Page 3 of Tempted By Shadow

“Pretty sure you were insufferable before I left.”

“She’s back.” He throws an arm around my shoulders and steers me toward the kitchen. “King, she’s back, and she still hates me. Everything is right in the world.”

It’s like I never left. That’s the thing that gets me. I was gone for two years, I made every wrong decision I could have made, and they’re acting like I just stepped out for coffee. No judgment. No questions. Just the same easy chaos I grew up in.

I eat whatever Rogue puts in front of me — some kind of chili that’s actually not terrible — and let the conversation wash over me. Demi asks careful questions about what I’ve been doing. Bella, Rogue’s girlfriend, tells me about the coffee shop downtown that’s hiring.

By the end of the night, King’s called in some favors and found me an apartment.

It’s small. It’s cheap. The carpet’s seen better decades and the water pressure is probably a joke. There’s a stain on the kitchen ceiling that looks vaguely like a map of Texas, and the window in the bedroom doesn’t lock right — I’ll have to stuff a towel in it until I can figure out a fix.

But it’s mine. Not Tyler’s. Not King’s. Mine.

I stand in the middle of my new living room at eleven PM with boxes stacked around me and absolutely no idea what I’m supposed to do next.

Start over, I guess.

The thought should be exciting. Fresh start. Clean slate. All those inspirational bullshit phrases people put on motivational posters.

Instead it just feels exhausting. Heavy in a way that makes my bones ache.

I unpack enough to find sheets for the bed. Stock the fridge with the basics King’s guys dropped off — milk, eggs, bread, cheese, a carton of orange juice someone thought to include. Enough to survive on until I can get myself sorted. I find my phone charger at the bottom of a box marked “RANDOM SHIT” and plug it into the outlet by the bed.

Then I lie in my new apartment, in my old city, and stare at the ceiling.

What the fuck am I supposed to do now?

Get a job. That’s step one. Bella mentioned the coffee shop. I can pour coffee. I can smile at people and pretend I don’t want to crawl out of my own skin. It’s not like I have a lot of options here.

Build something. Step two. Something that’s mine, that can’t be taken away, that doesn’t depend on a man or a club or anyone else.

Stop being the woman who follows losers to Vegas and ends up broke and alone in a borrowed apartment.

That’s the actual goal, isn’t it? Stop being me. Become someone who makes better choices.

I close my eyes and try to let sleep pull me under. But my brain won’t stop spinning, won’t stop replaying every bad decision that led me here.

And somewhere in the middle of all that self-recrimination, I think about him.

The prospect. Sleeves rolled up. Dark eyes sharp and startled when I threw that line at him.

The way his jaw tightened like he were fighting himself.

The way I felt him watching me all the way to the door.

I shove the thought away. I don’t need that. I don’t need another man to complicate my life, especially not one of my brother’s prospects. That would be the stupidest possible decision I could make right now, and I’ve made a lot of stupid decisions. I’m supposed to be learning from my mistakes, not finding new and creative ways to repeat them.

But as I finally drift off, it’s not Tyler I’m thinking about.

It’s that prospect, and the look on his face when our eyes met.

Like he’d just seen something he couldn’t look away from.

Like I was trouble walking straight toward him.

Which, I guess, is exactly what I am.

CHAPTER 2