behalf."
Tears well in my eyes, unable to believe the words coming from his
mouth. He sees them, hurt on his face, trying to step toward me to comfort
me but I step back. Pausing, he looks down again, eyes squeezing closed as
he continues.
"After talking to you and hanging out, I realized it couldn't be true. Then I
realized I was developing real feelings for you."
I turn away from him, shaking my head. My eyes find the hot tub below
us, and something clicks into place.
"Kaden," I crook out. "He was in on it too?"
"Yeah," Jordan mutters sadly. "We just wanted to taint you, so to speak. It
seemed like a fun idea, getting to have a threesome with you, and get to
paint you as the whore Jake made you out to be. But we both realized
afterward that you weren't like that."
 I laugh sarcastically, wiping away tears. "Oh, but I am a whore, aren't I?
Because I let you do it."
"You're not a whore," he argues strongly. "It was just a bit of fun."
Pivoting around, I let him see the tears this time, shaking my head at him.
"You used me. You love-bombed me, knowing my history, and played me
all along."
"I realized what you were saying about Jake was true. Even though he
hurt you, you never really said a bad word about him. You were so graceful
about it. Then I realized I was falling in love with you, and I just wanted to
see where it would go."
Hearing him say those words was a fate worse than death. My heart
wasn't racing as normal — instead, it felt like it was beating slow, like it
might stop at any second.
"I was just some sick game to you," I mutter with a broken voice. "Some
retribution for your buddy. Bros before hoes, right?"
"Skylar!" he cries out. "It was never meant to get this far. But I couldn't
help it. You're just incredible. You are such a beautiful person inside and
out. That's a testament to you. You made me fall in love with you during the
impossible. That says a lot."
"It says NOTHING," I yell. "I can't believe you'd do this. I thought you
were different, Jordan. You said you pictured being married to me."
"I did," he says, and there's a change in his tone that wrecks me.
"Did?" I ask in a whisper.
Jordan looks at me, his own tears coating his cheeks. "There's something
else I need to tell you."
There's a huge lump in my throat, forbidding me from speaking. When I
don't answer him, he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.
"I'm moving soon. Work offered me a promotion two months ago. It's less
travel and more stability. I'm meant to be heading there in three weeks."
My shoulder slouch forward, but before I can talk, he continues, breaking
the last bit of fleeting hope I had inside of me.
"Because I knew I was moving, I've been traveling there to get things set
up. I ended up connecting with someone recently, just after I met you. I
knew pretty quickly that I was getting close to you, and that we'd eventually
need to have this conversation, so I was looking for someone who reminded
me of you. Someone I could be with, without the nefarious background. I
never expected to get those feelings for you before I had to leave. But my
plan is to move away in a few weeks and ultimately, this girl is waiting for
me."
It's worse than I could have ever imagined. My legs buckle, knees hitting
the carpet as I start sobbing. Jordan rushes forward, dropping down in front
of me as he pulls me into his arms.
"Get off me! Don't touch me!" I yell, trying to push him away. He
tightens his grip, shaking his head.
"NO. I don't want to. Let me hold you, please. I need to hold you."
I cry again, still struggling in his grip but he refuses to let go.
"How could you?" I screech between sobs. "I fucking love you, Jordan."
"I love you too," he argues back.
I manage to break free, crawling backward along the carpet. He stays on
his knees, eyes pleading with me.
"You are the worst person I've ever met. And I dated Jake!" I spit out. "He
was a coward. He blocked me, unable to even face me. I always thought
that was the worst thing someone could possibly do, but you've proven me
wrong! You're not only a coward, but a cheater and a liar."
Jordan's face cracks as more tears spill down his cheeks. "I never meant
to hurt you."
"Bullshit!" I scream. "That was your plan from the beginning. You used
me for your own personal gain. You saw an opportunity and when you
realized it was real, you ran."
"I don't love her! I love you," he defends. "I want to be with you. But it
couldn't work. Neither of us would cope with the distance. You deserve
better. You deserve someone who can love you like you need."
I shake my head furiously. "It could never work because even if you
weren't moving, I can never forgive you for this. You made me believe I
was something special for once in my life. And now, you've taken that
away."
"Firefly," he says quickly, crawling over to me. "You are special. You're
the most beautiful person I've ever met. I'm the fucking asshole."
"You bet you are!" I snap back, my body hitting the glass windows as I
run out of space. "Don't touch me!"
"Please," he begs. "Just talk to me about this. I don't want things to end
on a bad note. We can still go away tomorrow, enjoy ourselves."
I scoff at him, bewildered at his audacity. "Why would I do that? I can't
even stand to look at you right now, let alone spend a weekend with you."
 "It can be our goodbye," he murmurs sadly. "We can forget the real world
for a few days, and just pretend that our reality is different. We can pretend
we're a normal couple, doing normal things. I want that. I need that. I need
you."
"You lost me," I whisper. "You lost me the moment you started this."
Jordan hangs his head low, body shaking with silent tears. "I love you so
fucking much, Firefly. Please don't do this."
"Have you seen her since we've been together? Tell me the truth."
He looks up, eyes shining with tears. I know everything I need to know
from his face, his pained expression confirming my worst fears. "I was with
her this week."
"I thought you were coming to save me," I whisper, voice broken. "But
all you did was turn my broken shards into piercing fragments."
"I'm so sorry," he mutters quietly. "Believe me, you can't possibly hate
me more than I hate myself."
I let out a huff. "Don't be so sure of that, Jordan."
I'm starting to go numb, my body tensing up as my mind shuts down.
Every single inch of my mind, body, heart, and soul are broken — a million
tiny pieces scattered around me with no hope of restoration.
Jordan pushes back on his knees, looking away despondently. "I wish I
could fix this."
"You can't," I tell him. "This is not something you can save. I'm not just
floating in flood water right now. You've killed me, held me under the water
while I took my last breath. You killed us, Jordan."

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty

The two of us sit on the carpet, unable to move. Silence and time passes
between us, and when we've both stopped crying, I realize there's nothing
left but the lingering heartbreak for both of us.
It's dark now, the only glow from the town lights below that I loved so
much. I loved it here — being with Jordan, the nights we spent talking and
making love.
And just like that, the future I had started to map out in my mind was
engulfed in a blaze of flames.
"So…" Jordan starts quietly. "Where do we go from here?"
"Nowhere," I mutter. "We're at the end of the road."
He whines, rubbing his hand over his face. "I mean about tomorrow. We
don't have to go. I can cancel it."
I shake my head, my voice as monotone as a GPS guidance system.
"We'll go."
"You still want to go?" he asks, shocked.
"Not really," I admit. "But it's already paid for. You won't get the money
back."
Jordan looks at me incredulously. "I don't care about the money, Sky."
"I do," I mutter. "I guess that was always the difference between us. Or a
common thing. I loved you so hard that all I ever wanted was for you to be
happy. You always wanted me to make you happy."
 "That's not true," he argues.
"Don't mistake me for an idiot," I murmur. "That's how it was, and how it
still is. I'm letting you go, Jordan."
He straightens up, panic in his eyes. "What do you mean?"
I turn my head slowly to look at him. "I'm going to come away for the
weekend so we can have our final goodbye and closure. Then, I'm letting
you go so you can chase your happiness. You worked too hard to give it
up."
"You make me happy," he croaks out. "If it was a different time, maybe
things could be different."
I shake my head. "Everything happens for a reason. I just need to figure
out mine."
"Okay," he concedes. "Do you want to stay tonight and we can travel
from here tomorrow? I can work from home during the day until we are
ready to leave."
"No," I answer back quickly, standing up. "I'm going home. You can pick
me up tomorrow evening. But for now, I need space to process things.
Especially if I have to go away for an entire weekend knowing all of this."
Jordan stands with me, stepping forward to block my path as I try to get
past. "I really wish you would stay. Just so I can hold you."
"I'm not yours anymore to hold," I mumble. "But we'll pretend all is fine
this weekend and make it the best vacation possible. Then next week, we
will go our separate ways."
He grabs my arms gently, squeezing them. "I really do love you, Skylar."
"I know," I say sadly. "But love doesn't fix everything. And it can't fix
this."

My body is on autopilot as I walk into the house, everything numb. It

doesn't feel real. It's like everything happened in a rush, and just as quickly
as it started, it's gone again.
Hearing the front door, Blaise comes tearing out of his bedroom, meeting
me in the hallway.
 "How did it go?" he asks, face dropping when he notices my expression.
"Oh, my God. What happened?"
"I don't want to talk about it…" I mutter, moving to step past.
He stops me, cupping my face. "Look at me."
My gaze flicks up to meet his and when our eyes lock, tears immediately
well. He looks panic-stricken, confused.
"I can't tell you," I say through broken tones. "You won't believe me."
"What did that fucker do?" Blaise asks angrily. "I'll kick his ass."
I shake my head, his hands still poised on my face. "It's horrible, Blaise."
Blaise pulls me forward into a hug, squeezing me. "Tequila?" he offers
light-heartedly.
A small laugh slips through my lips. "It won't help. Nothing will."
"It always helps though," he argues quietly. "What happened?"
Taking a breath, I fill him in, watching as his face grows darker as I tell
him about each turn of event. When I'm finished, he's speechless, a
murderous look on his face that would make the Devil fearful.
"I'm going to kill him," Blaise whispers. "You can't go on this trip
tomorrow. Fuck the money."
"I want to go," I murmur sadly. "I need something to hold onto."
He shakes his head in disbelief. "Skylar, you don't need that kind of
closure. It won't help. All it will do is make it more painful for you."
"I know," I say, agreeing with him. "But I want to do what Uncle Logie
always did and remember it for what it was. Or at least, what it felt like."
Blaise rubs my shoulder. "I don't think you should go, but I can't stop
you. Just promise me that you'll call me if you need anything. I'll drive
there, anytime. If you want to come home, I'll be there."
"Thanks. But I'll be okay. Besides… if he's going to leave me for some
other girl, I'm going to make him really fucking miss me."
He looks panicked, like I've lost my mind. "That's not a good idea. Don't
throw yourself into the frying pan."
I shrug. "It doesn't matter anyway. You can't burn something that's
already ash."
"You're not ash," he argues back. "You're inextinguishable fire. But the
last thing you need is to cause an inferno."
I manage a half-smile, giving his hand a little squeeze. "I appreciate you
so much, Blaise. But I guess you were right. Sometimes you just need to fix
things yourself. I don't think we can salvage me, so I might as well go down
in flames with it all."

"You don't have to go," Blaise mutters to me as I linger by the door.

Jordan is in his car at the end of the footpath, waiting. It's been a day of
sorts — from crying to feeling empty, and crying some more.
"I know," I tell him with a sad smile. "It will be okay. I promise I'll
contact you if I need you."
He gives a sharp nod before looking over my head. His eyes narrow at
Jordan and I fight the urge to laugh, knowing the man that just broke my
heart is on the receiving end of that look.
"Be safe, Sky," he says, kissing my forehead. "Call me. I mean it."
I nod, turning and heading down the pathway. Jordan steps out of the
vehicle, and I have to give it to him, knowing that Blaise is standing at the
door watching him, he has the guts to face his actions at least.
Jordan gives a courtesy wave to Blaise, who doesn't return the gesture,
before opening my door for me. I climb into the car, giving Blaise a final
wave as Jordan hops into the driver's seat.
"Thank you for coming with me," he says, reaching for my hand.
I let him squeeze it for a tiny second before I pull it away, resting my
hand on my knee. "Let's just get this over with."
"Okay," he replies softly. "And I don't want you to worry about anything
this weekend. Any costs are on me."
"Good," I shoot back. "It's the least you can do."
He nods, pulling away from my house and out of sight of Blaise. "I really
am sorry, Firefly."
"Stop calling me that," I grimace. "I'm not your Firefly. I'm not your
anything."
Jordan sighs unhappily. "I just want to pretend that you are still mine for
this weekend. I want to go into a little bubble where it's just us together."
"You realize that this weekend, one of our kisses will be our last."
 He sucks in a small breath at the realization, his fingers stretching out like
he wants to touch me. "I… I don't want to think about that."
"It's true," I point out. "Everything this weekend will be the last. The last
kiss, the last touch. Our last goodbye."
"We could still be friends," he offers weakly. "We don't have to disappear
from each other's lives completely."
I look over at him in disbelief. "That never works. Besides, if you want to
give this thing with the other girl a real shot, you can't have me in the
picture."
He doesn't respond, staring at the road ahead with a stoic expression.
We drive in silence for a few minutes before I speak again, curiosity
eating at me.
"What's her name?" I ask.
I expect him to play dumb for a moment, but he doesn't. "Jasmine," he
says softly.
"Right," I nod. "So, where did you meet Jasmine?"
Jordan grips the steering wheel tighter. "Do we have to talk about this?"
I scoff. "Why not? I deserve to know, don't I?"
"Tinder," he bites out. "I met her on Tinder. Happy?"
Shaking my head, I'm taken aback by his attitude. I can completely
understand that this is hard for him too. But it doesn't matter. He doesn't get
a free pass.
This was his doing.
"And does she know about me?" I ask dryly.
"No…"
That answer stops me in my tracks. They aren't even officially together
and he doesn't even have the decency to mention the girl he's leaving
behind.
"Did you fuck her this week?" I spit out, anger starting to flood through
me.
Jordan whines. "There's no good answer to that, Sky. Why do you need to
know that?"
"Just answer the question."
"Okay, yes. I had sex with her."
Tears spill down my cheeks again and I look away, staring out the
window so he can't see them. He senses them though, grabbing my hand
before I can see it coming.
 "It's not like it is with you. Our connection is special," he murmurs, trying
to defuse the tension.
I try to pull my hand away but he holds it firm in his grasp. "If I was
really special to you, this wouldn't be happening."
"You are special to me. Even though this is ending, you still mean the
world to me. I'll always think that."
"That's not fair on Jasmine," I say through clenched teeth. "You're just
setting her up for heartbreak. You should at least try to do right by her.
Don't start off another relationship on lies."
Jordan nods. "That's a fair point. I'll own up to that. I did consider asking
her to be polyamorous. She's had some poly relationships in the past."
"That's not polyamory," I snap. "Polyamory is part of someone's being.
You can't just make yourself polyamorous because you want to be with two
people to satisfy your needs. If you're doing it because you have your cake
and want to eat it too, that's just unethical bullshit."
"I don't agree," he replies quietly. "People can discover polyamory at any
time. We discover things about ourselves all the time."
"Jordan," I grumble. "You already told me that you were fine sharing me
with Kaden as a bit of fun, but that you couldn't share me in all the other
aspects. You're monogamous — just own up to that."
He sighs. "I just wanted to find a solution."
"No. You just wanted to manipulate the situation so that it worked for
you. Sure — Jasmine might be polyamorous, but I'm not. Do you really
think I'd be okay knowing you're away with another girl? Hell, especially
since you'd be living in her town. I'd be the long distance fling that you can
occasionally see. You said it yourself. I deserve to be loved in a way that I
need."
Jordan relents, nodding. "You deserve someone completely. Not the half-
assed bullshit I could offer."
"Glad we're on the same page," I say, wiping the tears away. "Now, I just
want to forget about it all for now."
"Me too," he agrees. "Please just be mine for one last time."
I shrug. "I'll try but I'm not very good at acting. You've really hurt me,
Jordan. I love you so damn much. I thought you were my second chance at
love."
"I wish I could fix it," he says again. "I wish I had met you under better
circumstances."
 "The circumstances were fine. You just chose to deal with it differently."
Jordan shakes his head. "It never would have gotten this far. I think the
moment you knew the connection to Jake, you would have turned the other
way and ran. It would have been too painful, too much. You have morals."
"You're right," I murmur. "I probably wouldn't have pursued this. But you
let me do it anyway."
"Right place, wrong time," he mutters regretfully.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty One

The beach is just as magical as I had imagined. It's just a shame it's tainted
by lost love.
We check into the hotel, seemingly like a normal couple on the outside.
We keep our composure somehow, fooling everyone. No one would ever
expect that inside I'm falling apart.
Strangely enough, the smell of the hotel starts to do something to me. It's
fascinating that smells can trigger things for us — memories, feelings,
emotions. For me, seeing and smelling the bustling hotel lobby, it starts to
put me at ease.
I'm still hurting — God knows I'm hurting. But as the hotel clerk hands
us the room key, I begin to feel a touch of excitement. Even if this trip is
going to end on a sad note — a fatal goodbye — I get to enjoy myself for
two days. I can pretend that life outside of these walls is normal. Let myself
get lost in the relaxation of a much needed vacation with someone I really
care about.
I hate saying that because Jordan is the sole reason I'm struggling to exist
right now. But I still love him. I still care about him, even if I can't have
him.
I was once told that unconditional love is the ability to love someone
even when they don't love you back or when you can't be with them but you
still love them anyway.
 That's me. A love-struck fool, dying for a man who will forget I exist one
day.
He'll be putting a ring on her finger, watching her glide down the aisle in
a pretty white dress. Nursing children and growing old, only occasionally
staring at the sunset, remembering the girl from the flood. Maybe he'll stare
at the rain and be reminded of flood waters. Or orange sunsets by a beach
and remember whatever memories we make here this weekend.
Either way… I'll be a passing thought. He'll love her and I'll be the one
that got away. But it won't matter because happiness and love can grow
over time. One day, he'll love her more. More time together will pass, more
memories will be created, they'll find out things they have in common, and
every time that happens, our connection will fade.
And I'll be okay. I know I will one day.
It hurts now, just like it did with Jake. But I like to believe that maybe
Jordan is right. I'll find someone deserving of my love, and it will be right
place, right time for once.
I have to keep reminding myself that I was fine before I met him, and I'll
be fine after. That's what they say, right?
Fucking bullshit.
Love is a scar. And as time moves on, the scar will fade, but the initial
injury will always be there, a stark reminder of the love affair gone bad.
"Come on," Jordan says, grabbing my hand as he leads me to the elevator.
"Let's head up. Here, pass me your bag."
I hand it over willingly. If this is our last goodbye, then I'm going to let
him be the gentleman he wants to be. He can spoil me, love me… and I'll
love him back. I'll love him so hard that when we say goodbye on Sunday,
he'll feel like his heart is being ripped out too. And then, we can be two
broken souls.
For weeks I thought Jordan was my soulmate. Now I don't believe it.
Because soulmates are meant to last forever.
No — what we are is twin flames. Two pieces of the same soul designed
to find each other for a reason. We're meant to be a lesson, a reminder.
Soulmates are two souls joining, twin flames are one and the same. You
can't survive a twin flame love affair, it's just never meant to be.
The elevator button for floor twenty nine lights up when Jordan presses it,
and we stand awkwardly as it slowly rises. When the little ding signals our
arrival, he leads us to the room and I'm shocked to find we're in the
penthouse.
"You really went all out," I muse, looking around the room.
Our suite has a mini foyer, the bedroom to the right of the fork. A balcony
awaits on the other side of the bed, overlooking the beach. To the left,
there's two doors. One leads to a large bathroom, complete with a dual sink,
the toilet, a walk-in shower, and a large bathtub. The other door leads to a
living area which includes a large dining table at one end, a couch and
television in the middle, and a little seating area with a coffee table at the
other end — along with a second balcony door.
I realize we're on the edge of the building, the wrap-around balcony
giving a view of not only the beach, but also the city behind us. It's a
gorgeous room, and I know he must have spent a fortune.
Good.
I deserve it, the asshole.
"I did," he says softly. "I wanted us to really enjoy ourselves. I even
booked us a couples massage tomorrow in here."
"In the room?" I ask, confused.
He nods. "I don't want to leave these walls. In this suite, nothing exists
except us. The other world doesn't exist. It's just you and me."
I swallow, trying to not get overwhelmed by his words. "I could use a
massage."
Jordan smiles, appearing happy that I'm starting to warm up to the trip.
"How about we go downstairs after we settle in and get some drinks? Then
we'll get some dinner and bring it up here."
"Sounds good," I mutter, grabbing my bag from him as I head into the
bedroom.
There's a second television in here, along with the hotel standard cuck
chair in the corner. I dump my bag on the luggage rack, unzipping it so I
can change my clothes.
Not caring that he's behind me, I start undressing, pulling my clothes off.
I opt for a mid-thigh summer dress, the yellow fabric a bold choice. I want
him to remember everything about this weekend — every single thing I
wear, what I smell like, our conversations.
And truthfully, I want to remember them too.
Large arms wrap themselves around me from behind, startling me. I
didn't expect him to be so bold, but it makes me smile.
 "You look beautiful," he whispers into my ear. "Like a glowing Firefly."
I tilt my head down, not making an effort to push him away. "Thanks."
We're so close that I hear him swallow, and I hold my breath, waiting for
him to speak again.
"Come on," he ushers. "Let's go get some drinks into you."

We have a few cocktails down at the hotel bar before venturing outside to
grab Indian food. When we get back to the room, we set everything out on
the dining table, the smell of curry wafting through the air.
I sit down at the table ready to eat, noticing Jordan's still standing. He's
staring at me and I tilt my head in confusion.
"What?" I laugh, the alcohol making me feel a bit tipsy.
"Come here," he orders softly.
I raise an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Please," he begs and I roll my eyes, pushing myself to my feet. I walk
over to him, glancing up to meet his gaze.
He leans down, kissing me for the first time since everything went down.
His cool lips press against mine and despite everything, I kiss him back.
The familiar taste of home still calls to me and I let him, even though I
shouldn't.
"If you let me, I'm going to fuck you on every surface of this room before
the weekend is over," he whispers against my lips. "I want to remember the
feel of your body, the touch of your hands, the taste of you."
"Okay," I murmur. He looks surprised and relieved, leaning back down to
pick up where we left off.
Our kisses get more heated, the alcohol numbing me just enough that I
can enjoy this for what it is. I let him lift me off the ground and suddenly,
I'm sprawled on top of the table.
His hands push my dress up, ripping off my panties like he's desperate to
bury his face in me before I change my mind. As his tongue traces my clit,
I've forgotten about the anger, pleasure rolling through me like wild waves.
 I grip his hand, holding his head firm as he brings me to orgasm, the
sounds of my moans echoing around the room. When my high slows down,
he grabs my hand, guiding me from the top of the table and walking me
back to my chair. He pulls it out, waiting for me to sit.
"Don't be too nice," I scold playfully.
Jordan sends a tight smile in my direction. "I want to. Please let me. Now,
eat your dinner. You'll need your energy."
My stomach clenches but I ignore it, digging into my curry. When we've
finished eating, Jordan stands up, disappearing out of the room. I hear the
bath tap start running and I shrug to myself.
He returns a few minutes later with a smile. "I'm taking you for a bath.
There's enough room for both of us."
I laugh, following him to the bathroom. The two of us slip into the warm
water, the circular tub just large enough for two people. After we get out,
Jordan fucks me on the couch, followed by against the wall in the foyer, and
again in the bed.
It feels so normal that after he falls asleep and I can hear his rhythmic
breaths, reality creeps over me briefly. His arms are wrapped around me
tight, even in his sleep, like he's terrified I'll leave.
I struggle to fall asleep, the darkness my only comfort as I lay in his arms,
realizing that the hours are passing by until we reach the end.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty Two

Twelve times.
That's how many times Jordan and I have sex between Friday night and
Sunday morning. Not to mention that we had our massage, went for a hike
along the cliff of the beach, hit up the hotel gym, had our meals and
explored the sand.
It's a record for me, that's for sure. I'm utterly exhausted.
I made sure to touch every single inch of him, including waking him up
both mornings with my hand pressed firmly around his cock.
It's impossible to forget me now, the woman who changed his perspective
on love. Maybe that's his twin flame lesson going into his new relationship
soon.
I just wish I could hurry up and figure out mine…
As we stand by the side of the road in front of my house, it dawns on me.
This is it — this is goodbye.
Jordan's eyes are filled with tears, but I do my best to fight mine back. I
don't want his final image of me to be crying. I want him to remember the
woman from the hotel, the submarine driver, the oyster eater, the
spontaneous lover in the hot tub.
"Our last kiss," he whispers. His eyes glance at something behind me and
I know it's Blaise, watching us.
I nod. "Yep."
 "I love you, Firefly," he murmurs sadly, leaning down to kiss me.
I return the kiss, tears finally slipping down my cheeks between us. Both
of us can feel the goodbye from our lips, and I wrap my arms around his
back, clinging to him. He grabs my waist, squeezing me as both of us face
the inevitable reality.
"Goodnight, Jordan," I mutter, finally pulling back. His face cracks as I
refuse to say the words back to him, despite me wanting to.
Finally, he just nods, accepting his fate. "Bye, Sky."
Before I can change my mind and beg him to stay, I quickly pick up my
bag from the sidewalk, turn on my heel and stalk toward the house.
I was right — Blaise is standing at the front door, arms crossed as he
glares at Jordan. The two share a look before the latter climbs back into the
car, pulling away from the house.
"Are you okay?" Blaise asks softly when I reach him.
"No," I mutter, voice breaking.
He frowns, opening his arms. "Hug?"
I don't hesitate to move into him, letting him hold me as I sniffle.
"Did you have a good time though?" he questions.
I nod against his chest. "It was the best weekend of my entire life," I
confess wistfully. "I never wanted it to end."
Blaise gives me a tight, closed smile. "I already have the tequila poured
and ready."
Laughing, I brush away a tear. "You're the best. Lead the way."

I'm exactly back where I started — in my bedroom.

It's strange that we have our comfort places. After Jake broke up and
ghosted me, I hid in my room. When Uncle Logie died, I was in my room.
And now… here I am again.
The only difference is Blaise appears to be on a mission to check on me.
He pokes his head in at least once an hour, checking to see if I'm still
breathing or need anything.
 I'm thankful for it though. At the moment, he's the only reason I'm
holding myself together.
Rarely in my life have I found myself in a dark place. Not even the great
disaster of Jake Whittaker sent me to the graveyard. Yet, he has.
Fucking Jordan Harding.
I can't stop crying.
At least when Uncle Logie died I had good memories to hold on to. I held
onto the reality that death exists and that he would be in a warm, light-filled
place. With a breakup, there's rarely a reality check that can make
everything seem better.
I couldn't stop thinking about how Jasmine will get to kiss him, touch
him, make him laugh. The amazing memories I have with him are nothing
more than painful reminders of what I've lost. My future has died and with
it, a large piece of me too.
How is it even possible to feel this way?
I spent many months with Jake and despite the shitty breakup, I never
once felt alone like this. I was hurt, and mad, but I eventually accepted it.
Now that I know what is possible to feel, I don't even miss Jake. That's my
biggest problem. I felt a connection that I never knew existed and now it's
been ripped away from me in the blink of an eye.
"Are you okay?" comes Blaise's voice for the dozenth time today.
"No," I mutter back, the same response I've given him every time.
He walks in this time, sitting on the edge of my bed. "It will get easier."
"Will it?" I question. "It doesn't feel like this pain will ever go away."
Blaise reaches out, placing his hand on my side. I glance up at him from
the bed, my legs and arms tucked into my body like a little kid does when
they are scared.
"One day it will stop hurting. You'll find it again."
A tear slips down my face, resting on my nose. "What if he was my only
chance?"
"He wasn't," Blaise says firmly. "He's just a fucked up man. A life
lesson."
I smile regretfully. "Definitely a lesson. I just wish I knew what it was."
"It will become clearer in time," he nods. "Everything happens for a
reason, remember?"
Frowning, I give him a pathetic look, voicing the question that I can't stop
asking myself. "Why does it hurt so much? I didn't feel like this after Jake."
 Blaise sighs. "I suppose the connection to Jake is making it hurt. But
truthfully, I don't think that's the reason. You did nothing wrong. Even if
you had known the truth from the start and still pursued the relationship,
you probably would have still felt strongly about Jordan. I think it's because
of the honeymoon phase."
"The what?"
"The honeymoon phase. When you start seeing someone, everything is
rainbow and sunshines. You don't get the chance to go through the bad, so
it's all good. And it hurts more when it ends during that time because you
were in a place of happiness and bliss."
I nod slowly. "I guess that makes sense. I really thought I was going to
marry him, Blaise."
He offers me a weak smile. "I know, babe. But you're strong. I know
you'll get through this."
Forcing myself to sit up, I wipe away the tears. "I'm a horrible friend.
You're going through a breakup too. You shouldn't have to be playing carer
to me."
Blaise waves me off. "Please. Nathan and I were well past the
honeymoon phase. We both knew it was going to end, so as much as it
sucked, I've moved on."
"Look at us," I laugh softly, trying to ease up the situation. "Two single
besties."
"Think of all the mischief we can get up to," he grins. "You'll be sick of
me soon."
I snort. "You'll be sick of me long before I ever get tired of you."
Blaise shakes his head. "You're my favorite person to be around. You've
helped me more than you know. So," he says, changing the subject. "Are we
getting out of bed soon or do we need more time to lay down? Personally, I
don't think you should give that asshole the satisfaction of your tears."
"Do you think he's spiraling too?" I ask, hopeful.
It's a horrible thing to wish for. But nothing else could hurt more than
Jordan being completely fine while I'm falling to pieces.
"Men are weird creatures," Blaise mutters. "They compartmentalize
everything. Even if he does seem fine, I guarantee he's just avoiding it. One
day, it will hit him like a freight train."
"I keep wondering if it was all in my head," I admit quietly.
 He shakes his head firmly. "You know it wasn't. Don't try to make
excuses for him. It was real. We all could see it. And one day, someone else
will make you feel like that. But for now, live your best life and show that
asshole what he's missing. Let him go be miserable. She'll never be you."
"I hope he doesn't hurt her," I murmur. "Is it bad that I wish them all the
happiness even though it kills me inside? I think I'm broken."
Blaise pushes my hair back, tugging it behind my ear. "That my darling is
just a testament to who you are. Even in the darkest times, you're still
thinking about other people's happiness. That's what makes you a beautiful
person. Just remember: your happiness is important too."
"I don't know how to be happy anymore."
"You will," he promises. "It will take time but you will."

I manage to force myself out of bed, determined to not wallow any longer.
I'm no good to anyone if I hide away. I need to find a hobby or something to
distract me.
Blaise looks up from the couch when I walk into the living room,
beaming at me with pride.
"Hey, you," he says warmly. "How are you feeling?"
I shrug. "I'm going to go to the gym."
He tilts his head. "Have you ever gone to the gym?"
"Of course I have… a long time ago," I grumble. "But I read that exercise
is good for breakups. Endorphins and shit."
Blaise laughs. "Did you want me to come with you? I'm a member."
Shaking my head, I offer him a small smile. "It's okay. I'm going to go
sign up and see how I go. I think it will be good to do things alone. Remind
myself that I can do it."
He nods, understanding. "I'll be here working."
I feel a pang of guilt, eyes focusing on his laptop. "I'm sorry. I should be
working."
"You're on sick leave," he murmurs. "I officially decided that. You can
take a few days or however long you need."
 "Don't be ridiculous," I argue. "Millions of people go through breakups.
You don't take time off work. Imagine if I said that to Marco."
Blaise rolls his eyes, scratching his cheek. I notice that his nails have
been freshly painted their usual black, his silver rings a stark contrast on his
hand. "I'm not like Marco. And you've had a rough run lately. Your mental
health is important to me. Besides, a few days is not going to kill either of
us. You'll feel much better and be more productive once you've had time to
process things. I think the gym is a great idea."
"I don't know," I say wearily. "Let's talk about it later."
I have no intention of having any days off work. Maybe just today… but
tomorrow, I'm going back to living my life. Like when Uncle Logie died, I
need the distraction. If I'm stuck crunching numbers and typing in data, I
won't have time to think about Jordan. That's a blessing I crave.
"Alright," he answers. "But remember who calls the shots here."
"Are you pulling the boss card on me?" I scoff, teasing him.
He cocks a smile at me. "Maybe."
Shaking my head, I grab my keys, already dressed in the only gym attire I
own — a pair of loose shorts and a racerback top. "I'll be back, boss."

The gym smells of sweat, metal, and something else I can't quite put my
finger on.
As I walk in, I'm already intimated by the sounds of machines clunking,
large muscled men walking around, and a very fit looking PT at the front
desk.
"Hi!" she grins. "How are you?"
I swallow, nervous as hell and awkward. "Hey. I want to sign up."
She nods, reaching for a clipboard. "Have you been here before?"
"No," I mutter quietly. "I'm kind of new to the gym."
I'm worried about being judged, but she doesn't flinch at all. Her warm
smile against her chestnut colored hair puts me at ease.
"Well, I'm Jessika. I'm one of the personal trainers here. I'll take you into
one of our conference rooms and we'll go through the paperwork together.
It's just standard questions about your medical history and any existing
injuries. After that, I'll set you up in the system and you can explore the
equipment. I'm happy to show you how to use any."
I nod, giving her a small smile. Her dark blue eyes scan my face, sensing
my nerves.
"It's okay to be scared," she says, leading me to a little room behind the
desk. "Walking in the door is the hardest part. It's all downhill from here."
"I hope so," I laugh. "I'm worried I'll make an ass of myself."
She holds the door open for me as I enter, taking a seat at a small round
table. "You won't. That's what we are here for. There's other trainers here
during staffed hours and we will always give you a hand. Now, take a look
at the paperwork and fill out what you can."

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty Three

After the consultation, Jessika gives me a tour of the gym. I'm frightened by
the weights and decide to head straight to the treadmills. They should be
easy to work, right?
It's just running. I'm running from all my problems right now, so I should
be good at it.
Pressing the buttons, I start off at a walking pace, waiting until I feel
comfortable enough to increase the speed.
Slowly, I do so, getting into a light jog as I watch a television screen
hanging above the row of treadmills. I'd much rather be listening to music
and I make a mental note to bring my headphones next time.
This is quite easy.
The thought is short lived though around the two mile mark when
suddenly, my lungs forget that I need air and my knees start to hurt. Wow
— I am really unfit when it comes to cardio.
How I managed to fuck Jordan twelve times is beyond me when I
apparently have the cardio range of a sloth.
My fingers fumble, hitting the buttons to slow the treadmill speed back to
a walking pace. There's already beads of sweat dripping down the side of
my face and I'm thankful that I've come at a quiet time. There's only a few
people around the gym — mostly experienced people on the weights.
 I try to focus on my thoughts, thinking about plans on how to increase my
mental wellbeing when someone walks in front of the row of treadmills,
stopping in front of me.
My feet stumble their pace, my hand smacking the emergency stop button
as I glare at the person.
"Kaden," I choke out, panting slightly from my jog.
Standing before me is another painful reminder of my not-so-long-ago
past.
Hurt hits me first, until I remember the threesome and the secretive
reason behind it. Anger comes next, and it must be visible on my face
because Kaden gives me a weary smile.
"Hi, Skylar," he says. "Are you doing okay?"
"Why do you care?" I snap.
His mouth tightens as a look of guilt washes over his face.
He knows.
"I heard about everything," he tells me in a quiet tone. "I'm so sorry."
The machine has stopped, so I'm just standing in place, the height of the
machine making me nearly face level with him.
"You should be sorry," I pant out. "What you guys did was cruel and
heartless."
Kaden nods. "It was. In fairness, we didn't realize that Jake was such an
asshole. Jordan and I have cut ties with him. A few of us have, actually."
"Oh, how very noble of you," I mutter sarcastically.
"I'm sorry," he offers again. "If it's any consolation, Jake's not doing too
well."
I roll my eyes, crossing my arms. "I couldn't care less about Jake. He
made his decision to remove me from his life. I didn't get a choice in it.
Hell, I didn't even get any notice."
"I heard," Kaden says softly. "He's very childish."
"You're not much better," I scoff. "Using someone innocent for your own
selfish games and pleasure."
His face drops. "I'm happy to take the blame for it. But I really meant
what I said. I like you. You're a great person."
I hate where this conversation is going. I fucking hate that he has the
audacity to approach me. So much for the gym being a safe place to move
on from everything. No matter where I go, my past keeps haunting me.
"Don't patronize me, Kaden."
 "I'm not," he defends. "I really enjoyed meeting you. The whole hot tub
incident aside."
"Ssh!" I screech at him. "Can you not air our dirty laundry here? I would
like to keep coming here. Well, maybe not now."
He puts his hands on the handles of the treadmill. "Don't stop coming
here because of me. I'll keep out of your way, I promise."
"Your promises mean as little to me as Jordan's promises," I shoot back.
Kaden's jaw tightens. "He really misses you," he says. "He's devastated
about everything."
"I don't care," I lie. "It was his decision. He can wear it."
I hate knowing that little fact. But even though I hate it, it also gives me a
little sense of victory knowing he's suffering as much as I am.
"We're not bad people," he murmurs. "We just made a stupid decision. I
really hope you'll forgive us."
I step off the treadmill, the room doing a weird spinning thing as I find
gravity on the floor. "Don't hold your breath."
Walking away from him, I head straight to the parking lot, waving
goodbye to Jessika as I leave.
Well, there goes that plan.

Before Blaise can open his mouth, I hold up my hand, walking straight past
the entryway to the living room.
"Don't even ask," I shout, heading to my room.
I slam the door shut, scolding myself for my childish behavior, but I'm so
angry.
No.
Angry doesn't even describe it. I'm fucking raging, seething with the
power of a million generators.
I want to hit something. I should take up boxing instead, pour all my
frustrations out through my fists. The only problem is I have no idea how to
punch.
 My bedroom door creeps open slowly and I swing around, glaring at
Blaise wildly.
"Whoa," he murmurs, alarmed. "Should I come back?"
"Fuck the gym!" I yell, pacing the room back and forth.
He opens the door fully but doesn't step inside the room, instead watching
me with concerned eyes. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Fucking Kaden was there. Kaden! Of all people. Why does this shitty
town only have one gym?"
Blaise looks away, face pulled up in concentration. "Kaden… is that
Jordan's friend?" he asks, remembering me pointing him out on the screen.
"Yes. And he had the nerve to come up to me and apologize."
"Maybe he just felt bad," Blaise offers weakly. "He probably heard about
it from Jordan."
I laugh maniacally, tone dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, yeah I'm sure he
did. But that didn't stop him from fucking me in Jordan's hot tub as part of
their sick wicked game."
Blaise's eyes open in revelation. "Come again?!"
I freeze, my feet stopping on the carpet as I realize what I've said.
"Uhm…"
A few seconds pass, neither of us speaking until Blaise turns to his side,
rubbing his temple.
"I don't know what to do with this information. Do I want to know?" he
asks gingerly.
I cover my face with my hands in embarrassment. "Oh, fucking hell.
Fine," I groan. "Kaden turned up at Jordan's one night while we were in the
hot tub having sex. They kind of coaxed me into a threesome. I found out
before the trip away that it was part of their plan to fuck me over."
"They did what?!" he shouts in disgust.
I roll my hand in a wavy motion. "I did consent. So, it was nothing like
that. But yeah… that also happened."
Blaise leans back against the doorframe, shaking his head. "What the hell
is wrong with people?"
"I don't know," I mutter. "I wish I had that answer."
He sighs angrily, frustration present on his face. "Do you want me to hack
their cells and find their nudes? I can put them on Grindr or something."
Bursting out laughing, I giggle until I'm suddenly crying. Blaise pushes
off the doorway, rushing over to me as he pulls me in for a hug.
 I bawl my eyes out, hating how little control I have over the seemingly
never ending tears.
Blaise holds me, making little hushing noises as he tries to soothe me.
"I fucking hate this," I whimper. "I hate all of this so much."
"I know," he says softly. "Fuck them all."
Pulling back, I sniffle, trying to compose myself. Blaise uses his thumbs
to wipe the tears from under my eyes, giving me a warm smile.
"Tequila?" he offers jokingly.
It makes me laugh, the random inside joke between us. I shake my head.
"I'm okay. I just needed to get that out."
He nods, stroking the tops of my shoulders. "I'll come to the gym next
time. You can point him out and I'll deal with him."
"Don't do that," I groan. "I don't need you getting in trouble with law
enforcement. They aren't worth it. Besides, I don't think he'll bother me
again. I told him off."
"Good girl," Blaise says proudly. "Don't let them get you down."
I offer the best smile I can muster. It's not much, but it seems to help him
relax.
Wiping my face, I walk over to my desk, picking up my laptop.
"Right," I start. "Let's get some work done. I changed my mind."

I'm a fucking idiot.

I did the absolute worst thing I could do.
I stalked Jordan's Facebook profile.
Ever since we found those photos on his profile, my thoughts pushed me
to obsession. I know he should be out of sight, out of mind. But I couldn't
help myself. And I really wished I hadn't.
Jordan has changed his Facebook profile picture, his warm smile and
dimples filling the screen. It hurts seeing him. But what hurts even more is
the girl next to him in the photos.
It's only been a few days and he's already sharing pictures with Jasmine.
His friends are commenting on it, talking about how happy they are for him
and how he's punching above the belt.
I don't blame them. She's gorgeous.
Her dark brown hair and green eyes are a beautiful contrast against her
pale skin. She's smiling in the photo too, and I can't help but wonder if I'm
still his dirty little secret.
I can't tell if he's trying to hurt me or if he's doing the compartmentalizing
thing Blaise mentioned and trying to move on. From our history, I know he
moves at a fast pace. I had just hoped he would at least have the decency to
wait a little bit.
I thought he would. But maybe I never knew him at all.
My empty inbox is a reminder of it all, and thoughts plague my mind,
knowing that while he's disappeared from my life entirely, he's in her cell,
messaging her all the cute little things he used to say to me.
Later on, I take myself for a drive to unwind. I play music with the
window down, letting the cool air hit my face.
I'm barely paying attention to my surroundings but suddenly, I find
myself in his street, driving past his house.
I hate myself for it.
I wish I could just push him to the back of my mind, lock the memories in
a box and throw the key into the creek. But I'm stuck — obsessing over
everything.
As I drive past his house, my heart stops when I spot a little blue Mazda
in his driveway. A fluffy chain hangs from the rear-view mirror and I know
without a doubt he's in there with Jasmine.
Does his bed still smell like my perfume? Did I accidentally leave
anything there like a hairpin?
I try to push away the agony, begging for the anger to take its place. I can
handle it better — I'll run at it like a bull and a red flag.
Surprisingly, it comes easy as I notice his house lights on.
Does she know that he was with me last weekend? Does she know he
touched me and told me he loved me? Does he have a cute little nickname
for her like Firefly?
I'll never know the answers, but there's one thing I do know.
I'm sure she's lovely…
But I bet she doesn't touch you like I do.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty Four

After work the next day I decide to give the gym another chance.
I find that during work hours, I'm able to distract myself. But as soon as I
close the laptop, it's like a movie in my mind. Flashbacks torment me and
the obsessive urges return.
The best thing I can do is go to the gym and run on the treadmill. I'll be
too distracted trying not to die that I won't be able to think about him.
It's a little busier in the evenings — gym goers getting in a quick workout
after their day before they head home for the night.
I head for the treadmills, turning the intensity up straight away. It's like I
want to punish myself too — push my body to limits I didn't know existed.
Maybe if I can make myself stronger, my mind will follow suit.
Through my rage and torture I manage to run almost three miles before
my legs start to buckle. I'll be sore as fuck tomorrow but at least it's a
different type of pain to focus on.
I wobble like a baby horse to the change rooms, barely taking notice of
my surroundings as I concentrate on not face planting the ground.
Sitting on the toilet is the relief I need for my legs and I take my time,
letting out a sigh of contentment before I fix up my hair and clothes. As I go
to exit the single occupant change room, I jump as I nearly collide with a
body at the door.
 "Sorry," I start, but they push me back inside, slamming the door closed
behind them.
My eyes widen as I stare at Kaden like he's lost his mind.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I hiss. "Get out of the damn doorway."
Kaden rests his back against the door, blocking me. "You're going to hurt
yourself."
I look at him confused, annoyed that he is even concerned. "What are you
talking about?"
"On the treadmill," he says simply. "You're running wrong and going too
fast for a new runner. You need to pace yourself otherwise you'll end up
with a knee injury."
Rolling my eyes, I ignore him, nodding to the door. "Let me out."
"I can help you," he offers. "I don't want to see you get hurt."
"Well, you already accomplished that. I think I can handle it," I snap back
at him. "Now, get out of the way."
He hesitates, my patience wearing thin.
"Just let me at least give you a few running tips before you go."
My eyebrows crease in anger. "I don't need you to mansplain things to
me."
"I'm not mansplaining things," he argues. "I do marathons. I just want to
help you before you get hurt. I know you are trying to deal with everything
that happened, but I can't stand the thought of watching you run like that."
I cross my arms. "Then don't watch me. Simple."
Kaden sighs in frustration. "Start at a slower pace. Keep the machine
elevation at ground level for now. Try to focus on your breathing. I find that
two breaths in through the nose, then one in the mouth helps. I see you have
headphones today which is good. You can create a playlist of songs that
increase in tempo — slow beats at first, then fast, back to slow to finish."
I'm amazed at the tips, but it's not enough to extinguish my mood. "I'm
fine, thanks."
He ignores me, continuing. "You need to run straight. Your knees are
buckling to the sides. It's going to damage your ligaments. That's why you
need to start off slow and keep your toes pointing forward. I'd also
recommend bringing a water bottle to keep next to you so you can hydrate
as you're running."
"Can I leave yet?" I say through clenched teeth.
Kaden pauses, scanning my face. "I really do just want to help, Skylar."
 "You can help by leaving me alone. Even if you did mean well, you're
nothing but a painful reminder of things to me, Kaden. Not to mention your
part in this whole situation."
He looks down at the tiles, frowning. "I'm trying to fix it."
I'm sick to fucking death of these men trying to 'fix things'. Don't they
realize that you can't fix broken glass?
"You can't," I mutter back, exhausted. "You can't fix this."
I'm having deja vu, repeating the conversation I had with Jordan. Kaden
glances up, watching me carefully. He still doesn't move from the door so I
decide to take matters into my own hands, storming forward to grab the
handle next to his hip.
I tug on it, but he pushes back, pressing his weight against the door. Our
bodies are practically touching as I jerk the handle, trying to shift his
weight.
"Get out of the way," I growl at him. "I swear to God I'll knee you in the
dick."
Kaden's arms launch out toward me, grabbing my waist as he forces me
to take a step back. "Please don't do that."
"I'll scream," I warn. "I imagine the staff wouldn't be too happy about it."
He blinks at me, falling silent. I think he's trying to call my bluff, or
figure out what to say. When he doesn't speak and refuses to move, I open
my mouth.
I'm angry, feeling petty as hell, so I have no problem following through.
I start to yell, but as soon as sound exits my throat, Kaden's hand covers
my mouth, muffling me. I shout against his hand, my fists whacking him
poorly in the chest as I try to inflict some type of pathetic pain on him. Our
bodies shuffle around the room and when I manage to strike his throat, his
hand lets go of my mouth in shock.
Making a dash for the door again, he quickly realizes what I'm doing,
moving to block me again. I open my mouth to scream again, but this time,
he launches forward, pressing his face into mine.
This fucking asshole is kissing me!
My body freezes up in disbelief and panic, no sounds coming from my
throat as I try to process the situation.
"What are you fucking doing?" I squawk into his mouth, fists clenching
his muscle shirt tightly.
 "Shutting you up," he shoots back, using the opportunity to stick his
tongue into my mouth.
I make a poor attempt to curse him out, but our tongues end up meeting,
and before I realize it, I'm kissing him back.
My hands are still bundled into little balls, anger coursing through my
veins. Kaden snakes his arms around my waist, pulling me firm against his
chest.
He swings me around, pressing my back against the door without pulling
back from our kiss. I let go of his shirt, hands finding his tied up hair as I
grip whatever strands I can grasp. I don't care if I hurt him, my hands and
nails digging into his scalp, but he isn't fazed at all.
Ripping his lips away, they immediately latch onto my neck, sucking my
delicate skin into his mouth. I tug his hair hard as his hands grab the side of
my shirt.
Without warning, he pulls my shirt off me before I can react, my eyes
flashing with angry disbelief. His light blue eyes scan my face, narrowing at
my expression but he quickly kisses me again, pushing his body against
mine.
I don't know what starts to come over me. I hate him. I hate Jordan. They
can both burn in Hell. But I'm desperate for an outlet, and the petty part of
me wants to hurt Jordan just like he hurt me.
So, I do the unthinkable.
My hands reach for his shirt, pushing it up his torso. He lets me remove
his shirt and I fling it toward the toilet, hoping it lands in the bowl. I don't
see where it lands as Kaden shoves his hand down the front of my shorts,
fingers instantly pressing against my panties. He pushes them to the side,
stroking my slit as he nips at my collarbone.
I rest my head back against the door, eyes clenched closed as my body
reacts to his touch. I feel his finger slide inside, slipping into my pussy and I
bite my lip, muffling any sounds that may echo around the tiled room.
Kaden slams his finger in and out of me, my legs shaking from the
treadmill and threatening to hold me up. When I start to buckle, he rips his
finger out of me, grabbing the sides of my shorts and pulling them hastily
down my legs with my panties. I kick them off just as he grabs the backs of
my thighs and lifts me up, pressing me back against the door.
Our lips smash together again and his hand snakes between us, pulling his
cock out of his gym shorts. It digs into my thighs but he quickly positions it
at my entrance, shoving into me.
I wrap my hands around his back, intentionally digging my nails into his
skin. With each thrust, I claw my nails down his back hard, making him
growl.
If he feels pain from it, he doesn't show it, his response a harder, deeper
charge into me. I squeeze my legs around his waist as tight as I can, holding
him close to me. Kaden rams our hips together, his cock hitting me deep as
our tongues fight to the death.
I hate myself for this. But right now, I hate Jordan more.
I didn't know it was possible to hate someone you love, yet I take some
sick pleasure in knowing I'm fucking his best friend.
"Are you going to come for me?" Kaden growls into my ear quietly.
I shake my head stubbornly. "Go fuck yourself."
"I'm fucking you," he snarls back, emphasizing his point by smashing
into me with a force that sends me up the door.
"I hate you," I snap back, softly panting into his mouth.
Kaden reaches down, just managing to get his hand between our bodies
as he presses his fingers into my clit. "Good. I deserve it. But I'm still going
to make you come."
He rubs my clit while thrusting up into me, and despite my best efforts, I
can't fight back my orgasm any longer.
A cry starts to leave my mouth but he quickly sucks it up, silencing me
with his mouth. I clench down around his shaft, nails digging into his back
hard enough to draw blood.
He growls back into my mouth, slamming into me a few more times
before he stills, finding his own climax.
Before he has a chance to catch his breath, I unwrap my legs, letting
gravity pull my weight to the floor. He lets me go, and I shove him
backwards.
Quickly pulling my clothes on, I send a death glare his way, still angry,
but equally exhausted now.
"Don't ever touch me again," I snarl at him.
Kaden tucks his cock back into his shorts, fetching his shirt from beside
the toilet bowl. "I'm not making any promises."
I glare at him incredulously. "I mean it. I'm done with all of you."
"Or you could keep working your frustrations out on me."
 "You're fooling yourself if you think I'd ever want to willingly touch you
again," I laugh dryly. "Don't even come near me at the gym again, Kaden,
or I'll report you to the staff."
Ripping open the door, I don't stop to wait for him to be fully dressed. I
give Jessika a quick wave at the front desk before storming to my car and
driving home.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty Five

"Why do you look mad every single time you come home from the gym?"
Blaise gapes at me as I slam the front door open and stalk past the
entryway.
"Don't ask!" I yell, having another deja vu moment.
I head for the bathroom, slamming that door too as I take myself for a
shower. I need to remove all traces of Kaden from my skin.
I hate myself so much. It was a stupid irrational decision, one that I
instantly regret.
I've never been much of a petty person, but I lost control. I was so hurt
after seeing that picture of Jordan and Jasmine, and when Kaden had me
cornered like a frightened little animal, I lashed out.
Once again, I let myself be fooled by him, giving him my body when he
doesn't deserve it.
But it felt so good.
I wish I could deny it, but it was a better release than running on the
treadmill. The sadness is gone, leaving just the burning fire inside. Blaise
was right — I'm going up in flames, sparking an inferno.
After my shower, I wrap the towel around my body and exit the
bathroom. I jump, Blaise startling me as he stands next to his bedroom door,
an eyebrow raised at my frame.
"What?" I gawk at him, pulling the towel tighter.
 His eyes narrow, scanning my face before moving down to my neck.
"What is that?" he questions sternly.
My hand shoots up to my neck, covering it. I didn't even check myself in
the mirror, but I don't need to check to know there's a mark there.
"Nothing."
Blaise looks at me suspiciously. "Is that a hickey?"
"No."
"It's a fucking hickey," he points out. "You went to the gym?"
There's a mixture of confusion, concern and a little bit of frustration on
his face. I don't blame him though — I feel the same way.
"I did go to the gym," I confirm softly. "I ran on the treadmill."
Blaise stares at me for a few seconds, until his face drops. He's a smart
man, and it doesn't take him long to put together the pieces.
"I swear to God, Skylar, if you tell me you had sex with Kaden I'll lose
my mind."
I quickly try to think of a lie, but nothing comes. So, I try to deflect the
conversation. "Why would you think it was Kaden?" I ask incredulously,
like it's the stupidest idea ever.
Blaise crosses his arms. "Because you're mad. No — you're absolutely
raging like a maniac. If you had had sex with anyone else, you probably
would have walked through that door crying because they weren't Jordan.
The only possible person it could be to make you this mad would be either
Jordan or Kaden. And since Jordan is with that new girl, I can only deduce
that it wasn't him."
There's no words.
I'm caught out. I know it, he knows it. And there's nothing else in my
brain that I could say to defuse this exploding bomb.
"It was, wasn't it?" Blaise asks angrily.
I don't know why he's so mad — probably because of my stupidity.
Reluctantly, I nod. He throws up his arms in frustration, letting out a
stream of curse words.
"What were you thinking? Fuck that guy. No — not literally. Skylar,
seriously?"
"I was mad!" I shoot back. "He cornered me in the bathroom and
wouldn't let me leave. I just got so frustrated that one thing turned into
another."
Blaise blinks at me, running a hand over his face. "Skylar…"
 "I hate myself," I confess to him. "I just wanted to hurt him. And I wanted
to hurt Jordan. I lost myself."
He doesn't respond and I look down, guilt starting to wash over me as I
stand in my towel awkwardly.
"Am I a bad person?" I ask quietly.
Blaise sighs. "No. You're not a bad person. I can understand why you felt
that way. But Jesus — this is not good. Nothing good can come from this,
you know that, right?"
I nod. "I don't want anything to do with him."
"Even if you want to make them hurt, it's just going to hurt you in the end
too."
I look away, feeling ashamed of myself. "I know."
"I'm sorry for being upset," Blaise says, lowering his tone. "I just don't
want to see you get any more hurt because of these assholes. They don't
deserve you."
I shift awkwardly, still clinging to my towel. "I'd offer you a hug but I'm
in a towel," I murmur sheepishly.
Blaise gives me a small smile, relaxing finally. "I'm getting the tequila.
You're welcome to have a shot after you get dressed, but I definitely need
one."

I took Blaise up on his offer, indulging in three straight shots. If I wasn't

tipsy, I'd probably be concerned about my reckless behavior, but I think I'm
just so desperate for distraction and the opportunity to feel numb.
Maybe this is the start of my mental breakdown. I didn't have one after
Jake despite what he did, so maybe this is my sanity finally exiting the
building.
Blaise and I curl up on the couch, my feet dangling over his lap as we
watch a movie and eat pizza. I have to force myself to eat, reminding
myself that starving my body will not hurt Jordan in any way. There's just a
constant sick feeling in my body, making me want to spew my guts up. I'm
struggling to eat and sleep, even with the newly found exercise routine.
 My body aches from running on the treadmill and I'm thankful for the
physical pain. Who knew that physical pain could be easier to manage than
emotional heartbreak?
Blaise rubs his hand along my shin, eyes glued to the television screen. I
don't think he even realizes he's doing it. It's like he's programmed his body
to comfort me.
I stare at the side of his face, smiling softly. If I didn't have him, I'd have
nobody right now. Even with all my flaws, he still puts up with me.
I should get out more — socialize and make new friends to share the
burden of Skylar Ivy Nixon. I'm so awkward though I have no idea how to
meet new people.
"Stop staring at me," Blaise teases without looking over. "I can feel you
burning holes into my face."
"Sorry," I laugh. "I'm a bit tipsy."
His lips twitch into a smile. "You're missing the best parts," he muses,
nodding towards the screen.
I glance over, watching Uma Thurman slaughter her enemies. When
Blaise had suggested Kill Bill, I cringed, not a fan of blood and gore. But as
the movie progressed, I realized he wanted me to see it. Not for the gory
violence, but the revenge.
Apparently I do revenge wrong.
I shouldn't be fucking men in gym bathrooms. I should be slicing their
hearts out with swords.
Not sure I've grasped the message correctly…
"She's such a babe," I murmur, watching as Uma swings her weapon,
slicing off the top of someone's head.
Blaise nods. "She's gorgeous. Have you watched any other Quentin
Tarantino movies?"
"No," I admit. "I'm usually a sappy rom-com girlie."
He snaps his gaze away from the screen, staring at me in disbelief.
"Natural Born Killers? Pulp Fiction?"
I shake my head and he scoffs in playful disgust.
"We have a lot to teach you," he groans. "And when we're done with
those movies, I'm showing you James Bond."
My eyes widen proudly. "I've seen Casino Royale. My dad took me to the
movie theater to see it."
 Blaise narrows his eyes. "You need to experience Sean Connery and
Pierce Brosnan at the very least."
"We're going to be set on movies for the remainder of the year," I laugh.
He grins suddenly, shifting quickly. "Oh, little one. I'm going to train you
so well."
I kick his hand gently with my foot, laughing when he swiftly presses his
hand down on my shin, holding my leg still.
"I could teach you a thing or two," I retort.
Blaise lets out a hearty sarcastic laugh. "And what's that? What not to
do?"
I roll my eyes. "You're never going to let me live it down, are you?"
He shakes his head, turning his attention back to the screen.
"Absolutely not. Consider this your punishment."

I decide the next morning that I'm going to skip the gym today, too
mortified that someone will know what I did. Worst still, I can't face
running into Kaden.
I love my sleep — when I usually can sleep — but maybe I should
change to early morning workouts. I always look at people running along
the road before breakfast time and think they must suffer from some type of
insanity. Now I can't help but question and wonder what they are really
running from.
I guess all of us are running from things — work, family dramas, broken
hearts. A required skill of life is cardio but not the good kind. It all comes
down to how fast we can run before it catches up to us.
Blaise has to pop out for some meetings — new clients and existing — so
I'm left home alone to work.
When lunchtime rolls around, I'm stuck contending with the eerie silence
in the house. Loneliness creeps back through my soul, so I decide to go for
a walk to clear my head.
Putting my headphones on, I stroll around the neighborhood, ignoring
everyone else's lovely gardens.
 I really need to pester the landlord again.
It sickens me to find that going for a walk doesn't have the same effect as
the gym, my mind having too many opportunities to run wild because I'm
not fighting for air. All my thoughts start and end with the same thing.
Jordan.
I replay conversations, wondering if things could have been different. I
remember what he said to me at his house that night my world fell apart.
'Friends' he had suggested.
It's a preposterous idea, just like I had said to him. You can't go back from
where you have come from. Once the wounds have closed, the scars still
remain, and despite our best interests, the psychological pain will also hide
behind the marks.
'But you could try…'
I shake my head, having an internal brain with myself. I know we can't.
Can we?
No.
Definitely not. I can't bring myself to see him with Jasmine — even
though I want him to be happy.
'But you're an adult. You can be mature about this. People stay friends
after relationships all the time. It will get easier. You'll fall out of love with
him.'
It's a whirlwind battle, my subconscious trying to convince the rational
part of my brain that perhaps I could have it all.
Falling out of love with him is probably the greatest lie I can tell myself.
And I want to believe it so bad.
Even though I hurt and hate him for what he did, I still miss him as a
person. We had a connection like no other, and I genuinely miss him in my
life.
I miss our conversations and friendly banter, our ability to talk for hours
on end.
Most of all, I miss just hearing about his day — the boring work
meetings, the insubordinate staff, what he ate for lunch.
I miss him. And it hurts so much.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty Six

Staring at my cell screen, I curse myself, trying to talk my brain out of this
very foolish idea.
I'm sitting on the edge of my bed, legs swinging with pent up nerves as I
frown at his name on my screen.
'Don't do it' I tell myself, but my fingers have a mind of his own, clicking
the call button before my brain can catch up and stop me.
I'll just ask about his day — see if he's coping okay. Offer the proverbial
friendship branch.
I wait with the cell against my ear, frowning when it doesn't ring.
Suddenly, it beeps, returning to the call log.
"That's strange," I mutter, trying again.
The same thing happens again, so I decide to send a text message, just in
case he sees the missed calls and wonders what's going on.
Me: Hey, it's just me. I just wanted to reach out and see how you were
going. I was thinking, maybe we could try the friendship thing. Anyway, I
hope you are well.
I hit send, letting out a shaky breath. But suddenly, I suck air back in
again as I notice something.
My text messages are green.
The long string of messages before today are blue, but not this one.
It takes me a few seconds, but a crushing realization hits me.
 He's blocked my number.
"You fucking asshole," I yell, flinging my cell across the room before I
can stop myself.
Tears pour down my face and I sob into my knees, hunched over as fresh
pain and anger comes back. I had convinced myself that we could be
friends — that I didn't have to lose him completely. And now he's done this.
He knew that it killed me when Jake blocked me. And now he's done the
exact same.
I don't deserve this.
Picking myself up, I walk over to my discarded cell, checking for
damage. Thankfully it hasn't cracked because of the case and screen
protector and I feel a brief wave of relief. It's gone quickly though as pain
rips through me.
Another coward, another broken promise.
My crying continues for the next hour, until eventually, I run out of tears.
I walk to the kitchen, fetching the bottle of tequila from the cupboard. We're
getting low — all our late night shots emptying our coping liquor.
I pour a shot, smashing it back before immediately refilling it. I drink that
too, tempted to fling the glass.
If I'm broken, then everything else should be too. It's not fair that I'm the
only one. Everywhere I look, people are happy.
Why don't I deserve happiness too?
I'm a good person. My only mistake was loving too hard and fast.
It should be a crime to love. When things go south, the bad outweighs the
good, and there's no coming back from a wreckage so colossal.
I know three shots of tequila is usually my limit, but there's enough for
five shots — so I drink them all.
I bypass the tipsy stage, going straight to drunk. When Blaise arrives
back home, dressed in smart casual business attire, he finds me spread out
like an angel on the living room floor.
"Do I even want to know?" he asks, staring at the empty bottle of tequila
next to me.
"Tis better not to sask," I slur.
Blaise pops his bag down, walking over so he's looking down at me. I
blink up at him, too numb to cry and too drunk to move.
"What happened?" he questions, concern crossing his features.
I wave my hand, mesmerized when little strings of light make a trail path.
 "I'm a motherfucking fluffing fairy," I murmur, eyes wide as I stare at my
hand.
He purses his lips, looking at me like I've completely lost every ounce of
sanity. "Sky, can you stand up?"
"Yeah!" I shout excitedly. I roll over on my stomach, pushing myself to
my knees. As I get to my feet, the room sways and the trail of fairy lights
get brighter. I try to follow them, spinning around, but I overbalance, falling
back to Earth.
Blaise yelps, catching me as I fall back. "What are you doing?"
"There's flights! I mean… lights!"
"There's no lights. You're just drunk," he grumbles, repositioning himself
to scoop me up in his arms. "You're going to bed."
I groan. "But I wanna be a fairy queen."
"Alright, fairy queen. Off to your magical chariot you go."
The roof sways back and forth as he carries me to my room, my back
hitting the mattress. I blink up at him, smiling brightly.
Blaise smiles back, but it's not a happy one. It's a forced one — and I
wave at him.
"Get some sleep," he mutters with a sigh. "I'll check on you later. Do
NOT get off the bed."
"What if I need to pee?" I shoot back, groaning as I try to sit up. I fall
back down, the back of my head hitting my cell that I left in here.
He doesn't answer, closing the door behind him. I shrug to myself,
picking up my cell and dropping it on my face.
After that I just give up, curling up with my pillow as the fairies take me
away.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Groaning, I reach blindly for my cell to turn the alarm off, head pounding
as sunlight hits me in the face.
I have no idea how long I've been asleep for, but whatever it is, it's not
long enough.
 Peeking one eye open, I look at the screen. It's not my alarm going off but
a phone call.
And Jordan's name is flashing at me.
Fuck.
I forgot about that.
Swallowing, I hit the accept button, putting the cell to my ear.
"Hello?" I mutter, grogginess still in my voice.
"Hi."
The sound of his voice immediately stills me, the familiarity bringing
back the old sense of peace.
I sit up, taking a deep breath as I try to ignore the jackhammers in my
brain.
"How are you?" I ask, squeezing my eyes shut.
"I'm fine," Jordan says coolly. "I saw that you called."
A vice grips my heart, squeezing it. There's a difference in his tone and
it's making me feel uneasy.
"Yeah, I did," I confess. "I think you blocked my number though."
I'm too tired to beat around the bush. This is the consequence of my
actions. I might as well face them.
Jordan goes quiet for a second. "Yeah, I did."
"Oh," I mutter, hurt. "Why?"
He sighs. "I was with Jasmine. I didn't want you to call. You have the
most opportunistic timing whenever you ring."
It's dripping in sarcasm, and I feel like I can't breathe.
Who even is this guy?
"I'm sorry," I respond quietly. "I didn't know. You could have just asked
me not to call."
"I didn't think you would," he admits. "But since you have: what can I
help you with?"
I'm on edge, uneasy about this conversation. Never in my wildest dreams
could I have pictured it going this way. He's cold, sounding annoyed that
I've bothered him.
"How did you even see I called if you had me blocked?" I question,
holding onto some small shred of hope.
"It's in the blocked call log. What do you want, Skylar?"
My head pounds and tears well in my eyes.
I've made a huge mistake.
 Swallowing, I force myself to stay composed. "I thought about what you
said. Maybe we could give the friendship thing a try," I say hopefully.
Jordan falls silent and I wonder if I've caught him off-guard. Finally, he
sighs again, clearing his throat.
"Yeah, okay," he starts, dismissively. "We're friends then."
My eyebrows furrow. There's no hint of sincerity or relief in his voice,
like he's just telling me what I want to hear.
"We don't have to be," I mumble. "I just thought it would be nice to stay
in each other's lives. We got along so well, even just as people."
His voice cracks slightly. "I know."
A heart gives a small fluster as I hear the old Jordan coming back.
It's going to be okay. This could work.
"I've been thinking about you," I say quietly. "I wanted to check that
you're doing okay. I'm sure you've been wondering the same."
"Until you called, I forgot you existed."
And just like that, the last single thread of hope turned to ash.
I blink back tears unsuccessfully, shaking my head in disbelief despite the
pounding headache. I try my hardest to keep my voice strong, but it comes
out croaky and broken.
"You said you wished you were married to me. That you wanted to come
home to me every day. How can you say that?"
He exhales — a long sigh again following. "Listen, I said some things in
the heat of the moment. It was wrong of me, but I got carried away. I did
like you, but I think you liked me more."
It's juvenile, the bullshit streaming from his lips. But even though a small
rational piece of me argues he's lying, my chest is aching so loud it silences
the evidence.
"Right," I mutter, the word squeaking at the end. "So, that's it then?"
"That's it. We had our time together and now it's time to move on. I'm
happy with Jasmine. I just want to spend time with her without worrying
about these types of things. But if you want to be friends, we can be
friends," he offers again dryly, sounding almost bored.
He's dissociating from the situation, trying to put up a tough front but you
don't share a bed with someone and not learn about their wonderful
personality traits. Especially when you spend hours talking every day. But
despite knowing this whole conversation is heated with hurt, I accept it on
its face value, nodding to myself.
 "Fine. Friends," I say in defeat, knowing full well that our promise would
never come to fruition. Like every other promise and breathy fantasy we
told each other, it's another lie we have to tell ourselves to pretend our
world isn't shattering beneath us.
"I have to go," Jordan mutters. "Take care, Skylar."
The line clicks in my ear and I slowly lower my cell, resisting the urge to
throw it against my bedroom wall again.
Instead, I check the time, noticing it's only 7am.
As much as I'd love to fall back asleep, I can't. I'm hurting so bad — my
mind crashing and burning at our call.
I never knew that side of Jordan existed. But I shouldn't be surprised
considering what he did to me. I saw only what he wanted me to see, and
now the true Jordan is emerging.
A small fraction of me panics, wondering if Kaden told him what
happened. Maybe he did and that's why he's mad. But surely he would have
mentioned it, threw it back in my face or something.
I can't even bring myself to cry. My entire body feels like it's made of ice,
except for my head that's still screaming at me.
I force myself up, heading for the bathroom. As I start rummaging around
the cabinet behind the mirror for painkillers, Blaise walks out of his room,
dressed in black shorts and a gray shirt.
"What are you doing?" he groans, rubbing his eyes. "How are you even
awake?"
Closing the mirror, I turn around to face him. Even though I'm not crying,
the conversation is written all over my face, invisible letters and cuts
scarring me.
"I'm sorry for waking you," I blurt out, voice breaking. "I just need some
painkillers."
Blaise frowns, leaning against the bathroom door frame. "Do you want to
talk about it?"
I'm not sure if he's referring to last night or this morning, but I just shake
my head. He nods, moving so I can walk past.
I head into the kitchen, filling a glass with tap water. Downing the
painkillers and the entire glass, I get to making some pity coffee. It's the
least I can do for waking him. We're not meant to start work for another two
hours.
 My hands fumble as I try to grab the coffee pot and Blaise walks in,
stepping in behind me.
"Whoa. Let me do it."
"I got it," I tell him.
Blaise puts the coffee pot down, resting his hands on the sides of my
arms. "You're shaking."
"Bad dream," I lie. "And I have a massive headache."
He doesn't question me, using his hands to turn me toward the door. "Go
sit down on the couch. I'll sort out the coffee."
Begrudgingly, I give in, walking out to the living room. I flop down onto
the couch, covering my eyes with my hand to shield the light.
I hear Blaise moving around the kitchen, the smell of freshly brewed
coffee hitting my senses.
Footsteps stop at the end of the couch and I peer at him through my
fingers. His hair is messy, but beside that, he looks a damn sight better than
I do.
"I heard you," he admits quietly.
I just stare back, my face void of emotion. "It's over," I tell him. "It's
officially done."
Blaise nods slowly. "I think you knew that, but deep down you wanted to
hold onto that connection."
"I tried to call him yesterday but my number was blocked."
He scowls. "Coward. Just like his friend."
At least someone gets it…
"Oh, well," I mutter quietly. "At least now I can let him go. I didn't think
he could hurt me anymore than he already did, but he's full of surprises."
Blaise reaches for my foot, rubbing it. "What did he say?"
"Nothing important," I mutter sadly. "But at least I know where I stand
now."
He squeezes my foot, massaging the bottom of it with his thumb. "You
deserve better. Cut him loose now."
I nod, finally agreeing with him. "I want to forget I ever met him," I
admit softly. "I wish I could go back and start again."
Blaise leans on the armrest of the chair, still holding onto me. "This will
make you stronger. You'll see that one day. Just take it one day at a time.
And if that's too hard — one hour at a time."
 "When does the pain stop?" I ask. "When did you stop thinking about
Nathan?"
His eyebrows furrow as he thinks hard. "Every day that passed, it became
less and less. Now, I just feel nothing. I accept it happened and I'm happy it
did, but life's too short to cry over assholes."
"I think I'm out of tears."
A tiny smile breaks out on his face. "That's a start."
"We need coffee before work. And I need a shower," I groan. "We're
going to have a productive day. I'm determined."
Blaise steps back, looking inside the kitchen to check. "I'll pour you a cup
while you shower. And no more tequila — I'm not going to be able to keep
up with you if you keep smashing shots like there's no tomorrow."

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty Seven

"Fuck!" I hear Blaise hiss from his bedroom.

Curiously, I poke my head out of my own room, staring at his closed
door. "You okay?" I yell.
I hear more curse words and movements before he swings his door open,
an annoyed look on his face.
"My asshole brother is getting married."
"And that's a problem?" I ask, confused.
Blaise sighs. "Of course not. I love him and I'm so damn happy he's
getting married. But as much as I do love him, he drives me insane."
I snort. "That's normal for siblings I expect."
"Says the only child."
"What's the problem?" I roll my eyes.
He leans against his door, arms folded. "Well, since Dad isn't able to be
there, he asked if I would walk him down the aisle. Don't even get me
started about walking the groom down the aisle, but that's not the issue."
My eyebrows furrow. "What's the issue then?"
Blaise shakes his head. "Alfie has OCD. And the RSVP deadline has
passed so final numbers have been locked in. Unfortunately, since Nathan is
no longer attending with me, Alfie is mad that I've put the wedding numbers
at an odd count."
 "People might pull out on the day," I offer sheepishly. "Illnesses and
things."
He holds up his hand. "Don't even get me started on that. But anyway, he
is demanding that I bring a plus one so that I don't ruin his seating chart."
I burst out laughing while Blaise scowls at me. "That's your biggest
problem right now? Man, I wish I had your life."
Blaise tilts his head. "Let's not compare apples to oranges. But since you
wish you had my life, I hope you're free in two weeks."
"Me?" I stutter. "I've never even met your family."
"Well, too bad," he says, stepping inside his bedroom and partially
closing the door. "Because I would rather deal with your rage than my
brother's. So find a nice dress because you're coming with me."

Out of boredom, I decide to download Tinder. I've never used dating apps
before but since my recent Google searches have messed up my algorithm,
I'm constantly getting ads about single life.
What's the worst that can happen? I swipe right on a few losers before I
give up and hope that someone climbs through my bedroom window to
sweep me off my feet?
I snap a few pictures for my profile, writing the world's most boring bio. I
never know what to tell people about myself.
Pathetic 29-year old with a broken heart. Makes stupid decisions. Drinks
tequila. Occasionally engages in threesomes and has sex in the gym
bathroom.
That's the truth. But we never put the full truth forward when introducing
ourselves to people. We want to be a fantasy, flawless — give them time to
get feelings before they start dealing with all the baggage.
Instead, I opt for a more… appealing bio.
I'm 29 years old and enjoy meeting people. I like to have fun when I'm
not working at my IT job. Love music, movies and food. Hoping to find
someone on the same page as me that wants to eventually settle down. I'm
very loyal and believe in kindness.
 There. Straight to the point. It should help weed out any players or time-
wasters. The idea of marriage or a serious relationship tends to make certain
people repulse, so hopefully I only match with men who resemble Henry
Cavill or Chris Hemsworth.
I start swiping after I finish setting up my profile, my optimism draining
the further I swipe. Tinder is a cesspool of emotionally unavailable men —
masquerading in gym attire, holding fish, and proclaiming to be the best
thing in the world but don't want anything serious.
I curse Jordan for putting me in this position. Don't men realize how
dangerous it is to be a single woman?
There's a few men that catch my eye and I close out of the app, waiting
for matches.
Later on, I decide to go to the gym, determined to not let any asshole stop
me from living my life. Thankfully, Kaden is nowhere to be seen and I
manage to get a decent run in on the treadmill. And as much as I hate to
admit it, I do incorporate some of Kaden's tips and find it helps.
Afterwards, I do a bit of work on the laptop while Blaise floats around the
house, arguing with his family on the phone. I hear mentions of music and
the possible idea of dancing down the aisle, which Blaise tries to shut down.
Apparently, Alfie wants to choreograph a small dance ensemble in two
weeks.
"I'm not spinning around while Mariah Carey plays! No, I do like Mariah
but I'm not twirling around on the sand, Alfie!"
Snorting, Blaise sends me a heated glare and I do my best not to laugh.
Even though I have no experience with weddings, I have no doubt that
Blaise is going to lose this argument. That's rule number one of any
wedding — never mess with the bride or groom.
"I already told you, I'm bringing a date to the wedding. Tell Mom to stop
stressing about me. I don't need you all having full blown panic attacks over
my relationship status," he pauses. "Well, then you start popping out
grandkids for Mom. No — I'm not getting back together with Nathan. Yes,
I'm fine. Argh."
Shaking my head, I type on my laptop, entering some final data for a
report Blaise urgently needs before a client meeting tomorrow morning.
Just as I'm about to hit send, Blaise walks over, flopping himself onto the
couch as he sighs, covering his eyes.
"We'll talk about this later, Alfie. I have to go."
 "That bad?" I ask when he hangs up the call.
Blaise groans loudly, rubbing his face. "I swear if I didn't love them so
much I'd suffocate them with a pillow — a breathable one, but still."
"Grandchildren?" I tease.
He snaps his head toward me. "Don't start. Mom is apparently
heartbroken over my breakup. God forbid my younger brother get married
before me."
I laugh. "I haven't even told my parents about mine yet. I don't want to
pester them since Uncle Logie recently passed away. Besides, the last thing
I need is my dad going on a hunt for Jordan."
"Nah, send your dad after him," Blaise says. "A few slaps around the
cheek would do him good. Plus, it could be therapeutic for your dad."
"I'm so happy you are concerned about my dad's mental wellbeing," I
mutter sarcastically. "And not the fact he'd probably be arrested."
Blaise scratches his chin. "Okay, new plan — your dad and I wear
balaclavas."
"Oh." My eyebrows shoot up. "Now you're going with him. Great — two
people to bail out of jail."
"I'm serious. Just give me his number and let me do a bit more of a search
on him. I'll find out dirt."
I glance over at him. "We already have dirt on him, so to speak. But he's
not worth it."
"He's really not," Blaise agrees. "Anyway, apparently I'm going to be
dancing down the aisle with my baby brother."
Grinning, I pass my laptop over to him. "I can't wait to see that. Here —
your report is done."
He reaches for the laptop, scanning over the contents. "Fantastic, thank
you. And if I see your camera on at all during this dance, I'll be dishing out
punishment."
"What could you possibly punish me with?" I taunt. "No more tequila?
Going to pin me down and watch ten movies back to back?"
Blaise raises an eyebrow at me, playing with the ring on his index finger.
"I'd find something. Don't underestimate me."
"Do your worst," I shoot back. "At this stage if I survive my current life
crisis, I'll be able to survive anything."
He laughs, handing me the laptop. "Don't be so sure, little one."
The next day I head to the gym bright and early, determined to give the
early workout a try.
Needless to say, I instantly regret it. Without the power of caffeine, I'm
barely able to run, my eyes still groggy from lack of sleep.
As much as I tell myself I'm fine, sleep is still not being kind to me. It
takes forever to finally drift off, and when I do, I'm plagued with
nightmares. But I refuse to cry anymore. I need to just suck it up and move
on. Crying isn't going to change anything and the best thing I can do is live
my life.
The best revenge is happiness.
I'm nearly at the end of my three miles when a figure steps into my line of
sight and I groan. It's too early to deal with this bullshit.
"What did I do to deserve this?" I grumble.
Kaden raises an eyebrow at me. "Good morning to you too."
"What are you even doing here?" I snap, still running. "I thought you
came in the afternoons."
"Keeping track of me?" he teases.
I roll my eyes. "Only so that I can avoid you. I can see that it was
worthless though. Much like you and your best friend."
Okay — I admit I might be a little snappy in the mornings without coffee
and suffering from lack of sleep.
"Ouch," Kaden says tonelessly. "I just wanted to say your running looks
better."
"Thanks," I retort. "Now, off you go."
He doesn't move and when the machine clicks over at three miles, I hit
the stop button, slowing my pace down until I've stopped completely.
I usually prefer to wait until I get my bearings back after running, but I
hastily step off the machine, heading toward the doors. I don't dare head
toward the change rooms, and unfortunately, I sense Kaden following me in
the parking lot.
 "Jesus Christ, Kaden. What the hell do you want?" I snap, spinning
around when I reach my car.
He crosses his arms, pausing in front of me. "You're moody today."
"It's just a correlation to your presence. Answer the question."
Kaden reaches into his pocket, fishing out a piece of paper. He holds it
out for me and I stare down at it, not taking it from him.
"What is that?" I ask.
"My number," he says and when I groan and turn to reach for my car door
handle, he steps in, pushing me against my little yellow submarine.
Spinning around, I glare at him. "Don't touch me! Step back."
There's a fraction of an inch between us, my back pressed against my
driver door but he doesn't move.
"I just thought we could meet up to chat about things," he replies
casually. "Just in case you still had questions."
"I don't have questions. And I don't need your pity."
Kaden nods. "I'm not offering it. But if you want to hang out or chat, I'm
open to the idea."
I shove the paper back into his chest, his hand still holding onto it. "I
don't need your help. I've moved on and so has Jordan. I'm not interested in
your sick games."
"Whatever," he shrugs. "I'm just saying — I lost my friends too."
Raising an eyebrow at him, I can't help but be aware we'll still close to
each other. "Lost friends? Really?"
He nods again. "Jake and I aren't friends anymore. And Jordan moving
away sucks for me too."
I'm not sure what comes over me but I push his chest, sending him
backwards. "Don't you DARE compare us. Jordan is still your friend. So
there's a bit of distance now between you — boohoo. I lost him completely,
Kaden. We are not the same."
Kaden steadies himself, crossing his arms. "And yet you say you've
moved on. I don't call fucking me in the bathroom moving on. All I'm
saying is we can help each other through it."
"You're insane," I shake my head, pulling my car door open. "Go to Hell."
Thankfully he doesn't try to stop me and I quickly turn the car on,
shoving it into reverse as I peel out of the parking lot. The only problem is
the asshole quickly threw the piece of paper into my backseat before I could
get my door closed. I have every intention of burning it to ashes when I get
home.
The nerve of him.
Fuck them both.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty Eight

After work, I check my cell to find I have a bunch of Tinder notifications. I

open the app, scanning my new matches.
I'm surprised to find there's a fair few, along with some messages.
I click on the first match, scanning the bio before unmatching. Looking
for hookups while my baby mama is out of town. Yeah — no thanks.
The second match is a gorgeous looking man called Ian. I read over his
bio, not sensing any red flags. Apparently he likes the gym, watching
movies, and just got out of a relationship as well. Normally I'd say that's a
red flag, but then again, what am I doing?
Shrugging to myself, I open the chat and send a quick message saying hi.
He's tall — around 6'2 with dark hair and blue eyes. It's obvious he works
out a lot, his toned and muscular physique shown in his photos.
It's not long before I get a message back, and I'm relieved to find he can
at least spell. My biggest fear is not being able to find someone who can
hold a conversation and that confuses words like 'right' and 'write'.
Ian: Good Afternoon. Thanks for matching with me. How was your
day?
Me: It was good, thank you. What about your day?
Ian: It was a bit average. Just work, gym, and now cooking dinner.
Me: Oh? What are you making?
 "I swear, if he says chicken and rice, I'm not going any further," I laugh to
myself.
Ian: Homemade pizza and garlic bread
"Oh, thank God," I mutter. I'd be too scared to go on a date with someone
who lives off chicken and brown rice, and be forced to order a salad with no
dressing. I need carbs to survive.
As I'm typing back a reply, there's a knock on my bedroom door. Blaise
pokes his head in, scanning over my figure on the bed.
"Gym? No incidents today?" he teases.
I lift my hair up, turning my neck toward him. "I behaved."
"Good," he laughs. "I just wanted to let you know I need to drive out to
my brother's house tonight for a wedding planning meeting. Will you be
okay?"
I raise an eyebrow at him. "I'm a grown up, Blaise. I'm not going to burn
the house down."
"You might be a grown up but I found you masquerading around as a
fairy queen while drunk on tequila last time I left you alone."
"We're still out of tequila," I shoot back. "So, no concerns there."
Blaise smiles. "There's some leftover Indian in the fridge. Help yourself."
The reminder of Indian food sends a cold wave down my body. It's
unexpected, and I hate myself for something so simple as food having an
effect on me. The last time I ate Indian food was at the beach with Jordan.
I nod. "Thank you. I need to do some laundry tonight too. Do you want
anything washed?"
Blaise laughs. "Like my underwear? No. I'm all good, but if you could
swing by the computer store in the morning to collect something for me that
would be great. I should be home later tonight but if I get caught up, I'll fill
you in on all the gory wedding details tomorrow."
"I can't wait," I grin. "I also expect a rehearsal of the dance."
"And I'm leaving," he groans, closing the door and disappearing.
I giggle, returning to my messages with Ian. He seems nice enough — in
fact, almost too good to be true. I wasn't expecting to find someone normal
on my first dating app conversation. Maybe the universe is giving me a
break.
Ian asks if I would like to meet up for coffee tomorrow and I agree,
figuring it's easier to bite the bullet. I may have lied in my bio about
meeting people. The idea of being social is daunting, but I can't expect to
meet anyone if I don't make an effort.
After a load of laundry and a bowl of curry, I curl into bed, messaging my
matches until I fall into a restless sleep.

When I wake the next morning I realize that Blaise didn't come back home.
I guess the dancing got the better of him. I did get one text message from
him though reminding me about the computer store and that he was going
to meet a client.
He's had a lot of client meetings lately. I can't help but wonder if they are
all business related.
Since I plan to be in town, I arrange my coffee date with Ian — two birds,
one stone.
After collecting Blaise's package, I head to Lilith's Cafe. I've been there a
few times before so it's familiar. Lilith's is situated by the creek,
overlooking the water in cabin-esque style decor.
Dull, orange lights hang from the ceiling along with mahogany wood
walls. The smell of coffee hits me immediately as I enter, and despite trying
to be early, I spot Ian sitting at a table in the back.
Swallowing, I force my legs to move as I walk over, smiling when he
looks up.
"Hi," I say awkwardly.
He smiles back, thankfully looking exactly like his photos. "Hi. Skylar,
right?"
I nod. "It's nice to meet you, Ian. Sorry — I hope you weren't waiting too
long."
Ian shakes his head politely. "I've only been here a minute or so. How's
your morning going?"
I sit down across from him, crossing my legs as I try to stop them
bouncing with nerves. "It's been good. I just had to run a work errand but
I'm glad we were able to meet up."
 "I'll be heading to work after this as well," he smiles. "So, you work in
IT? You must be really smart."
Internally cringing, I consider my words carefully. "I do admin support.
So unfortunately my… boss is the smart one."
It's still weird calling Blaise my boss. To me, he'll always be Blaise.
Ian laughs softly. "Modest. I'm sure you're amazing at your job."
"What do you do?" I ask, ignoring the tint in my cheeks.
"I work with animals."
I raise an eyebrow, smiling. "Do I get any more information?"
"I'm a vet," he says. "Not a real doctor apparently."
"What?" I mutter. "Who said that?"
Ian grins. "My last Tinder date."
"Oh, geez," I murmur. "That's not very nice."
He shrugs. "You win some, you lose some. Now, let me get you a coffee.
What would you like?"
I relay my usual coffee order and he directs me to stay seated as he heads
to the counter. When he returns with two takeaway cups, I squint at his
written order on the side of his cup.
Straight black – one sugar.
I don't know why it hurts, and I have to gently remind myself that just
because Jordan and I shared the same coffee order, doesn't mean I won't
have chemistry with someone else.
It's weird — the little things that start to niggle at you. Self-doubt can be
implanted from something so minor, the scars always a brutal reminder.
"So, what else do you like to do?" Ian asks, sipping his cup.
"I just started going to the gym actually," I proudly say, knowing we have
that in common.
He nods, smiling. "I love that. I'm partial to the gym myself."
I laugh, looking at his torso. "I guessed as much. You look amazing."
"Oh, thank you," he says, shyness in his voice. "It's a nice release from
the everyday stresses. I struggle to see the progress though."
"Really?" I ask surprised. "Your forearm is bigger than my bicep."
He waves me off casually. "I can't let my training take all the credit. I
think handling animals helped too. While I work in a clinic I do
occasionally work in the field with larger animals."
"Horses?"
"Yeah, and cattle."
 I smile. "I think it's wonderful you work with animals. You always hear
so many horror stories about animal cruelty and to me, I think it says a lot
about a person and their interactions with animals."
"So I'm doing well then? Meeting your expectations?" he laughs.
Nodding, I sip my coffee. "So far, so good. We might have to have a
second date just in case you're hiding any red flags."
Ian laughs, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, you twisted my arm.
How's dinner tomorrow night sound?"

"You're back!" I grin at Blaise.

He looks over at me, face deadpanning. "I'm officially disowning my
brother. No one should ever see me twerk in their entire life. But now at
least eighty people will get to see me shaking my thang."
"I'll order a ring light," I tease. "For the camera footage."
Blaise points his finger at me. "I swear to God, Skylar. Don't joke about
it. Alfie even wants me to do the electric slide."
"We're really going back in time," I giggle. "Were they at least happy to
hear you'll have a date?"
He sighs. "Yes. But my dear mother still questioned me. Can you believe
she actually cried about Nathan? I had to comfort her last night — about my
own ex-boyfriend."
"At least they are supportive," I offer. "I can't imagine what it's like for
people to have families that aren't."
Blaise sits down, letting out a sigh of relief. "I'm so happy to be sitting
down. Yeah, my family is great with it. Generally they like anyone I date.
Except for Melissa — Mom hated her."
"Huh?" I ask, taken aback. "Who's Melissa?"
"My girlfriend in senior year. She was a bit of a disaster. I caught her
cheating on me at prom."
I blink at him. "And was this before you knew you were into men?"
Blaise looks at me bewildered. "I've always known. Wait — did you think
I only dated men?"
 Embarrassed, I shrug frantically. "I've only known you while you dated
Nathan. I just assumed. Oh, my God. I'm an asshole."
He laughs — wildly, while I sit here frazzled and ashamed.
"Oh, you poor sweet thing. I can understand why you thought that. I can't
believe you didn't know though."
"It's not something you just ask someone outright about," I argue. "It's not
my business. I just knew you and Nathan were a thing."
Blaise settles, relaxing in his chair. "I don't like putting labels on things
but I guess you could say I'm pansexual. But to me, people are people. I just
like whoever I'm attracted to. I need to have an emotional and intellectual
connection with someone. And whoever that person is, gender is not a
factor for me."
"That's actually really beautiful," I murmur. "So you just love who you
love."
"Exactly," he nods. "If there's a connection, that's all that's important to
me."
Tucking my legs under my body, I get comfortable on the couch. "Well,
you'll be pleased to hear I had a date today. Jordan and Kaden are a thing of
the past."
"Oh," he asks, eyes lighting up. "Who with?"
"I downloaded Tinder," I admit sheepishly. "I had coffee with a guy this
morning. He's really nice. We're going to have dinner tomorrow."
Blaise raises an eyebrow. "Do you want to go suss out his socials?"
I laugh for a second before my face turns serious. "Yes. Let's go."

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Twenty Nine

No dirt on Ian — though he has the decency to hide his profile. There were
a few pictures and old posts, but nothing concerning.
And certainly no pictures with my ex-boyfriend.
He's already doing well, so props to him.
I offer to drive myself to the restaurant, particularly since Blaise was
insisting on meeting him. I can only imagine the overbearing best friend
interrogation that would ensue. If the male species thought they were safe
since my dad wasn't in this town, they were wrong. Never judge the power
of a best friend.
We decide on a small Korean restaurant known for Korean BBQ. Ian
meets me out the front, donned in casual jeans and a black shirt.
"Hi," I greet warmly, putting my car keys into my purse. "You beat me
again."
Ian grins. "In fairness, my clinic is only a few blocks away. I had a
change of clothes stashed there."
"That's cheating," I laugh. "I'll be sure to allow an extra thirty minutes
next time."
"Oh, someone's confident," he teases. "What makes you think dinner will
go well?"
I pretend to think. "Well, I do believe you are a doctor. And I'm an
excellent conversationalist."
 "True," he laughs. "Just as long as you don't spill wine all over me and
yell at the waiter."
He looks at my puzzled face, shrugging. "Another Tinder disaster story."
"Seriously?" I gasp. "Right, you need to fill me in about this. You're not
giving me much confidence for the dating apps."
Ian opens the door for me, waiting for me to enter the restaurant. "I'm
hoping to delete the apps soon."
I step into the restaurant, nodding. "Me too."
The hostess looks up from the front stand, smiling at us warmly. "Good
Evening. Do you have a reservation?"
Before I can speak, Ian steps over. "Hi, ma'am. We do. It should be under
Watkins."
I'm impressed by his politeness to service industry staff — another
measurement I like to keep track of.
"Right this way," she beckons, leading us to a table.
As we sit down, I look at the small cook top in the center of the table, my
eyes shifting to the buffet-style serving stations around the room.
"Have you ever tried Korean BBQ before?" Ian asks, putting his keys and
cell on the table.
I shake my head. "No. I'm intrigued though."
He lifts a lid next to the cooking station, broth boiling underneath. "You
cook your meat either in here or on the cooktop. There's different kinds. It's
going to change your life."
Laughing, my stomach rumbles as the smell of spice hits my senses. "I'm
excited to try. Do we just head over to the stations?"
Ian nods, standing up and offering me his hand. I take it, smiling as he
leads me over to the various meats, side dishes and condiments.
We each grab some dishes, collecting what we need, before heading back
to the table. I watch as Ian goes first, putting strips of uncooked beef and
pork into the broth. I follow suit, watching as it cooks beneath the surface.
"And now we wait," Ian says, grabbing some kimchi and shoveling it into
his mouth.
"How long does it take?" I ask.
"Not long," he answers, clicking together his chopsticks.
By the time we exit the restaurant, I'm thoroughly in love — with Korean
food, that is.
 "That was amazing," I groan, rubbing my stomach. "I'm definitely
coming back here."
Ian lingers on the sidewalk, watching me with a smile. "It's pretty great.
What are your plans now?"
"I don't have any. What about you?"
He fidgets with his keys, and it takes me about five seconds to realize he's
wanting to ask the question.
Shit. Do I go back to his house? Sex on a first date is no stranger to me
now, but I'm still traumatized from last time. I don't get the same vibes from
Ian, but then again, I'm not sure I feel the same connection either. Maybe
there's no harm in trying. I might be pleasantly surprised.
Life is about risk taking.
"I could always come back to your house to watch a movie or
something?" I suggest.
He looks relieved at being able to dodge the question. "A movie sounds
good. Do you want to follow in your car?"
I nod. "Is it far from here?"
"Only a few minutes. I don't live far from the clinic either. Everything is
central for me," he laughs.
We hop into our respective cars and while I follow him, I have a mini
panic attack, questioning my decision.
It's fine I tell myself. We can always just watch a movie. There's no
expectation or mention of sex. It's just the end of a date with two adults
getting to know each other.
I pull up behind Ian's car as he stops in front of a small house, getting my
shit together before stepping out of the car. He offers me his hand again,
which I take, and follow him to the front door.
His keys jingle and when he pushes the door open, I peer into the
darkness, waiting for secret monsters to emerge.
The lights flicker on and I find the shadows are nothing more than just
that, and I take a deep breath, following him inside.
It's a tidy house for a bachelor, the cozy little dwelling reminding me of a
flat. The open space living room and adjoining kitchen welcomes us as we
step inside, and to the right, I spot his bedroom and bathroom. That's it —
small, everything in sight.
"Feel free to put your bag down," he says, gesturing to a stand in the
corner.
 "Thank you," I mutter, hanging my bag up before standing awkwardly,
waiting for instructions.
Ian holds his hand out toward the fridge. "Drink?"
"Uh, water please," I murmur, deciding it's best to avoid alcohol. He
fetches a bottle from the fridge, handing it to me.
We stand facing each other, the water bottle forgotten as he looks down at
me.
"So, movie… or bedroom?" he asks quietly.
There's no pressuring in his tone. I guess he's just trying to get a read on
me and the best way to do that is plain old communication. I ponder the
question, asking myself what do I want.
Let's be honest — we're adults. We were never intending to watch a
movie. So, I pull my big girl boots up and tilt my head toward the bedroom.
Ian smiles, leading the way. I can feel my heart racing in my chest but
surprisingly, I feel okay about it.
He closes the door behind us quietly, turning to face me.
"I suppose I should kiss you," he laughs. "If that's okay."
I nod. "It's okay with me."
Leaning down, he grabs the water bottle from my hand, placing it on a
nightstand. When I have nothing left to hold onto, he leans down, kissing
my lips softly.
I close my eyes, relishing in his soft touch, our lips moving at a slow
pace. When our pace increases, his hands rest on my sides as he gets a little
more bold.
Reaching out, I run my hands up his covered chest, my fingers feeling his
hard muscles underneath. Immediately, I'm like putty in his hands — a
sucker for the toned, animal-loving man.
Ian wraps his arms around me, lifting me up as he walks over to the bed,
sitting me on the edge. Using his body, he pushes me backwards, my back
hitting the mattress as our mouths meet again.
I grab his shirt, my fingers feeling his skin underneath. He stops briefly to
remove the garment, revealing his physique to my blessed eyesight.
Wow. I have no idea why this man has doubts about himself. He is
stunning.
I sit up as he reaches behind me to unzip my purple, flowy summer dress,
the material sliding down my arms and catching on my elbow. Hands push
me back, and I lift my hips as he pulls the dress from my body, letting it hit
the floor.
"You're absolutely gorgeous," he breathes, kissing my neck.
"You're breathtaking," I reply, moaning softly as he moves down my neck
to my chest. He kisses my breasts through my bra a few times before
reaching behind me again to unclasp it. I arch my back to give him more
room, freeing myself for him to see.
Ian cups my right breast, tenderly stroking my nipple with his thumb as
his lips close over my other nipple. He sucks gently, pulling the pink peak
into his mouth.
Kisses make their way down my stomach, hovering over my hip bone
until he grabs the sides of my panties, sliding them down my legs. Lifting
my hips, I kick them off, shuffling back up the bed to make room for him.
He stands up, taking his belt off, before unzipping his jeans and pushing
them down. I'm surprised to find he's commando, his cock already hard and
ready.
And Jesus fucking help me. He has the biggest dick I've ever seen in my
life.
I'm fairly certain a weapon of that size should come with a warning — or
at least a voucher for free yoga lessons in preparation.
I have a small internal panic attack, until he holds himself over me,
kissing me. I get distracted thankfully, until his hand pushes my thighs apart
so he can cup my pussy.
His fingers dance around my skin, finally sliding inside me. My body
tenses up around him as I moan, and in reply, he growls softly.
"Fuck."
Pulling his fingers out, he puts his hand on my thigh, kissing my hip bone
again.
"Don't move," he muses, reaching under the bed to retrieve a box of
condoms.
Is he telling me not to run before he rearranges my organs? Because I
have to admit, I'm a little concerned.
Ian pulls a condom on, rolling it down his shaft before climbing over me
again. He holds himself up, his huge biceps surrounding my head as he
reaches down, checking I'm ready for him.
As he lines his cock up, I suck in a breath, willing myself to relax for the
LOVE OF FUCKING GOD.
 Slowly, he enters, my body adjusting to him. I reach up, grabbing his
biceps for support as he slowly fills me until he can't go any deeper.
"Are you okay?" he asks, stilling.
Well at least he has the decency to do a welfare check.
I nod, realizing that I'm overthinking it. He's big — but I'm not in pain.
And as he starts to move slowly, pleasure builds, my body tightening
around him as he rolls his hips into mine.
Ian kisses me, tongue pushing into my mouth as he fucks me slowly. I
remain clinging to his biceps, nails firmly pressed into his skin, as our
bodies meet.
I start to lift my hips, meeting him with each thrust. Pulling back from the
kiss, Ian smiles down at me.
"Touch yourself for me."
With a shaky hand, I let go of my muscular life raft, hand sliding between
our bodies until I find our mutual meeting place. My fingers brush against
my clit, slowly rubbing it in circles, before dipping lower so I can feel his
shaft as he slides into me.
A small growl gets caught in his throat, lips slamming into mine as he
pushes in a little deeper.
Arms suddenly wrap around my back, and the ceiling is gone as I'm
rolled over, now perched on top of him. I place my hands on his chest to
steady myself while my head catches up, and I roll my hips, lifting my ass
up as I slide up and down his length.
It's an overwhelming feeling — his cock buried deep at this angle, but I
manage, pushing myself up as I use his chest as a guidance board.
Ian reaches down, thumb rubbing my clit for me while I focus on not
toppling off the Eiffel Tower. It's a hard mission though, as suddenly, he
thrusts his hips up, bouncing me in place.
I fall forward, resting my hands on either side of his head as he spears
into me, hitting my g-spot. My arms shake as moans billow from my lips,
and when they give out, our chests smash together.
He holds me snug against him, still thrusting, while our hips rub. The
friction grinds against my clit, and I'm surprised to feel my orgasm
approaching.
"Don't stop," I tell him, doing my best to communicate between breathy
moans.
 Keeping the same pace, a bundle of ecstasy suddenly rolls through me,
my climax exploding as I scream out.
Suddenly, I'm on my back, the ceiling above me again as Ian holds one of
my legs up, bending it toward my chest as he slams into me.
I'm still reeling from my orgasm, eyes not able to focus, when he groans
deeply, pushing inside of me once more, before he stills, falling over the
edge.
"Oh, my God," I mutter, blinking as I stare at the roof.
Ian laughs softly, head bent down as he leisurely eases himself out of me.
"That was amazing."
He lands next to me on the mattress with a thud, the two of us breathing
heavily.
"Yeah…" I agree. When I find a little burst of energy, I roll on my side to
look at him. He does the same, facing me.
"So, good first proper date?" he grins.
I can't help but smile back, his cheeky attitude infectious.
"Hopefully I set the bar a little higher than your last dates," I retort.
He nods. "You definitely did. As long as you still agree that I'm a doctor."

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirty

Not wanting to test fate, I told Ian that I was heading home but would
message him tomorrow.
I've learned my lesson with first dates — so, I'm trying a new strategy.
Men should have to earn sleepovers and cuddles.
Cuddles lead to feels. And feels lead to trouble.
It's not overly late when I get back home, close to midnight. But still, I'm
surprised to find Blaise awake, watching a movie.
"What time do you call this?" he playfully scolds as I try to sneak through
the door.
The living room light is off, the only source of brightness from the
television as he lays, sprawled out on the couch.
"I could ask you the same thing," I shoot back. "Shouldn't you be in bed,
old man. You have to rest for your dance moves."
Blaise throws a cushion at me, the soft padding hitting my knees. I kick it
poorly, it bounces off my leg and onto the floor.
"I couldn't sleep," he says, and I notice he's in his pajamas.
"Not tired?" I ask, dumping my keys and bag down and heading to sit in
his usual single armchair.
He shakes his head. "Too many thoughts today."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
 Blaise runs his hand through his hair, resting his hand under the back of
his head. "Just work stuff. Nothing to stress about. How was your date?"
I frown, not convinced, but decide not to press him further. "It was good,"
I tell him. "He's really nice."
"I'm surprised you're home," he says.
"I didn't want to stay at his house," I respond, muffling a yawn. "I'm
trying to take things slower this time."
He nods, understanding. "So… you went to his house," he teases,
implying exactly what happened.
Poor Blaise might not be tired, but I'm wrecked. I nod, no energy to think
of a witty comeback. "Yeah. We had sex after dinner. I just wanted to be in
my own bed tonight."
"How was it?" he asks, and I shrug.
"It was good. No — the sex itself was amazing. But…" I trail off, trying
to collect my thoughts.
"But?"
I sigh. "Don't get me wrong. I really like him as a person. He's well-
mannered, a gentleman, has his head on straight. But I just don't feel that
wow connection I had with Jordan. Part of me is terrified that I'll never find
that again."
Blaise sits up, crossing his legs under his body. "You've only had one
proper date since the breakup. Don't write it off yet. Of course you'll find
that connection."
"Yeah, I guess so," I mutter. "I just wish it was more simple."
"Love never is," he murmurs. "It's probably the hardest concept anyone
will go through. There's no rules, no book to follow. We can't control things
and it's a dumpster fire."
I laugh. "It really is. Like, I know how this is going to sound, but even
with Kaden, there was a connection. I want to murder him the majority of
the time, but there was still some strong connection there."
"That's called 'rage'," Blaise says. "Anger is a strong emotion."
"Even so, all these powerful connections that make me realize how little I
felt for Jake. I don't want to waste someone's time if I don't feel that
magical, all-consuming feeling. Am I asking for too much?" I ask wearily.
"Maybe my expectations are too high."
Blaise shakes his head. "It's not asking too much. Love is about being
crazy for someone. If you don't feel it, you don't feel it."
 I sigh. "I guess so. Anyway, I'm going to go take a shower and head to
bed. Are you going to be okay?"
He stands up with me, grabbing the remote for the television. "Yeah, I'm
going to head back to bed now too. I'm feeling more tired now. And
tomorrow I'll fill you in about some work stuff."
"Alright," I mutter, walking over and giving him a hug. "Goodnight."
Blaise hugs me back, leaning his head on my shoulder for a brief second.
"Sweet dreams, Sky."

"We have four new clients so I'll need you to take a look at the calendar and
see what our turnaround time is. Rebel's Jerky needs their website by the
end of next week, and Watergoose Logistics are hoping for an integrated
software program within three days."
I blink at Blaise. "Your calendar is already pretty full this week."
"I know," he sighs. "Let's see if we can shift anything around. Double
check the estimated completion dates for me and see if there's any wiggle
room. Otherwise, I might just need to do some extra work."
"You're going to burn yourself out," I warn, shaking my head.
Blaise smiles. "I'll be alright. I'm taking a few days off for the wedding.
So, it's better I can get all this out before then, so that it's not waiting for me
when we get back."
"Alright…" I agree wearily. "Let me see what I can do."
I manage to make a bit of time in the calendar, squeezing everything in.
Essentially, between now and the wedding, Blaise and I will be working
non-stop during the day, but we should be able to accomplish the tasks.
By the time I've got his schedule all sorted, signed contracts filed, and
cost agreements prepared, he's back to happy, smiling Blaise. His cell is
playing music as we work, and we've ordered pizza for lunch, opting for
something fast and easy that we can eat while we press on.
At the end of the day, I'm relieved to finally close the laptop and let my
poor fingers take a rest. Blaise does the same, pulling himself away so that
we can take a break.
 I walk into the kitchen, fetching two bottles of beers out of the fridge. I
hand him one, tapping his bottle before taking a swig.
"Here's to us on a productive day," I say.
Blaise laughs, taking a huge sip. "And to doing it all again tomorrow."
I still haven't messaged Ian yet, so I make a mental note to do so after I've
had a chance to unwind. At this stage, I'm not confident I'm able to
coherently put words together into a sentence.
I crawl onto the couch, spreading my legs out as I sip my beer slowly.
Sleep threatens to take me right here and now, but I resist, knowing I'll
wake too early if I do.
"Move over," Blaise says, tapping my leg.
Lifting my legs, he sits at the other end of the couch, motioning for me to
lay my legs back down in his lap. I rest them over his thighs, closing my
eyes for a brief second.
"I'm exhausted," I complain.
Blaise laughs softly. "And you're worried about me being burned out."
I smile, eyes still closed. "I always worry about you."
"Likewise."
"You shouldn't," I grumble. "It's too much energy."
I feel his hand rest on my shin, rubbing it gently. "Stop doing silly things
and it will be fine."
"Ah," I start. "So, stop falling in love with douchebags."
"That too."
Opening my eyes, I peer at him, finding he's looking at me too. "What
else have I done wrong?"
"The gym," he groans. "It's not the cardio you are meant to do. But also,
flood waters… tequila adventures."
"Okay," I hold my hand up. "I learned my lesson on all of those things.
Time to move on, buddy."
He laughs heartily. "We'll see. My family is going to love you."
"I'm pretty loveable," I mutter. "I promise to stay away from hard liquor.
The last thing I need is some crazy bride going John Cena on me."
Blaise smiles. "Lauren is really lovely. She's a saint for putting up with
Alfie."
"How did they meet?" I ask, intrigued. I want to hear about love stories
— so that I can be reminded that a happy ending is possible.
 He thinks for a second, remembering back. "They met at the mall. Alfie
went to buy Mom a present for her birthday. Lauren was there shopping for
her niece. He wasn't paying attention to where he was going and collided
with her. I'm told it was a disaster. Alfie had also picked up a cake and he
dropped it, all over the ground. It splattered all over Lauren's pants and then
he slipped over in the icing."
"You're kidding," I gasp.
"Nope," he laughs. "I told him the expression falling head over heels is
meant to be a metaphor, not a physical action. Luckily, she was so calm
about it. He was going to abandon the cake but Lauren marched him
straight to the nearest bakery and helped him pick out another one. And the
rest is history."
I let out a small giggle. "That's one of the best love stories I've ever heard.
I have no doubt you give him shit about it all the time."
Blaise nods. "Absolutely. Whenever there is a cake nearby, I always tell
him to stay away. He's no longer trusted with any baked goods."
"But your mom still got a cake in the end," I beam. "And a daughter-in-
law."
"Oh, yes," he murmurs. "She said it was the best birthday present ever."
His nose wrinkles as he thinks about his family. My knee jerks as he runs
a hand over it, so I cross my feet at my ankles. "Why is your mom so pushy
about relationships?" I ask curiously.
Blaise looks at me, like it's an obvious answer. "My Dad," he says simply.
"She's been this way ever since he died. I think she just misses him so
much. They loved each other a lot. She wants that for us too."
"But you guys are still young," I point out. "There's no rush these days. I
know our parents were a lot younger when they got married and had kids,
but it's not like we're ancient."
"I know. But she just wants the best for us. To her, the best years of her
life were with my Dad. So she wants that for us too."
I nod. "That's actually really sweet. My parents are kind of the opposite.
They want me to be happy, but typical Dad with his daughter, no one is
good enough."
"Dads are meant to be protective," Blaise says. "And someone will be one
day. Parents just want to stop us from making stupid decisions."
Groaning, I lean my head back. "Then let's not tell mine about my life. I
don't think they would be able to cope."
 Blaise hums, resting his hand on my ankle. "What about your uncle?
What would he have said?"
I smile, thinking about Uncle Logie. "He would have been right there
with Dad, hunting all of them down. But Uncle Logie wasn't interested in
love. He grew up with very little, so for him, his life mission was
accomplishing as much as possible. He wanted to stick with the family he
had, be loyal, and work hard. We might be a small family, but we're close,
just like they wanted."
"Do you miss not having siblings?"
Shrugging, I tilt my head to the side. "I never felt like I was missing out.
Sure, I've thought about what it would be like to have a sister, but my
parents and Uncle made sure I was loved. They spoiled me in the ways they
knew how."
"Parenting," Blaise points out. "There's no textbook for it."
"Or love," I answer. "It's all a game until you figure out the rules."

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirty One

Before I know it, the weekend is here. It's officially one week until the
wedding and with only four more days of work to go, Blaise and I have
spent all our free time getting ahead so we can take some time off.
I messaged Ian during the week and explained my feelings, and
thankfully, he took it well. He asked to be friends — and despite what
happened last time someone offered to be friends, I genuinely felt like I
could be with him. Hell, maybe even occasionally we could still go out for
dinner and do stuff. But after all his disastrous dates, the last thing I wanted
to do was lead him on. He's an amazing guy.
He's just not the one for me.
Even though it's the weekend and I should be thankful, I can't help but
hate it just a little. Unfortunately, for me, weekends are plagued with
thoughts. Once I stop being busy and productive, I find myself drifting back
to days at the beach, nights at Jordan's house, and it leads to me wondering
what he's doing.
Is he with Jasmine? Has he worked yet?
I've managed to resist the temptation to check his socials or reach out to
him. I know it won't help me. Even though he said we could be friends, it
was a polite way of avoiding confrontation.
We can't be friends.
 So, for the sake of my mental health, I pretend he doesn't exist. But he
does, little bits of him still ingrained in my soul.
I can't help but dwell on certain things and I know with time it will get
easier, but I just wish I knew more. I've never been one to accept things at
face value or trust my rational instinct. Even though I know what we had
was real, I still replay his last words to me. His harsh confessions of
forgetting about me and that his feelings were an overreaction in the
moment.
Who even says that?
Blaise has to go see his family for more wedding stuff — final fittings,
rehearsals, and the bachelor party — so I'm left to my own devices. I wash
all the clothes in the house, including Blaise's, before scrubbing the
bathroom, the floors, and even rearranging my room. But I manage to
complete it all and when I have nothing else left to do, I'm back to my
thoughts.
Grumbling, I go outside to my car, waving to a neighbor as I lean into the
backseat, checking for the thing I promised I would burn.
Kaden's number is still scrawled on a piece of paper, wedged under my
seat. I had temporarily forgotten about it until my brain reminded me.
I sit on my bed, adding his number into a text message chat. I tell myself
I'm doing this for me, and once I have the answer haunting me, I'm done.
Completely done.
I promise.
Me: It's Skylar. I need to talk to you.
As soon as I hit send, I feel guilty. I wish I knew how people
compartmentalized things or processed them to move on. Why do I need to
know the answers to everything? I should be happy to just accept it like
Blaise, and believe my gut when it says I know the truth.
But I can't. I need answers. I need closure.
I just need a small hint of validation so I know I'm not insane.
I'm terrified that if I don't get it, this will haunt me in my next relationship
— sabotaging it until I die alone with thirty cats and a dependency on
tequila.
My cell dings and I glance down, reading the reply.
Kaden: Okay. Did you want to meet up?
Me: No. By text is fine.
 See — boundaries. I've thought this through. I'll stick to my guns because
I'm in control.
Kaden: Meet me by the creek. Texting is too hard.
"For fuck sake," I hiss, hastily typing back a reply.
Me: I don't want to see you. I just want to ask a few questions.
Kaden: Take it or leave it. I'll be down by the Creek near the Wallowby
entrance in an hour. I'll wait for 15 minutes.
Grinding my teeth, I slam my cell down onto the mattress, annoyed.
So much for control. He knows he is dangling a carrot in front of me.
I know it's a bad idea, particularly since I could easily toss him into the
creek and drown him in St. Devil's Creek. But reluctantly, I get dressed,
heading to the car.
I consider texting Blaise for backup. But I know he'll just tell me not to
do it. At least one of us is rational.
It's a sunny day, a warm breeze today despite the weather starting to get
cooler lately. I know which entrance he's talking about. There's a tiny little
parking lot and picnic setup by the creek, and I'm thankful that being the
weekend, there will be other people around to deter me from committing
homicide.
When I arrive, there's a few people at the picnic tables enjoying a late
afternoon lunch. No sign of Kaden yet, so I climb out of my car, walking
down a set of steps to the river bank.
Kicking off my shoes, I pick them up and walk on the dirty sand,
carefully walking over rocks until I find a large enough one to sit on. I take
a seat, watching the creek as birds chirp in the trees nearby.
I'm lost in my thoughts when I suddenly sense a presence behind me.
Turning my head, I spot Kaden, dressed in dark blue shorts and a white
shirt. He sits himself down on a rock next to me, facing the creek.
"I'm surprised you came," he says.
"So am I," I grumble. "I would have preferred to just speak over text
messages."
Kaden scoffs with a laugh. "I don't think these types of conversations are
meant for messaging."
Looking away from him, I stare at the creek, willing myself to relax. I can
feel my blood boiling but this is my only opportunity to get what I need so I
can move forward finally.
"What do you want to know?" he asks when I don't speak.
 Where do I even start?
In my mind I only had one question, but the more I thought about it, the
more answers I wanted to know.
Finally, I take a breath, starting with the most pressing one. "Did you tell
Jordan about what happened at the gym?" I ask.
Kaden looks at me surprised. "No. Why would I?"
Shaking my head, I huff. "Because you are best friends. I figured it would
be a nice little laugh for you both."
"Stop villainizing us," he snaps. "I told you I was sorry. What else do I
need to do to prove that?"
I snap my head to look at him. "There's nothing you can do, Kaden."
He stares back at me. "I'm sorry, Skylar," he says again. "But us at the
gym had nothing to do with Jordan."
"I don't believe you," I say.
"It's true."
"Then what was it?" I ask sarcastically. "Fill me in."
Kaden shakes his head, looking back at the creek. "I just wanted you. I
meant what I said. I like you."
"Then you're a lousy friend," I point out. "Because I'm your best friend's
ex."
His eyebrows crease angrily. "That's not fair. You weren't together. I've
never tried anything when it wasn't fair game. The hot tub was different —
that was consensual. I didn't try to make a move on you while you were
together."
"So you wait until I'm broken and vulnerable. Got it."
"I never took advantage of you," he states. "I like you. And despite
everything, I felt bad for you."
Clenching my jaw, I glare at him. "I don't need your pity."
"The whole Jake thing aside," he says, ignoring me. "You and Jordan
both suffered. I feel bad for you both."
"Jordan doesn't deserve your pity either," I grumble. "He's doing just fine
at the moment."
Kaden nods. "Maybe. But I don't believe it."
And there it is… the little piece of validation I was craving. It makes me
feel terrible — to want that. But I just need a little sense of victory, just a
shred of dignity to cling to.
"Is he still with Jasmine?" I ask, knowing I'll hate the answer either way.
 "I think so," he says softly. "He moved a few days ago. We haven't really
spoken."
I scoff. "I tried to talk to him," I admit.
Kaden looks at me surprised. "You did?"
"Yeah," I snap. "And I found out he had blocked me. When he did call
back, he was nothing but cold and rude toward me."
He looks guilty — the nerve of him.
"You know it's an act, right?" he replies. "He's just trying to create
distance."
"And why would he need to do that when apparently I mean so little to
him?" I ask, resisting the urge to cry.
Kaden sighs. "Because you don't block someone unless you want to push
them out of your mind… because they mean something."
I shake my head. "Sure didn't seem that way."
"I spoke to him briefly to see if he was settled in," Kaden admits. "He
didn't say directly that he spoke to you. But he did say something along the
lines of needing space from things."
"And you think that means me?"
He nods. "He might not have spoken about his feelings, but I know
Jordan. He's trying to move on and he's hurting too. He didn't want to have
to let you go but he knew it was for the best. But unfortunately, whenever
you pop up in conversation or he gets reminded of you, it makes him start
to fall back in love with you again."
"I don't think so," I mutter sadly, losing the last bit of anger I had left.
"He said he never meant any of it and that he got carried away."
"Bullshit," Kaden says. "He told me to stop bringing you up because it
messes with his head."
I look at him, puzzled. "You spoke about me."
"Just that you were doing okay and I had seen you at the gym. I thought it
would bring him some peace to know you were doing alright."
"Clearly it didn't work," I point out. "Because he didn't want to hear about
it."
Kaden smiles, throwing me off. "Men don't think the same as women. It
might seem that way, but I'm telling you, we're not complicated. Don't
overthink it. We only shut down when we need to. If something doesn't faze
us, then it doesn't matter. But I also truly believe that hearing that, he was
happy. That's all he wants — your happiness."
 "Is that why he said Jasmine reminded him of me?"
He nods. "Exactly. Don't believe words of anger and resentment. Focus
on what you know. Did you think it was real?"
"Of course I did," I mutter. "Otherwise I wouldn't be falling to pieces."
I hate that I've confessed that to him. But he's been nice enough to give
me what I needed. I still don't believe it entirely, but my heart hurts a little
less if that makes sense. Knowing he's struggling too, but that he did care,
makes me feel like I do actually mean something.
"You're not broken," he murmurs. "You're just going through a rough
time. And I promise you, I am sorry about it all. I wish I could undo it.
That's why I've been such a pain in the ass to you. I just wanted to show you
that you weren't nothing to us."
A single tear slips out against my control and I hastily wipe it away. I had
promised myself no more tears. But I'm not sure if I'm crying over Jordan…
or Kaden.
"I thought it was just a game," I admit. "You made me so angry."
"I know," he says softly. "But if you want me to leave you alone, I will. I
should have before when you asked, but I was filled with guilt. Now that
we've got all this out in the open, I feel better. So, I'll leave you alone."
He goes to stand, but I turn to look at him quickly. "Wait."
"Hm?" he asks, looking at me curiously.
I purse my lips, my mind racing. "You don't have to go yet. Let's just sit
and relax."
Kaden looks at me, slightly bewildered but nods, sitting back down.
"Okay."
Silence passes between us, but it's not awkward. It's like the hole in my
heart has closed a little. Not fully — just the gap has gotten smaller, more
manageable.
We watch the sunset quietly, talking occasionally about other things like
the gym and the weather. When we're nearly covered in darkness, Kaden
stands up, holding out his hand.
"Come on, let's go get a drink or something. I sure need one."

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirty Two

My back slams against the door as Kaden kisses me, the two of us tangled
in each other's arms.
After the creek, we went to Moloch's Bar — a small tavern on the outside
of town — for a quick drink.
One drink turned into four, then another, before we were drunk, laughing
about things I can't recall.
Jordan had been mentioned a few times, but nothing deep. We just
reminisced, and as I got more numb, I laughed, particularly about the night
in the hot tub.
Before I realized it, we had called for an Uber, and since I'm trying to
save money, I agreed to let Kaden come back to my place until we were
sober enough.
Truthfully, I didn't want to be alone either.
Blaise had texted me that he would be staying the night at his brother's
for the bachelor party. I didn't trust myself to be home alone intoxicated,
wondering if I'd find myself on the floor again or end up in a crying heap
once my thoughts had a chance to catch up to me.
It will just be a friendly hangout, we told ourselves. And I had every good
intention of sticking to that, but after our conversation by the creek, I
suddenly saw Kaden in a new light.
 He wasn't completely forgiven — but I realized holding onto all that
anger was just hurting me. So, in the interest of moving forward with my
life like I had said I would do, I decided to give him a chance.
It was that dangerous promise again.
Friends.
Except when he helped me out of the Uber, grabbing my hand so I
wouldn't fall over, I remembered what it felt like to be touched. I craved
some affection, a mild bit of attention — just someone to make me feel
good.
The two of us fall onto the couch as we enter the living room, my body
on top of Kaden's, as we kiss heatedly. His hands snake up and down my
back, pulling my shirt up as his fingers touch my skin.
I cup his face, holding him still so I can deepen the kiss, my tongue
finding his as his hand slips up to my bra.
"Sit up for a moment," he groans. I do, and he reaches up, lifting my shirt
over my head and dropping it onto the ground next to us.
Kaden grabs my breasts, tenderly squeezing them before pulling the cups
of my bra down to free my nipples. Sitting up, he wraps one arm around my
back to stop me from falling, the other grabbing my breast as his mouth
closes around my nipple.
Pleasure rolls through me and I thread my fingers through his hair,
loosening his perfectly tied man bun.
"Where's your bedroom?" he asks, alternating between my breasts as he
nips and sucks.
"That way," I breathe out, nodding towards the hallway.
He stands up, holding me against him as he does. I let out a little squeal,
wrapping my legs around his waist so I don't fall.
Walking out of the living room, he heads down the hallway and I guide
him to the door on our right — my bedroom.
There's only a fraction of light from the outside lamp posts but he finds
my bed, dropping me down onto my back. Immediately, he's back on top of
me, kissing my neck, chest, and anywhere he can reach.
He trails kisses down my stomach, unbuttoning my jeans before hooking
his fingers in the sides and pulling them down my legs. They hit the ground
with a thud, neither of us noticing as he turns his attention to my panties.
Slowly, he slides them down my legs too, shoving my knees back open with
his elbow.
 Before I can do anything, his face is buried in my pussy, tongue lapping
at my clit like a starved man.
"Fuck," I hiss, thighs squeezing his head.
Kaden reaches down, lifting my legs to swing them over his shoulders. I
cross my ankles on his back, relishing in the feeling of pleasure as he guides
his finger into my pussy without ripping his mouth away.
"You still taste fucking incredible," he groans, pumping his digits in and
out.
I can't stop the little moan that escapes my lips, and suddenly, I'm
overcome by a powerful orgasm, legs shaking as I dig my heels into his
upper back.
When I'm finished shaking, he hastily kisses up my body, slamming his
lips into mine. Pushing his tongue into my mouth, I groan as I taste myself,
and I begin frantically reaching around blindly to grab at his clothes.
He sits back, stopping his movements so I can undress him. I take off his
shirt, followed by his shorts and boxer briefs, before I confidently push him
onto his back.
Kaden lets out a groan as his back hits the mattress but I waste no time
covering his toned stomach with hot kisses. I run my nails down his chest as
I lower myself further, until I'm face to face with his hard cock.
Gripping it in my hand, I give a few test pumps, pleased when little
sounds of his pleasure fill the room. Leaning down, I engulf the tip in my
mouth, running my tongue over the head. A hint of salt hits my tongue and I
lower my mouth down his shaft, sucking him.
Hands find my hair, holding my hair as he guides me up and down,
whispering to me.
"Yes, Sky. Just like that. Fuck…"
My stomach clenches proudly, knowing I'm making him feel that way. I
attempt to take as much of him as I can before I struggle, and when I let out
a little choke, he groans happily, letting go of my head.
I come up for air but no sooner as I breathe in, he's on me again,
consuming me with his mouth, mixing ourselves together.
"Get on your hands and knees," he says huskily, running his hand down
my side.
I fumble on the mattress, arms briefly giving out as I find my position. I
feel him move in behind me, hands gliding over my ass appreciatively as he
spreads me from behind.
 "Fuck, you're perfect," he groans, dipping a finger into my pussy. "I can't
wait to be inside you."
"What are you waiting for?" I blurt out, lips parted as I fight back moans.
He hums to himself, shuffling on his knees until I feel the head of his
cock pressed against my entrance. In one quick swoop, he impales me,
filling me with his cock.
My hands have to catch myself as the motion pushes me forward, but I
clench the blanket in my fists, steadying myself as he starts thrusting into
me.
Our moans echo around the room, my hips rocking back to meet his
thrusts as he slams into me. Kaden reaches around my body, fingers
brushing against my clit as he massages me in rhythm to his movements.
"Yes," I groan. "Don't stop."
"I'm not going to," he answers. "Not until you come all over my cock."
Little whimpers make their way from my throat and I bury my head into
my pillow, body trembling. He doesn't ease up, increasing speed, until he
feels me start to tighten around him.
"That's it, baby girl. Fucking come for me."
My orgasm rips through me, blowing me into tiny fragments as I explode.
He hisses happily, letting go of my clit to grab my waist as he starts
spearing into me harder.
He goes deeper — not relenting until finally, he lets out a loud sound
signaling his release and he collapses onto my back, pushing his cock into
me as far as possible.
My arms try to support us both, but they buckle, sending me crashing into
the mattress with Kaden on my back, still in me.
I'm too exhausted and sated to move though, happy and content.
Finally, as he starts to soften, he pulls out, rolling off my back. The
pressure eases up but I don't move, just turning my head toward him.
Kaden pants quietly next to me, eyes closed as we both come down from
our high. I can't be bothered moving so I shuffle up enough to put my legs
under the blanket, and he follows suit.
Before I can gather my thoughts, my body finally gives out, sleep hitting
me like a truck as I get swept into a wave of darkness.
Warm arms tighten around me, the feeling of a hard torso pressing into my
back.
Sunlight threatens to blind me so I keep my eyes squeezed shut, as
memories of last night slowly flood back through my mind.
Oh no.
Somewhere outside the room, I hear movement, and I realize that's what
has woken me up. I still, willing my eyes to open as I quickly try to adjust
to the light.
Listening closely, I confirm I can definitely hear someone in the house,
and I realize Blaise must be home. I have no idea what time it is, but I
quickly scamper to my feet, grabbing my clothes quickly.
"What are you doing?" Kaden groans quietly from the bed.
"Ssh!" I hiss at him, pulling on my jeans and shirt.
I rush over to the bedroom door, opening it slowly as I poke my head out.
Following the noise, I deduce that Blaise is in the living room, so I shut the
door briefly, turning to Kaden.
"You need to leave," I whisper.
He blinks at me sleepily. "Right now?"
I nod. "Get dressed," I order, opening the bedroom again and slipping out
into the hallway.
My feet drag heavily as I make my way to the living room. Blaise senses
me, turning around to smile at me.
"Hey," he says, warmly. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," I mutter, voice croaky. "When did you get home?"
Blaise straightens up, holding a suit up. "Not long ago. I've got my suit all
sorted."
"How was the bachelor party?" I ask, heart racing.
"It was fun," he answers, brushing some fluff off as he puts the suit into a
protective sleeve. "The best part was watching Alfie have a panic attack
when a giant cake came out."
"Trauma from the cake," I laugh nervously.
 Blaise shrugs. "Or the burlesque dancer popping out."
I force a smile, listening closely for sounds. I have no idea how I'm going
to get out of this mess.
I don't answer, and Blaise drapes the suit over the back of the armchair.
"Are you okay? You're worrying me again," he says.
"I'm fine," I answer quickly. "I just had a late night."
He frowns. "What happened?"
"Nothing," I stutter, but suddenly, the sound of my bedroom door opening
pauses our conversation.
I realize in my moment of panic that I forgot to provide more detailed
instructions of Kaden's departure — like going out the window.
Footsteps head down the hallway toward us, and Blaise's face changes
into one of shock as it dawns on him.
"Oh," he murmurs. "You had company."
Swallowing, I quickly turn, finding Kaden lingering in the doorway. He
looks at Blaise, before glancing over at me.
"I'll just be off then," he says quietly, pointing to the door.
I nod hastily, hoping to God he doesn't say anything further.
As he reaches for the door, Blaise interjects. "Wait a second," he says,
walking over.
"What?" I near-yell, trying to figure out what's going on.
Blaise grabs something off the floor, glancing at it briefly. "You dropped
your driver's license."
"Oh, thanks," Kaden says, reaching out for it.
Blaise goes to hand it to him, until he pauses, staring at it more intensely.
"Kaden Parker, is it?"

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirty Three

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Blaise shouts as Kaden leaves.
I flinch, never having experienced this side of Blaise before. He paces the
other side of the living room angrily, shaking his head. Stopping, he looks
at me again, running his hand over his face.
"Let me explain," I start but he scoffs.
"You don't need to explain," he snaps. "I think it's pretty clear what
happened. God — I thought we moved past this."
I stand awkwardly, hugging myself. "It's not what it looks like."
Blaise turns toward me. "Did you have sex with him?" he asks, frustrated.
"Yes," I murmur quietly.
"Then it's exactly what it looks like."
He opens his mouth to speak again but closes it, turning on his heel to
head to his bedroom. I take off after him desperately, catching him before
he goes inside.
"I just wanted to ask him a few questions," I sputter out. "We just hung
out for a bit."
Blaise whips around, glaring down at me. "I told you that you don't need
their closure. It wasn't going to fix anything."
"I know," I agree. "Curiosity got the better of me."
"Yeah," he says sarcastically. "It sure did."
My eyebrows furrow as I reach for his arm but he rips it away.
 "Blaise," I mumble. "It was just a few drinks. It was a dumb decision, I
know."
He shakes his head, eyes wide with irritation. "Yes, it was. Skylar, I can't
keep doing this."
"You don't have to," I argue. "I never asked you to save me."
"You can't even save yourself," he breathes out. "It's like you don't even
want to try."
My face drops. "I do! That's why I met up with him. I just needed that last
bit of information so I could move forward. Why are you so mad about
this?"
Blaise stares at me, silence between us. Finally, he cracks, letting out a
frustrated sigh.
"Because I care about you. But if you don't respect my advice, then stop
coming to me for things."
It's like I've been slapped in the face. I gape at him in disbelief.
"You're my best friend, Blaise. Of course I respect your advice. I've been
trying my best! Sometimes it's hard though. You know what it's like!"
He shakes his head, looking away. "I don't want to talk about this right
now. Just give me some space to process things," he grunts, heading into his
room and closing the door in my face.
I stare at the painted wood in horror, defeated. I want to talk to him, but I
make the right decision, turning and heading into my room.
It still smells like Kaden, and I angrily bundle up my sheets into a ball,
carrying them to the washing machine. I throw them in and head to the
shower, keen to wash away my sins.
When I finish showering, Blaise is still hiding in his room and I figure I'll
just give him some time. He'll come out soon and then we'll laugh about
this like we always do.
But he doesn't.
I don't see him for most of the day — only catching glimpses of him
whenever he goes to the kitchen or bathroom. I try to talk to him, but he
ignores me like I'm a ghost.
What the hell happened?
I'm ignored for the rest of the weekend and by Monday morning, I'm
confident that we'll be able to put it behind us. We work together after all —
we have to speak.
However, Blaise chooses to work in his bedroom, sending me emails
whenever he wants to communicate with me.
Realization dawns on me that I'm in the dog house and I focus on doing
my best work possible to get his attention.
Tuesday comes and nothing changes.
Wednesday… same thing.
By Thursday, I've resigned myself to the fact that I've fucked up our
friendship beyond repair and I can only assume that I'm not going to the
wedding tomorrow.
Even though the wedding is Saturday, Blaise needs to be there on Friday.
As his brother's best man, he's responsible for getting him to the event and
ready.
We had organized for me to stay on the property with some of his family
members, but I guess that's not happening.
Still, I pack my bag just in case. I had even treated myself to a new dress.
The sparkling light blue floor-length dress was gorgeous. Sure, it cost the
equivalent of three week's salary, but I was determined to not embarrass
Blaise. I went all out to make sure I was the best plus one ever.
Friday morning comes and I'm sitting on my bed, scrolling on my cell
mindlessly when my bedroom door swings open without a knock.
I look up, spotting Blaise and my heart stops with hope. He looks at me
blankly.
"Are you ready?"
"For the wedding?" I ask. "Yeah. I'm all packed. Did you still want me to
go?"
Blaise glances down at my luggage next to the door, before giving a sharp
nod. "Alfie already accounted for you. I'm not going to throw him another
curveball."
 "Oh," I mutter, disappointed. "Yeah, I'm ready."
"Good," he says dryly. "You can put your stuff in my car. I want to leave
in ten minutes."
Before I can say anything further, he's gone. My heart sinks — he's still
mad at me.
I carry my stuff out to his car, putting it in the back with his, and linger by
the rose bushes until he comes out.
He doesn't even glance at me as he strolls around to the driver's door and
climbs in. I hastily hop into the passenger seat, scared he'll drive off and
leave me if I don't follow.
Waiting until we're outside of St. Devil's Creek, I finally speak, trying to
start a conversation.
"So, are you excited?" I ask, trying to lighten the mood.
Blaise doesn't answer.
"It looks like it will be nice weather," I say, not giving up.
Glancing over at him, I watch as his jaw tenses up. I sigh, slumping in my
seat. "Blaise, can we please not do this?"
Again, no response.
I know what I did was wrong, but honestly, I think he's overreacting a bit.
So, I find some of that pettiness I reserve for special occasions and try one
more time.
"We should at least get on speaking terms. For Alfie and Lauren's sake."
Blaise's knuckles grip the steering wheel, but a second later, he finally
speaks.
"Fine. Yes, I'm excited. Yes, the weather will be nice."
Frustration fills me and I grimace. "Blaise, we don't have to talk about
what happened. We can talk about it after the wedding. Hell, I'll even move
out if that's what you want. But please… can we just talk?"
"Do you want to move out?" he responds dryly.
"No, of course not. But it seems like you might want me too."
Blaise lets out a small, sarcastic laugh. "You don't know anything, Skylar.
Just like I don't know you."
"You do know me," I murmur. "You know me better than anyone else."
He shakes his head. "I thought I did but now I'm not so sure."
Not willing to give up now that he's talking, I force out a bright smile.
"My name is Skylar Ivy Nixon. I'm a Capricorn and have recently given
up tequila — well, alcohol in general. I work in IT and can't cook very
well."
Blaise doesn't respond, his face completely void of emotion and I'm ready
to start screaming when he finally replies.
"So, your initials are SIN?" he chokes out.
Blinking, I'm confused that that's what he took away from my speech. "I
guess so."
"Wow."
I'm not sure what he's talking about, and for the first time in forever, I
start to feel awkward around him. I gaze out the window, lowering my
voice.
"Let's just forget about it."

"Blaise! You made it!"

A man around our age bounces toward us as soon as we step out of the
car onto Blaise's parents' property.
It's a rustic style farm with lots of shady trees, green grass, and a large
three-story house. Behind the house I spot a large barn, shiny, like it's only a
few years old.
"Hi, Michael," Blaise says warmly, making me jealous.
The tall, dark haired man gives him a tight hug, near picking Blaise up.
After he plops him down, he turns to me, honey-colored eyes scanning me.
"And you must be Skylar."
"I am," I answer politely, offering my hand.
Michael ignores it, opening his arms. "Come here!"
Suddenly, I'm hoisted off my feet, legs dangling as Michael squeezes me.
"That's enough," Blaise muses to him. "Where's Mom?"
"She's in the kitchen having a meltdown. She's insisting on cooking all of
tonight's dinner by herself. It's not going well."
Blaise sighs. "And she won't let anyone help her," he answers, already
knowing the situation.
"Of course not. Aunty Mack refuses to let us step foot inside the kitchen.
The boys and I are just hanging out the back, directing vendors."
 Michael looks at me, grinning. He has large dimples, his warm smile
putting me at ease slightly, even though I'm terrified everyone will sense
our tension.
"I'm Blaise's big cousin. His favorite cousin."
"That's what you like to think," Blaise groans. "Where's Alfie? I need to
check on him."
Michael points to the other side of the house. "If you listen very carefully,
you'll hear the sounds of the wind. And also… Alfie have a breakdown."
Blaise rolls his eyes. "Is that why you're over here?"
"I'm directing traffic," he says, motioning to the quiet driveway, before
giving me a wink.
"You're the welcoming committee," I laugh.
Michael grins. "No better person for the job."
"Anyone else would be better," Blaise teases, walking toward the house.
"Skylar, come with me."
"Bye!" Michael yells, waving at me. "See you soon."
I quickly catch up to Blaise. "He seems nice."
"He is."
We're back to stern stubborn words again, but I don't dare say anything
now that we're surrounded by his family.
As we walk around the house, I spot a group of guys — eight of them —
in a circle of sorts.
They turn as we approach, and it's easy to spot Alfie. He looks very much
like Blaise — the same colored hair and eyes. The rest of the group give us
various waves as Alfie rushes forward.
"Thank God, you're here finally," he groans.
Blaise checks his watch. "I said I'd be here at midday. I'm pretty much on
time."
Alfie looks over at me, relaxing and lightening up. "Oh, hello! Are you
Blaise's date?"
I nod, unsure whether to offer my hand or not. "Congratulations. Thank
you for having me."
He smiles, glancing at his brother briefly. "We're thrilled to have you.
Especially since this one made a little mess of things."
Blaise groans. "You and Mom need to give it a rest."
"She's still talking about it," Alfie says in a sing-song tone. "But whatever
you do: don't go into the kitchen."
 I laugh, and Alfie looks at me puzzled. I nod my head towards the
entrance.
"Michael warned us."
"Ahh," Alfie replies. "He's a good boy. When Mom gets started on a
mission, it's best to keep clear. This one," he nods at Blaise, "can attest to
that."
Blaise laughs, finally relaxing more. "I should probably go see her
shortly, just to let her know that I'm here."
Alfie frowns. "Don't be too long. The caterer is here trying to set up the
equipment for tomorrow and I'm also fairly certain the decorators don't
have the correct number of chairs."
"Yes, they do," another man behind them groans. "We counted twice."
We look back at the others and Blaise points at them individually.
"Skylar, these are my cousins and some of Alfie's friends. We have
Oliver, Jack, James, Axel, Lincoln, Cooper and Paul."
I wave at all of them, already forgetting most of their names. I'll have to
pay close attention later to remember when it's not as chaotic.
Blaise puts a hand on Alfie's shoulder. "I'll go say hi to Mom and then I'll
count the chairs, okay?"
He nods. "Thanks. And if she tries to talk to you about tiramisu, run!"
Laughing, Blaise motions for me to follow as we head for the house.
"How many are your cousins?" I ask.
"Three. The other four are his best friends."
The backdoor of the house is up a set of wide steps. It's a double door,
with large window panes. As we enter the house, I smell a concoction of
delicious food.
Blaise leads me through the maze-like hallway, stopping when we reach
the open doorway of the kitchen.
The sole occupant of the kitchen has her back to us, muttering to herself
while several pots are on the stove. The kitchen counter is filled with
condiments and ingredients and I'm impressed that one person can manage
all this on their own.
"Hi, Mom," Blaise muses.
She stills, whipping around with a shocked smile on her face. "Blaisey!"
Putting down a wooden spoon, she rushes forward, grabbing him tight
into a hug. Her apron squishes into him, leaving evidence of food on his
pants.
 Cupping his face, she examines him closely, checking for… I don't know,
marks?
"Are you eating?" she asks suspiciously.
"Yes, Mom," he groans. "Three times a day."
Satisfied with that answer, she lets him go with a smile. "Good. Who's
this?" she asks, looking at me.
I smile, nearly curtsying as I try to figure out how to proper address your
roommate's Mom. "I'm Skylar. It's lovely to meet you, Mrs. Nolan."
Mrs. Nolan is the splitting image of Blaise and Alfie, her bright
wandering eyes scanning over me.
"Skylar, it's nice to meet you. I need your opinion on something. What do
you think about tiramisu?"

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirty Four

Apparently, Blaise took Alfie's advice to run literally, leaving me alone in

the kitchen with his Mom, muttering about the chairs.
I couldn't help but panic. Everyone was adamant that we should stay out
of the kitchen, but now I'm in here… by myself with Mrs. Nolan. We know
I don't have the best track record dealing with things under pressure.
"Do you need a hand with anything?" I ask gingerly, looking around the
kitchen.
I expect her to say no based on everyone's earlier reactions, but she turns
around, nodding toward a bag of potatoes on the floor.
"Do you know how to peel?"
Surprised, I quickly answer. "Yes, I do."
"Great!" she says bubbly. "Can you peel some? The peelers are in the
second drawer on the right. Use the sink, please. I'll have to clean all this up
later. God knows they won't be any good," she murmurs, looking out the
window.
I pull the bag over to the sink, standing next to her as she pours
ingredients into a large mixing bowl. The window is in front of us, and I
spot Blaise talking to Alfie, a look of exasperation on his face.
Smiling, I muffle a laugh, fetching the peeler from the drawer and getting
to work.
"So, what do you do, Skylar?" Mrs. Nolan asks.
 "Oh," I mutter, holding the potato still as I peel the skin off. "I actually
work with Blaise."
She throws me a look of amazement. "With his IT business?"
I nod. "I look after the admin stuff for him."
"And you live together as well?"
It's not a question of concern, just curiosity. "We do. It's been about a year
now."
Mrs. Nolan purses her lips, humming. "So, you met Nathan?"
I feel my heart sink. Here it comes.
"I met him a few times," I confirm.
She sighs. "Such a shame. I told Blaisey he needs to start considering
settling down. Of course, it's completely up to him and I'm not trying to
rush him but the years are ticking by."
"He's still young," I tell her in a comforting tone. "And I heard all about
Alfie and Lauren's first meeting. Sounds like quite an adventure."
Mrs. Nolan beams, laughing. "It was definitely a day to remember.
Truthfully, I always thought Blaise would settle down before Alfie. That
boy showed no interest in relationships at all until Lauren came along."
"And Blaise?" I ask, curiously.
She pauses. "He did, but I think he views relationships differently than
most."
It makes sense to me, given what I know about Blaise. Nodding, I put a
potato into a bowl and grab another. "I think he wants to make sure he finds
the one."
"I think so too," she says gently. "I know he gets annoyed at me asking all
the time, but he always spoke so highly of Nathan. I thought it was… what
do the kids call it these days… end game?"
I laugh. "Yes, end game. Look, I'm not sure what happened but I do know
that Blaise is a good guy. He has his head screwed on straight. And no
matter what happens, he'll be okay."
Blaise points to the house, turning away from Alfie as he heads toward
us. He glances up, spotting me in the kitchen window. I smile, but he looks
back down, disappearing around the corner.
Mrs. Nolan grabs two eggs from the fridge, cracking them into the bowl.
"Blaise is a good boy. He was always there after my dear Robert passed. I
just want to make sure he doesn't forget about his own happiness. He's
always too busy putting other people first."
 Don't I know it…
She continues. "I think Blaise would really benefit from a good old blind
date. I met Robert that way actually. I remember thinking it couldn't go any
worse. But he surprised me. Maybe I'll ask some of my friends if their kids
are still single…"
"Who's still single?" Blaise asks, walking into the kitchen.
"I think Lacy is. You remember her, right? She's Julie's little girl. You
used to play with each other all the time."
Blaise stiffens. "When we were four, Mom."
"Okay," Mrs. Nolan relents. "What about Leigh? She runs the local
children's program in town. You went to school together."
"Mom… I'm fairly certain Leigh isn't into men."
She groans. "Well… I know! Margot! She works at the library. She's very
beautiful and friendly. Always asks me about my day when I return my
books."
I look over my shoulder, watching as Blaise's face drops further and
further. I can tell he's uncomfortable, trying to polite steer the conversation
away from this direction.
"Mom, I have a handle on my dating life. It's fine."
"Just one little blind date," she pleads. "Just to get you out of the house.
You work too much."
Blaise locks eyes with me, and for a brief second, I see him begging for a
reprieve. I try to think of something to change the topic of conversation, my
mind going blank.
Potatoes… I can talk about the potatoes.
I open my mouth but suddenly Mrs. Nolan is facing me, looking at me.
"What do you think, Skylar? We should get him away from work for a bit,"
she muses, asking for support.
Blaise stares at the fridge, standing still. And suddenly, I can't help
blurting out something — anything — to help rescue him.
"Blaise and I are dating."
"What?!" Mrs. Nolan and Blaise say at the same time, except she's much
louder, drowning him out. "You are?" she says, swinging around to look at
Blaise.
He looks at me, wide eyed and speechless. "Uh."
I shrug frantically, eyes apologetic.
WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME?
 Why would I even say that to his mother of all people?
I don't work well under pressure!
Realizing that was a very stupid thing to do, I open my mouth to rectify
the situation and say sorry, but Blaise cuts me off, holding a hand up as he
looks at his Mom.
"We are."
I freeze, shocked at his agreement.
Mrs. Nolan swings around to me, looking me up and down like it's the
first time she's seen me. Suddenly, she lets out a wild cry, rushing forward
to pull me in for a hug.
"That's wonderful!" she beams. "OH, Blaise. Why didn't you tell me?"
she says, rushing over to squeeze the life out of him.
He grunts, patting her back awkwardly. "It must have… slipped my
mind."
She doesn't notice our suspicious looks, dancing around as she returns
back to her mixing bowl. "I'm so happy for you both! When did you start
dating?"
"It's recent," Blaise mutters. "Very recent."
I quickly start peeling potatoes, staring at the sink like it's the most
engrossing movie I've ever watched.
"Mrs. Nolan, where do you want these?" I ask, nodding to the bowl.
"Sweetheart, call me Mackenzie. You can take them over to the counter
and start chopping them up."
I pick up the bowl, turning to put them in the center counter. Blaise walks
over, opening a cabinet door to retrieve a chopping board.
"Here," he murmurs, handing it to me.
"Thanks," I whisper, locking eyes with him.
It's hard to get a read on his expression, and I can't help but panic. Have I
made him even more mad?
Blaise reaches over to the knife block, the sound of metal brushing
against metal. He stands next to me, taking the potatoes from the bowl. "I'll
help," he says casually, picking up a potato.
"Are you sure?" I mutter, and I hope he realizes I'm not asking about the
potatoes.
He nods. "Mom, perhaps Skylar should meet the girls soon."
She gasps at the idea. "Of course. Lauren and her bridal party are
upstairs. Once you finish chopping the potatoes, put them on to boil and
take Skylar up. You can also show her to her room. Wait… what am I
saying? You'll probably want her to stay with you."
My hand slips on the counter, nearly connecting with the knife as Blaise
chops. He glances at me in alarm, moving the chopping board away.
"I don't mind staying in my own room," I hastily say, trying to be polite
and calm. "I don't want to put you guys out."
"Nonsense!" Mrs. Nolan exclaims. "It's one less room to tidy up anyway.
You can stay in Blaise's room. I don't mind at all."

"I'm so, so sorry," I whisper as we head up the stairs.

The two of us smell strongly of food, hands covered in tiny bits of potato.
"It's fine," he groans. "At least it gets her off my back. But I hope you
realize she'll be on yours now."
I flinch. "I shouldn't have said anything."
Blaise stops in front of a door once we reach the landing. "What's done is
done. Anyway, this level of the house is all the main bedrooms. This is the
guest room. Alfie's room is next door. Mine is down the far end."
"What about your Mom's?" I ask nervously.
He picks to the ceiling. "Her room is on the top story. There's also another
bedroom up there where Lauren and her girls are sleeping tonight."
"So, I'm sleeping in your room?" I swallow.
Blaise heads down to the end of the hallway, opening the last door. "Yep."
I step inside, looking around curiously. My panic fades temporarily as I
take in the memories of Blaise. It's almost exactly what I'd expect — similar
to his bedroom back home.
His double bed is in the center of the room, the headboard pushed against
the wall. To the left of the bed is a huge computer desk, scattered with old
paperwork, and a computer in the middle.
To the right of his room is a beanbag, a bookcase filled to the brim.
There's a few trophies on the shelves next to the books and I walk over,
scanning the plaque.
"You played football?" I ask, laughing.
 Blaise snorts. "Only for one season. I made a bet with Alfie that I could
get a trophy. I don't think he realized everyone got one, but I did it."
I raise an eyebrow, amused. "Any other secrets I should know? Any
dancing ribbons?"
A smile tugs at his lips. "All my secrets are on the computer."
I glance over at it. "How old is that thing?"
"It's an old Windows PC," he grunts. "Probably runs slower than a snail
but I reckon I could pull it apart and do some work on it."
"Ah… good old dial-up days," I tease. "I can imagine you up here,
teaching yourself computer things."
Walking over the window, I look out over the farm, lips parting at the
stunning view. Mountains are visible in the distance over all the shady,
green trees. They sway gently in the breeze, and the late afternoon sun is
casting little orange glows.
"Wow," I whisper. "It's beautiful."
Blaise takes a few seconds to respond. "Yeah… it is."
Turning my head to look over my shoulder, I notice him watching me,
and I glance down. "So, what else did you do in here?"
He walks over, standing behind me as he points out the window. The guys
are still setting up below and he directs his finger at Alfie. "I used to shoot
Alfie with a nerf gun from this window."
I laugh. "I bet he loved that."
Blaise joins in, laughing too. "Once I accidentally shot Dad instead. The
two of them ganged up on me. I was forced to watch Titanic. Twice."
"In a row?" I ask.
He nods. "They tied me to a chair and left me there. I still can't listen to
'My Heart Will Go On'."
"I'll make a note to request it for the DJ tomorrow," I snicker.
Blaise leans his arm against the window sill, boxing me in. I turn around,
smiling at him, imagining all the possible threats he has. I like that we're
back talking again. It feels like a huge weight has lifted from my shoulders.
He studies my face, his eyes dipping down to my lips before coming back
up.
… What?
"I'd still dance with you to it," he says, suddenly pulling back.
As he turns to head to the bedroom door, I realize there's footsteps
coming down the hallway. He must have heard them before I did, and when
he opens it, talking to his Mom, I notice that my heart is racing like a
speeding bullet.

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 Chapter Thirty Five

"Sky, meet Lauren," Blaise says warmly.

We've gone upstairs with Mrs. Nolan — no, Mackenzie — and finally, I
get to meet the bride-to-be.
Lauren is the perfect girl next door. Long auburn hair, bright green eyes,
and a warm smile. She's a bit shorter than me, but she holds herself well,
standing like she's the tallest in the room as she radiates with confidence.
"Hi," she greets, pulling me in for a hug.
I hug her back, amazed that everyone in this family is so touchy-feely.
"Hey Lauren. Congratulations!"
She beams at me, eyes shifting to Mackenzie. "She's adorable, isn't she?"
"Did you hear the news?" Mackenzie says, putting her arm around my
shoulder. "She's Blaise's girlfriend."
Lauren looks at me, surprised. "Serious? Oh, I love that for you guys! I
thought you were just roommates."
Blaise lingers in the doorway, casually leaning against the frame. "It's
recent," he says again.
"Well, that's great! Anyway, let me introduce you to my girls," Lauren
murmurs softly, ushering me further into the room.
It's a vision of white and florals — dresses hanging up, bouquets packed
together, and makeup and hair supplies scattered around the room.
 The girls have blown up mattresses stacked against the wall, and they all
give me a wave as I cringe at the thought of having to remember another
bunch of names.
"We have Meredith, my maid of honor," she says, pointing to the brunette
on the far left. "Stacey is next to her. Then, Sara. And in the corner is
Chantelle."
"Hi guys," I say politely. "It looks like you have all been busy too." I
motion to the floor, wondering if perhaps any of these wedding accessories
came from Marco's warehouse. Maybe I packed one of them before I quit.
Lauren lets out a groan. "It's been chaotic. But thankfully we're all ready
for tomorrow! How is the food going, Mack? Do you need a hand?"
Mackenzie swats a hand at her. "I told you, you're not helping. This is
about you and Alfie. Besides, I have Skylar here."
I nod eagerly. "I'm more than happy to help."
Lauren laughs. "Okay, but we're all happy to help. We're just so thankful
you're letting us get married here."
"Please," Blaise draws out. "Mom insisted on it."
Mackenzie turns on Blaise, wagging her finger at him. "Nothing wrong
with that. That's why we have this big property so you guys can use it.
Maybe one day you'll use it too," she says suggestively.
I feel heat flush through my cheeks and I avoid looking at Blaise. Lauren
laughs at Mackenzie's gesture, smiling at her.
"Don't rush them, Mack. You'll scare the poor girl off."
I love that Lauren is so confident with Blaise's family. They all seem
close-knit. It actually reminds me of my own family, and I make a note to
reach out to my parents when I get back home. I should go and visit them.
I've been delaying it until Uncle Logie's farewell, but I'm all they have left.
Seeing all of Blaise's family here, laughing together, reminds me that
there's more to life than emotionally challenged men who break hearts for
fun.
"It takes a lot to scare me off," I grin at Lauren. "Besides, it can't be any
worse than living with Blaise."
"Hey!" he wheezes. "What did I do?"
I shrug. "Oh, nothing."
Mackenzie elbows me gently. "He made you watch movies, didn't he?"
Swinging around, I gape at her. "You know about that?"
 "Oh, heavens," she laughs. "He got that from his father. Before
everything went digital we had so many video tapes and DVDs. Every night
it was a new movie with the three boys. They used to go play movie trivia.
Never lost a game," she finishes proudly.
I switch my attention to Blaise, who's watching his mother with fondness
and admiration. "Best nights of my life."
Lauren nods. "Alfie has a whole theater room set up in the new house
we're building," she adds, looking at me. "He didn't care what design we
had or what colors were on the wall. His only condition was that we had a
theater room."
"We watch a lot of movies too," I tell them. "I enjoy them."
Blaise snorts, and I shake my head, ignoring him.
"Most of the time," I add on.
Mackenzie rubs Blaise's cheek. "Don't you hurt her, Blaisey. She's a good
one."
"I won't," he says, smiling at me. "I better go check on Alfie. He'll
probably want me to count the chairs again."

Dinner is amazing.
I had no idea Mackenzie was so talented. There's about twenty of us but
she's cooked enough for at least thirty-five people. The boys have moved
long tables outside onto the grass by the house, fairy lights dangling
through the trees around and above us.
I'm perched next to Blaise, sitting across from Alfie. I'm fascinated by
him and the way he watches Lauren. It's like they make each other glow.
"I'm so happy we're all together," Mackenzie says from the end of the
table. She's sitting, facing down the table so she can see all of us like a
classic head of family figure. There's an empty seat next to her, on Alfie's
left, which I realize has been left reserved for Robert.
"Yeah, it's been a long time coming," Alfie muses. "Tomorrow is the big
day."
 Lauren rests her hand on top of his, their fingers threading together.
"Don't get cold feet now."
He smiles down at her, like he's forgotten that the rest of us are here. "Not
likely. I'll be up there tomorrow, waiting for you."
I hear a few of Lauren's bridesmaids sigh happily, and I look away,
feeling like I'm intruding on a personal moment.
Next to me, Blaise grabs his glass of wine, leaning down to whisper to
me.
"You haven't touched your wine," he says, nodding to my still-full glass.
"Alcohol and I are taking a break," I reply. "We're a little toxic together."
He smirks, shaking his head. "One glass won't kill you."
"Are you actually encouraging me to drink?" I muse.
"Well, it's not tequila," he shrugs, still smiling.
I snort quietly. "You're a bad influence," I shoot back, picking up the
glass and taking a sip.
When I turn my focus back to the table, I lock eyes with Lauren and
Alfie.
"You guys are so cute together," Lauren murmurs, leaning her head on
Alfie's shoulder.
"Uh, thank you," I reply politely, taking a gulp.
I register the fact that Mackenzie is also watching us and I shove my knee
into Blaise's under the table, hinting at him to do something.
"So, is your suit ready?" he asks Alfie, getting the signal loud and clear.
Alfie nods. "Mom moved all the suits into the guest room since it's vacant
now."
God damn. The conversation just keeps coming back around to us.
"Better in there than your room," Blaise teases.
"Hey! My room is tidy," Alfie hits back.
Looking down the table, I wonder if everyone is sleeping here tonight. I
assume so since there's nothing else for miles around.
"Where is everyone sleeping tonight?" I ask Alfie. "I know the girls are
upstairs, but do you guys have a special place too?"
Alfie shakes his head. "We're a bit spread out. Blaise is in his room —
obviously — and there's a few smaller rooms downstairs. The guys are
sharing mostly."
"I'm sleeping in the living room!" Michael adds from down the other end
of the table. "Best couch I've ever felt, Aunty Mack!"
 Mackenzie waves her fork, pointing it at him. "Make sure you take your
shoes off before you lay on it. Otherwise I'll be having words with your
mother."
I laugh, along with the others. Blaise's leg brushes against mine and I
glance over at him, watching as he has a drink. He notices me staring, eyes
looking back out of his peripheral vision.
"What?" he asks.
"Nothing," I say, shaking my head.
It still weighs on my mind that there's only one bed in Blaise's room. But
I don't think it will be a problem. As far as I know I don't take up a lot of
room. Worst case scenario, I'll sleep on the bean bag.
After dinner, we all help Mackenzie tidy up. The boys pack away the
tables, while the girls take leftover food and dishes inside. That's as far as
she allows it though, ushering all of us out of the kitchen.
As I head to the stairs so I can fetch some fresh clothes from my bag, I
spot Alfie and Lauren at the landing of the second level, saying goodnight.
"I can't wait to marry you tomorrow," Lauren grins, holding his face.
Alfie leans forward, kissing her. "I'll be waiting. Don't be late."
My heart swells. I hope I find that type of love one day.
I drag my feet up the stairs extra slow, waiting until Lauren turns, heading
up to the next level. When she disappears out of view, I resume my normal
pace, meeting Alfie on the landing.
"Big day tomorrow," I say to him. "You better get some rest tonight."
Alfie smiles at me, reminding me so much of Blaise. "They say it's the
best day of your life. I don't think I'll get a wink of sleep tonight."
I nod. "Have a coffee in the morning. How do you take it?"
He raises an eyebrow at me, intrigued. "Cream and three sugars."
"Three?" I laugh.
"Everything has to be in increments of three or five," he says. "And two
is not quite sweet enough."
I grin at him. "I'll make sure that there's coffee in the morning," I promise
him, hearing footsteps coming up the stairs behind me.
We both turn, spotting Blaise. He looks between us, visibly relaxed.
"How are you feeling, Alfie?" he asks his younger brother.
Alfie nods. "I'm ready. The real question is are you ready?"
"To dance tomorrow? Fuck no," Blaise laughs. "I'm still mad that I let
you talk me into it."
 I snort. Alfie looks at me amused.
"Oh, you've heard?"
"I can't wait," I grin at him. "Did you position the cameras up in the
trees? We want footage from all angles."
Playing along, Alfie nods, a serious look on his face. "All twenty cameras
are up and running. We're even going to live stream it on Facebook."
"Oh, very funny you two," Blaise grunts. "Good to see you have inside
jokes now. Gosh, can't take you anywhere," he teases, putting his arm
around my shoulder.
I reach out to hold his wrist, leaning into him. "What are girlfriends for?"
He looks down at me with an expression I can't quite figure out. I start to
let go of his wrist, but he tightens his hold around me, making me stay put.
He turns to Alfie, relaxing again.
"I'm going to shower and settle in for the night. I'll come get you bright
and early, just in case you sleep through your alarm. But if you need
anything, just come get me."
Alfie puts his hand on Blaise's other shoulder — the arm not holding me
— and smiles at him.
"Thank you, brother. I can't wait to have you up there with me
tomorrow."
"I wouldn't be anywhere else," Blaise says, ushering us down the hallway.
I look over my shoulder, peeking over Blaise's arm. "Goodnight, Alfie!"
He waves at me, hand on his bedroom door handle. "Night, Skylar. Try
not to make too much noise tonight."
I stiffen awkwardly but Blaise just laughs.
"We wouldn't dare disturb your beauty sleep, brother dearest. But I can't
promise that the nerf guns are hidden away."

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 Chapter Thirty Six

After I take a quick shower, I walk back into Blaise's bedroom, still drying
my hair. I find him sitting up on the bed, legs sprawled out as he stares at
the book shelf.
When I enter, he looks over at me, smiling.
"How was your shower?" he asks.
"So good," I reply with a groan. "The water pressure here is much better
than ours."
Blaise nods. "The landlord really needs to sort his shit out."
I fold my towel, placing it over the back of the computer chair. Turning
around, I look at the bed, before focusing on Blaise.
"If you'd prefer for me to sleep on the bean bag or something, I'm fine
with that."
He raises an eyebrow at me, astonished. "I'm not letting you sleep on the
floor."
I grin sheepishly, hands playing with the bottom of my oversized shirt.
The tips of my shorts are barely visible so I tug them down a bit, walking
over to the other side of the bed.
"I don't snore," I tell him proudly. "But if I kick in my sleep, I do
apologize."
Blaise laughs, pulling his rings off his fingers. "We'll be fine. Just climb
in. We have a big day tomorrow."
 Pulling back the blanket, I climb into the bed, letting out a groan as my
head hits the pillow. "Oh, man. I am going to crash so hard. I'm wrecked."
He pauses, looking over at me. I tilt my head to gaze back at him,
confused. "What?"
"Nothing," he says. "Let me know when you're ready and I'll get the
light."
"Probably for the best," I mumble, sleep already threatening to take over
me. "I'd likely run into something. I'm ready."
Blaise gets off the bed, and I glance sleepily at him as he crosses the
room to the light switch. He's in his usual pajamas, toned legs flexing as he
walks.
A few seconds later, the room is dark, and I hear his muffled footsteps
before the mattress sinks with his weight.
He throws the blanket over himself and immediately, I can feel his warm
body temperature close to my arm.
Reaching out, I touch his arm gently.
"Hm?"
"Goodnight," I say. "Thanks for still bringing me."
Blaise hums to himself for a brief second. "I'm glad you're here," he
replies. "Get some rest."
"Okay," I whisper, rolling onto my side, facing his direction. I cuddle my
pillow with my arms, curling into a ball. And for once, I sleep peacefully
without nightmares or broken patches of restlessness.

Somewhere in the room Blaise's cell alarm buzzes, jolting me awake.

I'm a little groggy, eyes blurred as I glance around the room, blinking
until it comes into focus. The room is filled with sunlight, the blue walls
reflecting little bits of sparkle and dust.
When I can see clearly, I'm startled as arms tighten around my waist.
"I don't want to get up," Blaise mumbles, still half-asleep.
I stay motionless, registering the feel of his chest against my back.
Smiling to myself, I relax, not fazed now that the initial shock was over.
We've hugged a thousand times before. It's only natural that we might do it
in our sleep too.
"It's wedding day," I murmur. "I'm on coffee duty. You're on groom duty."
Blaise stretches out, pausing suddenly. Slowly, his arms pull back, letting
me go.
"Wedding day," he repeats. "I better make sure Alfie is awake."
Above us, the sound of footsteps walk around. I turn onto my back,
staring at the ceiling.
"The girls are already awake," I state. "I imagine hair and makeup takes a
long time."
Blaise rolls onto his back too, relaxing for a second while he tries to wake
up more. "Definitely."
"I bet she looks beautiful," I whisper.
He turns his head to look at me, eyes scanning my face. "You're beautiful
too," he says, surprising me.
"Thanks," I reply, feeling shy at the compliment. It's much too easy for
my brain to register all of this.
Blaise nods. "The guys and I will be getting ready in the guest rooms
downstairs. Will you be okay getting ready in here? I'm sure if you want to
go upstairs, the girls would be more than happy for you to do it with them."
"I'm okay," I smile. "I'll get dressed in here. They are probably having
getting ready photos taken. I don't want to be in the way."
"You wouldn't be," he replies but I shake my head, sitting up.
"I'll behave and promise not to snoop around," I laugh, swinging my legs
out of the bed. "Anyway, I'm going to go to the kitchen and start making
some coffee for Alfie. Tell him I said good morning."
Blaise climbs out of bed, stretching. "I will. Just come get me if you need
me, okay?"
I walk over to him, putting my hands on his shoulders. "Today is about
you. I know it's Alfie and Lauren's day, but you're the best man. That's a
really important role. You focus on what's important. I've got it all taken
care of. Don't worry about me for once. Let me worry about you."
He smiles, looking down at me. "I always worry about you."
"Except when you're mad," I laugh, trying to crack a joke.
Blaise's eyes scan my face, serious. "Even when I'm mad."
Swallowing, I realize my stomach is doing flips. Taking a step back, I
take a deep breath, giving him a reassuring smile. "Today will be magical,"
I say to him, heading for the door. "Now, go get your brother out of bed."

The kitchen is empty when I enter, and I make a beeline for the pantry,
searching for coffee.
I'm pleasantly surprised to find everything neatly organized and labeled.
Grabbing what I need, I get to work, making coffee for Alfie.
"Cream and three sugars," I mutter to myself, making sure I do it
correctly.
Coffee is an important part of the morning, and I'm determined to make
sure I start his day off right. When I finish Alfie's cup, I make one for
myself, before deciding that Blaise needs caffeine too.
As I'm packing up, I hear the boys come downstairs, heading to the guest
rooms.
Grabbing Alfie and Blaise's coffees, I carefully carry them across the
house, pushing the door to the guest room open with my foot.
There's a flurry of movement as the guys try to get things in some type of
organization. Suits hang from the curtains and I spot Alfie immediately,
hovering in the corner as he watches the groomsmen while giving
instructions.
"No, the shoe boxes need to go in the corner together. Stack them on top
of each other. Who has the bowties?"
"Knock knock," I say, as Alfie looks over. He glances at the cup, eyes
lighting up.
"You have coffee," he groans. "God, I love you."
Blaise pokes his head up from the other side of the bed, scaring me. I
didn't realize he was on the floor, his dark eyes finding me immediately at
the mention of coffee.
Alfie takes his cup, thanking me profusely. I smile at Blaise, holding up
his. "One for you too."
He smiles, standing up from the floor and walking over. "We've lost a
cufflink," he says, taking the cup from me.
 "And here I thought you were searching for monsters under the bed," I
tease.
"Very funny," he laughs. "You didn't have to make me coffee," he adds
warmly.
I brush him off with my hand. "Don't be silly. We make coffee for each
other all the time. Do the other guys want any?"
A few hopeful faces look over and I pull my cell out from my pocket,
opening up a blank text message. "Alright," I laugh. "Everyone give me
your orders."
I jot them all down, returning to the kitchen to start again. Two by two, I
take coffee to the room to the appreciative groomsmen before heading back
upstairs with my own.
The wedding is in two hours, so I sit down on the computer chair,
scrolling on my cell for a bit as I drink my coffee.
It's a beautiful day — the perfect wedding weather.
Even though this is all I ever wanted, I'm so happy for the couple. I
thought it would be harder after everything that happened with Jordan, but
surprisingly, I'm at ease here. I don't know if it's the welcoming warmth
from Blaise's family, the fact that I'm finally allowing myself to heal, or that
the feelings of love are so contagious — but regardless, I'm so excited for
today.
I make sure to give myself an hour to get ready. When there's about an
hour until the ceremony, I send Blaise a message checking in to see if they
need me to do anything. He writes back that they are fine and to relax, so I
stand at the window, watching the flurry and frenzy below.
It looks like the ceremony is going to be held outside, not far from where
we had dinner last night. There's a gorgeous large floral archway
constructed with two sides of white chairs.
As people walk in and out of the barn, I realize the reception will be
inside. Finally, I drag myself away from the window to start pulling my
dress out of the garment bag.
It's a mission to pull it on myself, but I manage. The blue material hugs
my torso before fanning out to the floor, the bottom half a lace tulle flowy
effect. The sparkles shine in the sunlight and I realize my dress is a similar
color to Blaise's bedroom.
Only the top part of the dress is sparkled — little bits of silver sequins
across my chest and the bottom of the waistband. The top of the dress has
two thin straps that go over my shoulders, the back of the dress lacing up
like thin corset straps. Once again, not sure how I managed to squeeze my
way into this alone, but I'm thankful no one witnessed my worm-like dance
moves.
Blaise's room has a mirror stand in the corner, covered by an old blanket.
I remove it, standing in front to put makeup on. I try to keep it simple —
some black winged liner, light blue eyeshadow and mascara, with a classic
red lip.
Hair always confuses me. I never know what to do with it. I brought my
curler with me so I opt for soft beach waves, letting my hair down.
When I'm finished, I'm elated to see there's still twenty minutes before the
ceremony starts. I figure it's best to start making my way down so I can take
a seat.
Checking my cell in case I have any messages from Blaise, I put it on
silent before popping it into my matching blue purse. I quickly put my blue
aquamarine tennis bracelet and silver strappy heels on, heading to the door.
The whole second story is quiet, the only sounds coming from the above
level as the girls squeal in excitement. As I reach the stairs, I glance up,
spotting one of Lauren's bridesmaids. She smiles at me, motioning for me to
come up.
Smiling, I climb the steps to the third story, greeting her warmly.
"Meredith," she says happily.
"Oh, thank you," I breathe out, relieved. "I have so many names to
remember."
Laughing, she shakes her head. "You're absolutely fine. Oh, my gosh,"
she mutters, looking me up and down. "You are beautiful."
"Right back at you," I smile.
Meredith is dressed in a floor-length flowy purple dress, her brown hair
pinned up in soft curls. She beckons me to follow her to Lauren's room and
when she opens the door, I'm greeted with an ethereal vision of white.
Lauren pauses, looking at me with a big, bright smile. "Sky! You look
beautiful!"
Tears well in my eyes, but it's not because of her compliment. It's because
of her.
She's radiant — her princess ball gown flowing around her like waves.
It's strapless, the bodice beaded with sparkling white sequins and lace.
 "Lauren," I mutter, trying to compose myself. "You are the most beautiful
bride I've ever seen."
Her eyes widen momentarily before she waves me off. "Oh, stop. You'll
make me cry."
"You're going to make me cry," I laugh, wiping under my eye.
The other bridesmaids are dressed exactly like Meredith and I notice
Lauren's bouquet on the bed. Walking over, I pick it up, handing it to her.
She takes it, smiling.
"You're all ready," I say to her.
"I just need something blue," she murmurs, looking around the room.
"We've come up short."
I glance around, spotting lots of white. Pausing, I put my purse on the
bed.
"Here," I say, undoing my bracelet. "Wear this."
Lauren watches quietly, lip trembling slightly. She holds out her hand and
I clip it on her wrist, smiling.
"There," I finish. "Now you're ready."
She reaches out suddenly, hugging me. "Thank you," she whispers.
I hug her back, giving the bridesmaid a smile.
"I'll go make sure the coast is clear for you," I say, pulling back. "I'll see
you down there."
Heading out of the room, I make my way down the first set of stairs to the
second landing. As I head down the next set, the groomsmen start walking
past, heading to the backdoor.
They all give me grins and smiles, along with a few waves. I'm their best
friend now. You don't make friends with salad, but you sure do with coffee.
Blaise is the last groomsman, coming around the corner with Alfie as I
descend the last final steps.
"Whoa," he breathes out, pausing in his tracks. Alfie runs into him,
grunting before following his line of vision.
"Skylar!" Alfie says excitedly. "Look at you."
I laugh. "Look at me," I repeat, stepping off the stairs. "And look at you
guys. Most handsome bridal party I've ever seen."
Alfie grins, running his hand down his black jacket to smooth out non-
existent creases. He has a white bowtie underneath, while the groomsmen
have purple ones. Under their jackets they have white shirts, and matching
black trousers.
 "Why, thank you. I picked them out myself," he says proudly.
"You did well," I smile. "And just wait until you see your bride."
His eyes light up brightly, before he looks over at Blaise. "I'll see you out
there," he tells his brother, disappearing after the other groomsmen.
"Alright," Blaise replies, still looking at me.
I walk over to him, straightening up his bowtie. "There. Now you're
perfect," I muse. "And I'm ready for these awesome dance moves."
Blaise laughs, looking me up and down. "God, Sky. You're the most
beautiful woman I've ever seen."
I shake my head playfully. "Just wait until you see Lauren," I tell him.
"You're going to have to hold Alfie up."
He stares at me intensely. "I can say without a doubt that I'll be watching
you."
My heart races again, our eyes locking.
What is going on? Why do I feel like this?
Butterflies swirl around my stomach and slowly, I begin to realize.
Oh, my God. I think I have feelings for my best friend.
Swallowing, I force a smile, fixing up his jacket. "You better get out
there. The girls will be heading down shortly."
Blaise nods, not moving.
"What?" I ask.
He smiles, offering me his arm. "I'll walk you to your seat."
Laughing softly, I link my arm with his. "Alright then."
We head out the doors and by now, most of the guests have taken their
seats. Eyes look over as we cross the grass, and I can't help but feel a little
fraction of guilt at our deception.
Mackenzie spots us, covering her mouth as she gasps before she smiles,
whispering to someone.
I look down, embarrassed at the attention, but Blaise squeezes my hand.
"They all think you are beautiful," he murmurs. "And they are right."
"Stop," I groan. "You're making me blush."
Blaise grins at me, pausing when we reach a vacant seat in the front row.
I look at him bewildered.
"The front row?"
He nods. "Mom insisted you sit next to her."
"That's really sweet," I smile. "Alright, off you go."
 Blaise leans down, kissing my cheek. I'm stunned, but before I can react,
he turns, walking over to Alfie who's waiting at the start of the aisle.
Quickly, I sit down in my seat, trying to shield myself from curious eyes.
It's not long before Mackenzie joins me, wiping eyes as she looks at
Alfie.
"My baby boy is getting married."
"Yeah, he is," I reply, watching Blaise over my shoulder.
Sensing my gaze, he looks over, smiling. I return a smile his way, just as
music starts playing.
Blaise walks Alfie down the aisle, the two of them joining the other
groomsmen in front of the floral archway.
The song changes, and we turn our heads again, spotting the bridesmaids
coming out of the house one by one. They make their way down the aisle,
looking elegant and gorgeous. And when Lauren walks out of the house
with her father, we stand.
As she reaches the start of the aisle, I turn my head to look at Alfie,
desperate to see his reaction.
And he doesn't disappoint.
He looks ready to break down crying with happy tears as she glides
toward him. Suddenly, my eyes shift next to him, finding Blaise.
My heart skips a beat as I find him watching me, completely focused on
me alone.
We exchange a smile and then I realize.
I don't think I have feelings for Blaise.
I know it.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirty Seven

The wedding goes off without a hitch. At the end of the ceremony, we're all
blessed with some awesome dance moves as the groomsmen and
bridesmaids dance down the aisle to Gangnam Style. I guess Alfie changed
the music.
Even if he won't admit it, I can tell Blaise is having fun. He's paired up
with Meredith and he twirls her down the aisle, sunglasses suddenly
appearing as the groomsmen slip them on.
Everyone is laughing, enjoying themselves, and it's easy to feel the same.
Mackenzie is a bawling mess beside me, and I hold her hand while she
simultaneously laughs and cries. Lauren and Alfie dance down the aisle last,
the guests cheering and yelling as they go. At the end of the aisle, Alfie
picks her up bridal-style, swinging her around.
"We're going to do family photos," Mackenzie says to me, pulling herself
together. "Come."
She grabs my hand, dragging me with her as the remaining guests are
instructed by the wedding officiant to head to the barn for drinks and
canapes.
"Are you sure?" I breathe out, alarmed. "I'm happy to sit it out."
"Nonsense," she gasps. "You're family."
My eyes widen but I don't dare say anything in case I ruin everything.
She pulls me over to the bridal party just as the photographer starts giving
them instructions.
"We're going to start with the bridal party over here," he shouts, his face
hidden under a large wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses. "We are going to
get the mountains in the background. Then, we'll do some family pictures."
I linger awkwardly next to Mackenzie, watching as he snaps pictures of
the bridal party. When they are done, he turns to Mackenzie.
"Okay, mother of the groom and groom's family!"
"Come," she says again, grabbing my hand and tugging me toward Alfie
and Lauren.
"Okay," I squeak, feet near tripping as my heels catch in the soft grass.
My eyes find Blaise and I look at him, silently apologizing with my eyes.
He doesn't look at all bothered, chatting to Alfie with a warm smile.
"Best man, can you move over to the side?" the photographer asks but
Mackenzie cuts him off.
"No, no. This lovely lady is his partner," she shouts, gesturing to me. "I
want both of them in the photo. Blaise! Come stand next to Skylar."
Blaise nods, shifting over to stand next to me. Alfie is on his left, and I'm
placed on his right, while Mackenzie stands next to Lauren.
"I'm so sorry," I whisper through my required smile.
He smiles for the camera, leaning down to grab my hand. "Don't stress."
When the photographer has taken a few shots, Lauren's family joins us —
two families now one, before they get their own pictures as well.
"I'm going to go into the barn," I say to Blaise, moving out of the way.
Blaise nods, gesturing to a person standing near the barn entrance. "Go
see Michael. He's over there with my other cousins. I'll join you soon."
I give a quick thumbs up, walking over to his cheery relative.
"Skylar!" he greets, pulling me in for a hug. "My, my. You scrub up well."
"Back at you," I laugh.
Michael looks around before spotting what he's searching for. He grabs
two glasses of champagne from a server, handing one to me.
"Here's to my fabulous cousin and his bride," he says, raising his glass.
I tap my glass against his, joining in the conversation with his cousins.
Eventually, we're ushered inside to take our seats. I'm happy to find I'm
seated with Blaise's family, next to his mom, at a table. Some of his cousins
are with us too, along with Blaise's aunty and uncle. Once again, there's a
seat saved for Robert and I take a moment to contemplate what Blaise said
about his family's view on love.
 True love really doesn't die. Even though Robert is gone, the Nolans
make sure he's included in everything. And I have no doubt he's watching
over today, proud of his youngest son.
When we're all seated, the bridal party is introduced one by one, the
paired couples making their way into the barn with more dance moves.
They sit at the bridal table, joined last by the newly-wed Mr. and Mrs.
Nolan.
Food, Speeches, cake cutting, and first dance follow. When the bridal
party is instructed to take the dance floor at the end of the first dance, I
watch as Blaise guides Meredith to the floor. His warm eyes are watching
her politely, a small conversation passing between them as they dance with
the other members of the bridal party.
A small uncomfortable feeling hits me when I realize I want to dance
with him too. It's not jealousy, rather a longing to be up there with him.
"We're going to open the dance floor now to everyone," the wedding MC
announces on the microphone. "Please join the bridal party while cake is
being served."
Blaise leans down to whisper something to Meredith, who nods, walking
off to another table with a smile. I follow her, watching as she grabs a man
to pull onto the dance floor. That must be her partner I realize, smiling to
myself.
"Care to dance?"
I look up, Blaise standing in front of me with his hand out.
"Absolutely," I murmur, taking it as he leads me onto the dance floor with
the other couples.
I've never been good at dancing, but I know enough at least. I hang my
arms over his shoulders as he places his on my waist. We sway to the music
and I grin at him.
"Your dance moves were great," I tease. "Perfect footage for blackmail."
He laughs loudly, the sound drowned out by the music. "I'm happy Alfie
changed the song. The sunglasses were my idea though."
"They looked great," I say proudly.
We continue swaying to the music, until the photographer comes up to us,
tapping Blaise on the shoulder.
"Hm?" he answers, sounding slightly annoyed.
"I want to grab some pictures of you two. Can you please kiss while you
dance?" the photographer asks sharply.
 I suck in a breath. This is it. We're done for.
Surprisingly, Blaise nods, looking back at me.
I stare at him with slightly wide-eyes, trying not to appear too alarmed.
"What do we do?" I ask in a hushed tone. "I can pretend to roll my ankle.
Blaise raises an eyebrow. "Don't be silly. I'm going to kiss you now."
His face inches towards me and my heart starts pounding against my
chest. His lips press against mine softly, grazing them. My eyes flutter
closed and I kiss him back, his arms wrapping around my waist.
It feels like the music is being drowned out, the sounds disappearing. All
I can feel is him as he becomes the center of the room, everyone else
forgotten.
Bright, white lights flash next to us, but I barely notice them, too
engrossed in the feel of his lips against mine.
He's perfect.
The world melts away as it becomes just us, swaying to melodies as we
kiss and embrace one another.
"Thank you," the photographer says, walking away.
I barely register his absence, not ready to let this moment go. Blaise
doesn't either, not pulling back as he deepens the kiss.
We stay like this, time standing still, until finally, he slowly pulls back,
and my senses catch up. Music floods through my ears along with the sound
of people talking.
"Blaise," I murmur, scanning his face.
He smiles down at me. "Our first kiss has been captured."
First?
"Okay everyone. Cake is now being brought around if you can please
return to your seats," the MC announces.
No!
I don't want to let him go.
Blaise carefully unwinds his arms, grabbing my hand as he leads me back
to my table. I sit down, still speechless as he returns to the bridal table,
taking his spot next to Alfie.
Cake is placed in front of me and I look at the square cut of red velvet
cake, the perfect white fondant on one side. Mackenzie turns her attention
away from her other companion, picking up her fork.
"I love cake," she muses.
"I love… cake too," I mutter, trying to clear my head.
 Swallowing, I quickly compose myself, eating my dessert.
There's a few more speeches while we eat, and I can't stop myself from
looking over at Blaise. It's the happiest I've seen him in ages, practically
glowing as he laughs with Alfie.
After dessert, there's more dancing and drinks, until finally it's time to
farewell the bride and groom.
We make our way outside, creating a pathway as servers hand out
sparklers. We light them, the bridal party walking in the middle of the
crowd as we hold them up in the air.
Blaise walks past me with Meredith, grinning at me warmly as he heads
toward the house.
Slowly, people venture off into different directions, some conversing
while others start heading to their cars to go home. I linger around outside,
staring at the stars.
Deciding to check the time, I reach into my purse to retrieve my cell. I
frown, noticing that I have a missed call. It's not often I get calls, so I check
the log, my heart pausing in disbelief.
Jordan tried to call me.
God — I would have given anything for him to have called me before.
And now, he chooses the most inconvenient time to do it.
The Universe sure has a messed up sense of humor.
I stare at the screen, wondering what to do.
What does he want? Why is he reaching out now?
I notice there's also a text message waiting in my inbox. With shaking
hands, I click on it.
Jordan: Hey Firefly. I just wanted to reach out. I really miss you and
have been thinking about everything. Give me a call when you can.
Looking up at the house, I see Blaise's bedroom light turn on, a faint
shadow against the wall as he moves around the room.
It sounds like…
No — I can't do this. Does he want me back? The real question is…
Do I want him back?
Gazing back at my cell, the answer comes to me straight away. I click
into his contact information, hitting the settings button until I find what I'm
looking for.
Block.
 Immediately after, I go into the next screen, hitting the red delete button,
watching as his number and name vanishes off my screen for good.
A sense of release comes over me, and I close my eyes, taking a moment
to process it.
It's done. I'm leaving him in my past where he belongs.
Putting my cell back in my purse, I take a deep breath, before I turn,
heading back to the house.

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter Thirty Eight

I find Blaise in his bedroom, jacket and shoes off, as he sprawls out on the
bed.
"Hi," I mutter fondly, entering the room and closing the door behind me.
He looks up, a smile breaking across his face. "I thought you might have
gotten lost," he laughs.
I shake my head. "I'm definitely not lost anymore."
Blaise looks at me curiously but I just smile back at him, putting my
purse on the computer desk. I notice two glasses of champagne in front of
the computer, and when he catches me staring at them, he stands up,
walking over.
"I thought we could have a drink," he says, picking the two glasses up.
He hands me one, which I take, before he clinks my glass.
I tilt my head, confused. "What are we toasting to?"
He smiles at me, eyes sparkling. "To the new couple."
"Alfie and Lauren?" I laugh.
"No," he replies quickly. "To us."
My lips part at his words. "To our fake relationship?" I ask sheepishly.
Blaise's jaw twitches as he considers his words. "I don't want to have a
fake relationship with you."
"Oh," I mutter, feeling a sharp sting in my chest. "That's okay. It was silly
of me to blurt it out."
 He reaches up with his free hand, cupping the side of my face. "Sky," he
murmurs. "I want you. There's nothing fake about us."
"What?" I gape at him.
"I'm in love with you," he muses, eyes scanning my face for my reaction.
"I have been for a while now."
I freeze, trying to process his words.
He loves me…
My best friend loves me.
"Say something," he whispers, a slight look of panic in his eyes.
Shaking my head, I put my glass down on the computer desk, hands
shaking. "Blaise… are you sure?" I ask wearily, a moment of self-doubt
filling me.
He puts his glass down next to mine, grabbing my face with both hands
now. "Sky, you're my stars in the night sky. My little sin. I love seeing you
every day, waking up to find you there. I love working with you, and going
to sleep knowing you're in the house with me. I love eating pizza with you
and watching movies. Seeing your face when you try to hide behind a
pillow when there's gore on the screen. The way you scrunch your nose up
when you take a shot of tequila or are deep in thought. I love you."
My gaze flicks between his eyes a few times before I lean forward,
smashing my lips into his. He's caught off-guard, stumbling slightly as I
press myself against him. Wrapping his arms around me, he kisses me back,
my heart exploding with an inferno, burning every single past scar that lies
inside of me. And when they turn to ash, he's like a tornado, blowing the
small pieces away so that all that remains is him.
Blaise moves back with me, his knees hitting the bed. He falls onto the
mattress, pulling me with him, our mouths still attached.
Rolling us over, he leans over me, hands in my hair as he heatedly kisses
me. My fingers reach for his shirt, slowly undoing the buttons one by one as
he places gentle kisses along my neck. My hand slips behind his neck,
removing the bowtie before I let it fall next to us.
Kissing down my chest, he runs his hands along the side of my dress as
he slips lower to the end of the bed. Grabbing my feet, he takes his time
loosening the straps of my heels, slipping them off my feet. Carefully, he
puts them on the ground, hand sliding up my calf under my dress.
When he's hovering over me again, his arm snakes under my back, rolling
us again so I'm on top of him. I feel his hands tug at the lace straps at the
back of my dress, slowly untying them. Grabbing my shoulder straps, he
gently pushes them down my arms, and I help him, slipping my arms out.
The dress hangs loosely on my frame, and suddenly, I'm on my back again.
Blaise delicately grabs the bodice of my dress, pulling it down my body.
My heart races as my breasts become visible, then my stomach, leaving
me in just my matching light blue panties. The dress slides off the bed onto
the floor, but neither of us pay it any mind as warm kisses trail a blaze up
my legs.
His mouth finds mine again and I push his open shirt off him, hands
fumbling for his trousers. I unbutton them, pulling the zipper down as he
helps me push them off.
The two of us are left only in our underwear, bodies pressed together as
we kiss ardently.
I'm not scared… or embarrassed.
I feel completely at ease with him, our bodies so familiar already that it's
like this was always where we were meant to end up. It's as if our minds
and bodies work together in tune, reading the other perfectly.
Blaise's hand strokes my thigh, brushing against my panties. I push my
hips into his hand, letting him know I want him too. He smiles against my
lips, hand reaching inside the material to caress my skin. His finger traces
my slit slowly, lips on mine, before he pushes further inside.
When he enters me with his finger, my breath stammers, a small moan
escaping. He smiles against my mouth, gently adding another finger.
The world disappears again, and I'm completely focused on him, his
movements sending waves of pleasure toward my body. He curls his
fingers, pressing into my g-spot which sends me flying into him, my back
arching off the bed.
His thumb circles and presses against my clit as his other fingers rub the
sweet spot, concomitantly sliding in and out.
My eyes squeeze shut as I feel my climax approaching, and I grab his
arms, nails digging in slightly as I brace myself.
"You're safe with me," he whispers against my cheek. "Let it out."
The words tug at me, my world falling apart as the seams of my broken
heart rip open. I cry out, body trembling as I fall over the edge.
I thought I was broken. But turns out I just hadn't found the right person
to fix me.
Sometimes we need to break before we can be rebuilt.
 When I stop shaking, I reach for his boxer briefs, pushing them over his
ass. He kicks them off, resuming his place between my legs as he kisses me
again.
I hook a leg over his back, pulling him as close to me as possible. I feel
his cock pushing into my leg, and I reach down, wrapping my fingers
around him.
He feels perfect.
Stroking him a few times, he groans into my mouth and I guide him
towards my entrance, desperate to feel him. He reaches down, his hand
joining mine, and together we line him up as he starts pushing inside of me.
Slowly, he fills me, the air vacating my lungs as I feel him consume me in
every way possible. He fits perfectly, like we were made for each other.
Blaise grabs my face, pulling back from our kiss to look me in the eye.
He's buried in me completely, not moving, as he takes the moment in.
I stare back at him, eyes heavy with pleasure. "I love you too," I breathe
out, watching as his eyes flash brightly.
He lunges forward, kissing me again fiercely, his hips moving as he starts
rocking in and out.
The two of us move together, hands threaded by my head as we make
love.
We can't get enough of each other, my body no longer needing air so long
as I have him. Sweat coats our bodies, and I feel my stomach start to tighten
again.
I don't need to tell him — he knows.
Just like he knows everything about me.
It's perfect, both of us finding our climax at the same time, little moans
and growls of pleasure mixed together as we fall over the cliff, holding each
other tight.
As we come down from our high, we still refuse to let go, Blaise not
leaving my body. He holds me, whispering little confessions and
compliments in my ear.
Everything is spinning around me, but for once, I don't fall. I'm pulled to
him, stable, like he's the center of gravity. And outside as fireworks go off at
11:59pm, signaling the end of the most magical day, I feel Blaise harden
inside of me, and we make love again.
I'm woken up by soft kisses along my face.
Arms are wrapped tightly around my body again and I groan happily,
wiggling back into the body behind me.
"Good morning, little sin," Blaise murmurs, kissing my lips as I turn my
head toward him.
My eyes slowly open, finding his light brown eyes watching me.
"Good morning," I whisper. "What time is it?"
Blaise shrugs, pressing his lips against my bare shoulder. "Time is
irrelevant because you're here with me."
Smiling, I roll over to face him. "What's the plan for today?"
"Hm," he hums, two fingers walking over the curve of my hip. "First, I'm
going to make love to you. Then I'll go get some coffee. After that, I believe
Mom is organizing a lunch before Alfie and Lauren head off on their
honeymoon."
"Oh," I breathe, caught on the first part of the agenda as his fingers grace
my side. "Where are they going for their honeymoon?"
"The Bahamas," he says, ducking under the blanket. I let out a squeal as
he pushes me onto my back, his hot mouth on my stomach. "And I'm going
Down Under."

We finally make it downstairs, fully dressed in casual clothes.

Mackenzie is in the kitchen, pulling out leftovers from our pre-wedding
dinner and the wedding food.
"Good morning you two," she says warmly to us as we enter.
"Morning Mom," Blaise answers, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
My hair is still damp from my morning shower and I'm thankful none of
them heard us in the bathroom together. Judging by the lack of bodies in the
house, most of the guests have left.
"Where is everyone?" I ask, taking a seat at the table.
"Alfie and Lauren are still asleep. The boys are outside packing the car
for them. I think most of the bridesmaids have gone home," Mackenzie
says, bringing me over some cake. She winks at me, making me laugh.
Cake is almost the answer to everything.
"Do I get cake?" Blaise scoffs playfully.
"Nope," she answers. "It's our special bond."
Blaise looks at me confused, but I shrug, playing coy. He shakes his head,
grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl next to the microwave.
"We'll head off after lunch," he tells his Mom. "I'll wait until Alfie
leaves."
Mackenzie sighs. "And you'll be back soon, right? You can't leave it that
long again."
"I promise I'll be back to visit," he says warmly. "Sky as well."
"Good," Mackenzie replies enthusiastically. "Make sure you keep him in
line, Skylar. That boy works too much."
Blaise throws his arm up. "She works with me too. In fact, I'm her boss."
"Girlfriend trumps employee," I smirk, and he gives me a sharp look,
registering my words.
"That is true," he agrees, grinning at me. "Except during business hours.
Remember: no personal stuff at work."
I snort. I think the ship has sailed on that.
I help Mackenzie set up for lunch, before we all wave goodbye to Alfie
and Lauren as they drive off. When they are gone, I head back to Blaise's
room, packing my stuff. It's strange how much has changed in the last three
days. My mind is still struggling to believe it, but I guess life has a funny
way of working out.
After promising Mackenzie I would be back, Blaise and I set off back
home, the drive a much better one than last time. He holds my hand the
entire time, the two of us relaxed as we pass the sign welcoming us to St.
Devil's Creek.

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 Chapter Thirty Nine

"Oh, my God. Look at all the emails," Blaise groans, staring at his laptop as
he strolls down the hallway.
"Hey! No work until tomorrow," I snap. "You promised me."
Of course after we got home and unpacked, he went straight for the
laptop.
Me? I kind of stood in the living room, staring around at my home. The
home I had lived in for nearly a year. The home I had spent hours and hours
hanging out with Blaise in. The place we had made many memories,
growing closer and closer until…
Until we said we loved each other.
When I left here on Friday, I was a broken down version of myself. It was
like there was a giant hole in the room. Now, I'm here again and the hole is
gone, the wall smoothed out and brand new.
"I know," he grumbles, walking into the living room. "I wasn't going to
respond to any. I just wanted to check what kind of clusterfuck we'd be
walking into tomorrow."
"That's a problem for tomorrow," I murmur.
He looks up, glancing at me curiously. "What are you doing?"
I look away from the wall, smiling at him. "Just thinking about
everything."
 Blaise puts the laptop down on the couch, closing the distance between
us. "Are you okay?"
I nod. "Everything is different now," I tell him. "I can't explain it."
"I understand," he says, wrapping his arms around me and resting his
chin on the top of my head. "It's like you're seeing everything in a whole
new light."
"Exactly," I mumble happily, glad he understands my rambling. "It
worked out just when I thought everything was over."
Blaise laughs softly. "I told you life has a funny way of working out.
When one door closes, another one opens."
"The door was there the whole time," I muse. "You."
He tightens his hold on me. "I guess we both needed to work through our
lessons to come out the other side."
Nodding, I turn around to face him. "Where do we go from here?"
Blaise leans down, kissing me. "We do what we do best. We live."

It's amazing how much you realize you love life when you're not fighting
for survival.
Standing in my bedroom, it registers to me there's still one more piece of
the puzzle I need to finish.
Opening my cell screen, I go into my messages, finding Kaden's name.
My fingers are oddly steady as I start to type out my message. I've already
thought this through, planned out exactly what I need to say.
Me: Hey Kaden. I just wanted to reach out and say thank you for
helping me. I'm glad you were able to provide me with some closure —
though I now realize I didn't need it to begin with. I wanted to let you
know I forgive you. I forgive you for your games and your part in what
happened. I forgive you for the mixed signals and most of all, for my part
in playing into that. But I also realized I needed to forgive myself in order
to move on. I was so focused on holding onto things that I forgot that I
need to live my life. With that being said, I wish you well. I'm giving you
the courtesy of letting you know I'm moving on and I'll be blocking and
deleting all of your numbers. Please don't reach out to me, and if we do
cross paths, please let me be free. All the best. Skylar.
As soon as I hit send, I block and delete him, making sure to do the same
with Jake's details.
I used to think blocking was the coward's way out. In a way it is. But it is
also the door to peace. I trust myself to not reach out — I no longer need to.
The wounds are closed and the scars have faded. But as much as I trust
myself, I know in my heart I can't trust them.
You can't compartmentalize things if you expect to heal. It just sits there,
banging on the door until the pressure smashes it wide open again. I know
they haven't really moved on. I hope they do.
You can forgive and forget, but you don't have to let it go. And I'm not.
I spent too many nights crying, blaming myself for what happened. I
wasted precious hours and days of my life, wondering if I was good
enough.
I am good enough.
I am enough.
They just weren't the people for me. I like to believe that people come
and go for a reason, and once they have fulfilled that reason, it's their time
to leave. We had our time together, I learned my lesson, and now it was
time.
Blaise means so much to me. He was there through it all, holding me at
my worst. He saw me cry over other men, saw me break, and he never ran
away. That's true love.
And it's not even the simple fact that I respect him as my now very real
boyfriend. It's that I need to respect myself. By holding onto my past, it was
keeping me back.
I deserve better.
I deserve to be loved in the way I need and want.
I deserve someone who won't break me.
I deserve someone who will fix me when I can't fix myself.
I deserve it all.
Life is too short to be crying over emotionally unavailable assholes,
begging for the bare minimum. Somewhere out there, there's someone
willing to step in and go above and beyond.
That's Blaise for me.
"Hey, what do you feel like for dinner?"
 Speak of the Devil.
I look up, spotting him at the door. He's leaning against the frame, like
he's done so many times before. Except now he's mine.
"Pizza?" I offer.
He nods. "I'll go order it. While I do that, take your sheets off the bed."
I glance down at my mattress, confused. "Why?"
Blaise smiles at me, like the answer is obvious. "Because I'm moving
your bedding into my room. You're sleeping with me from now on."

Wild hands slide over my body while hot kisses trail over my chest and
neck.
Blaise pushes my thighs apart, humming happily when his fingers find
me ready for him.
The two of us are tangled in his sheets, my pillows under my head. As
soon as we crawled into bed — in my new bedroom — he went crazy.
"I was thinking," he starts, sucking my nipple into his mouth.
"Mmm?" I moan, tugging at his hair.
He pulls back from my chest, fingers sliding into my pussy. "Tomorrow,
we will convert your old room into an office. It will be more fun working in
there than the living room."
I gasp, hips pushing against the palm of his hand. "Is that so?"
"A-huh," he replies, tongue flicking my pink nipple. "Just imagine me
slipping under your desk for a midday snack."
My nails draw pink lines down his back, pulling him closer to me. "Or I
slip under yours," I murmur suggestively.
Blaise groans, and I reach down, grabbing his cock to emphasize my
point — just in case it wasn't blatantly obvious.
"I'll give you a sneak peak," I tease, pushing his shoulder back as I guide
him onto the bed.
He rolls onto his back, watching me with husky eyes. "I'm all yours."
"I know," I muse, kissing his chest as my lips brush over his toned
stomach. "And I'm yours."
 Blaise lets out a little groan and I reach my target, hand grabbing his
length firmly. My lips part, sucking him in as my tongue teases the tip of his
cock.
His hands thread through my hair gently, letting me go at my own pace. I
take my time, savoring the taste of him as I slowly lower my mouth down
his shaft, taking him in.
I could do this all day if it means getting to touch him and listening to the
little sounds of pleasure he makes.
"Fuck, Sky," he grunts. "I love you so much."
I hum on his length, giggling to myself when his thighs twitch underneath
me. Teasing him, I slowly remove him from my mouth, crawling up his
body until I'm straddling him.
His hands find my waist, holding me steady and I reach between us,
gripping his length as I slide down onto him.
We let out a moan in unison as he fills me, my knees lifting to raise and
lower myself. Putting my hands on his chest, I find my balance, increasing
my pace.
Blaise squeezes my hips, guiding me up and down. I roll my hips,
grinding against him, and he throws his head back, groaning as his eyes
close for a second.
"You were made for me," he says in a hushed tone.
I smile. "I love you," I whisper back, rocking my hips against his.
He focuses on my face, locking eyes with me as he reaches down,
drawing circles around my clit.
It completely dazes me, my body stilling as pleasure sweeps through me.
Blaise thrusts up into me, taking over. I'm powerless, perched on top of
him as he spears into me, rubbing my clit as he watches my face intensely.
"Come for me," he begs. "I need to feel you come on me."
Right on cue, my body tenses up, my orgasm hitting me at full speed. As
I start to tighten around him, he thrusts faster and deeper, vigorously
rubbing my clit until I slump forward onto his chest, panting.
He wraps his arms around me tight, holding onto me as he slams up into
me, keeping pace until he groans loudly, finding his own.
Guiding me to the mattress, he moves me onto my side, spooning me
from behind.
I hold his arms as they wrap around me, the two of us relaxing as we
come down from our highs.
 "So, office tomorrow and a ton of emails," I muse quietly. "Sounds like
we have it all worked out."
Blaise nods against my shoulder blade. "I've already ordered the desks
while you tidied up after dinner."
I turn my head to glance over my shoulder. "That's sneaky."
"I have no intention of letting you leave my bed," he laughs. "So, for the
sake of our old knees, we need some proper ergonomic equipment.
Especially since I think business is about to get hectic."
"It worked out well then," I laugh. "The fake relationship was also good
for business."
Blaise nuzzles into my shoulder, reaching down to lift my leg up. "Mmm.
I guess so."
"What are you doing?" I moan as I feel his hard cock pressing against my
pussy again.
"You didn't think I was finished with you, did you?" he says, sliding into
me. "Oh, little sin. I'm not done with you yet. Not by a long shot."

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 Chapter Forty

** Six Months Later **

Blaise was right when he said the business was about to get busy. Right
after the wedding, we landed a handful of new clients, including Amon and
Partners Law Firm, and the town's biggest accounting firm, Typhon
Financial. Both companies wanted us to run their systems and be their
external IT support full time. With the extra growth, it only meant one
thing.
We needed a bigger space.
And more staff members.
My little former bedroom wasn't able to accommodate more than two of
us so the business purchased an office space downtown, and to make sure
we kept our promise to Mackenzie, we hired a new staff member. And then
another.
And a few more.
Now that we had staff, I was promoted to Business Manager, looking
after all the day to day functions of the business, setting up meetings, taking
instructions from new client enquiries, and dealing with staff inductions and
schedules. It was a full-time job, but now that we had other staff working
for us, it meant Blaise and I could work normal hours.
Following that, the hot water system blew in our house, so Blaise and I
sat down to discuss what to do. The landlord was no help and it turns out
that Blaise had saved enough for a deposit on a house. Many arguments
followed — mainly on my part — but after some negotiating, I agreed to
purchase a house with him — just as long as my boss gave me a pay raise
so I could contribute to the mortgage payments. If I was going to be on the
title, I was going to do my part.
Shortly after we signed the deed and moved in, I took Blaise to meet my
family. Surprisingly, my father loved him. I mean, he's not hard to love at
all. But it helped that Blaise told my Dad that he would protect me at all
costs. He even gifted my father matching balaclavas, telling him that if they
ever needed to go rogue on someone, he was prepared.
My Mom, of course, adored Blaise. And while we were there, we held
Uncle Logie's celebration of life. It turns out there was one more surprise
waiting for me.
That sneaky angel left me part of his inheritance — gifting half to me,
and half to my Mom to share with Dad. I hate knowing I had money
because I had to lose someone I love, but knowing he was still looking after
me meant a lot. Especially with my newfound financial responsibilities.
Having my own money from a source separate from Blaise's business meant
I didn't feel as guilty about things.
We made sure to regularly travel to see our families, even organizing for
my parents to join us at Mackenzie's house. So here we were, seeing our
two families together for the first time. I can't express it but it's up there as
one of the most heart warming feelings. What was even more special was
seeing Alfie and Lauren, my eyes immediately spotting her small,
protruding stomach. Apparently what happens in the Bahamas… comes
home with you.
"I'll need to come see your new house," Mackenzie says looking at Alfie.
"And yours," she beams at Blaise.
"Did he talk you into a theater room?" Lauren whispers to me.
I laugh, giving her a nod. "We have a theater room too."
"I knew it!" she exclaims, while Alfie fist-bumps Blaise.
"Good man," he says. "I'll be over soon for a movie night."
Blaise nods, wrapping his arm around my waist. "You'll have to come see
the office too. Sky just finished decorating both."
"Oh, I didn't know you liked interior design," my Mom mumbles,
surprised. "You obviously got it from me and not your father."
Dad looks up from a mouthful of potatoes, stunned. "I'm a handyman."
 "I had some inspiration," I say, looking at Blaise with a smile.
He gives me a wink, kissing my cheek.
After lunch, we head home, my eyes admiring our garden as we walk up
the steps to our two-story house. Neat, trimmed rose bushes line the front of
the house, the red standing out against the freshly painted white wood.
We open the front door and I walk in, heading for the living room down
the end of the hallway. It's an open spaced area at the back of the house, the
whole far wall nothing but windows which look out over the creek. Turning
around as Blaise follows me in, my eyes gaze up at the large picture
hanging on our wall above a fireplace.
It's my inspiration for our house.
The one thing I search for every morning when I wake, and every night
before I go to sleep upstairs.
It's us.
In a large mahogany frame, our picture hangs on the wall — our first
kiss, captured forever in time.
"I love that photo," Blaise murmurs, standing next to me to stare at it.
"It's my favorite," I reply.
I lean my head on his shoulder, the two of us staring at the picture until
finally, Blaise turns around suddenly, throwing me over his shoulders.
I let out a squeal as he carries me toward the stairs, dragging me up to our
bedroom.
"We're recreating that night right now," he laughs, eyes sparkling with
mischief, slamming the door behind us when we enter the bedroom.
Sometimes I still struggle to believe everything. One minute my life
looked hopeless, the next, I was living my dream life.
I finally had everything I had ever wanted.
My lesson, my solution, my redemption, my soulmate… was right in
front of me the entire time.
I got burned with the others, but with him, I went down in a fiery Blaise
of Glory.
Finally, it made sense, the pieces falling into place. It was right there all
along. It was him — the one I could always rely on.
I should have known all too well.
THE END.

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 Afterword

Dear Reader,
This page is for you.
For all of you who cried, were lied to, were led on, got cheated on, and
got hurt by the Jordan Harding, Jake Whittaker and Kaden Parkers of
the world… this is for you.
Say their name right here.
And then… let them go.
As you close this book, end that chapter — because you deserve better.
You deserve to be loved properly, above the bare minimum.
You deserve the world.
And just know I'm by your side.
Together we're a force to be reckoned with.
I love you.
Steph xx

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 Follow The Author

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 Other Books by Steph Macca

DANCE WITH MY DEMONS SERIES

(Unhinged, Echoes)
THE LIES WE KEEP SERIES
(Vicious Games, Pretty Savages, Recklessly Damaged, Sweet Anarchy)
THE BLACK SPADES SERIES
(King of Spades, Queen of Fire, Aces and Ashes, The Hunter)
THE CHRONICLES OF MAXWELL DUET
(A Day of Ruin, A Day of Chaos)
MIDNIGHT PSYCHOS TRILOGY
(Ruthless Savages, Ruthless Redemption, Ruthless Reign)
WICKEDLY SWEET
RAYNE
SLEIGH
BEAUTIFUL DECEPTIONS & SWEET MISERIES
ANATOMY OF A KILLER

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 Deadly Sinners Collection

Other books in the Deadly Sinners Collection coming soon:

PRIDE
GREED
WRATH
ENVY
GLUTTONY
SLOTH

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