“And if they stare? Gasp? Whisper?” My voice cracked on the last word.
“I’ll tell them two truths and one lie.”
I blinked. “What?”
He didn’t hesitate.
“One: love at first embrace.”
“Two: forever caught in the eyes of a wolf, bitten and marked.”
“Three: you’re knee-deep addicted to peach iced tea.”
A laugh tore out of me unwilling, messy, embarrassingly loud.
“Really?”
He grinned. “That last one’s why I call you Peach. You drink a disturbing amount. Figured your lips must taste like it.”
My smile stuttered, softened, struggled to stay. “I’m okay, Dane. It just… scares me. Blake only shows up to hurt me.”
“Then don’t let him.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“It is,” he said quietly. “Just think of me instead.”
His hand slid up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. Then he did it the thing that made the world inhale:
He kissed me.
Soft. Barely there.
A brush of lips like a promise he wasn’t sure I was ready to hold.
He pulled back with a wicked curve of his mouth.
“I gotta go. Mail to deliver. Hearts to break.”
He winked.
“Apparently, mail guys are top-tier office fantasies. Right up there with pool boys and watercooler dudes.”
Then he sauntered off, whistling like he hadn’t just stitched my ribcage together thread by thread.
I turned my chair toward the shadows. Away from the glass. Away from the goddamn daylight judging me.
The envelope sat heavy in my hands. Blake’s scrawl burned through the paper like acid.
Before I opened it, my phone buzzed.
Ping.
The dating app.
A message.
From Blake.
