Maybe this isn’t recklessness.
Maybe it’s maturity in its rawest, messiest form. The kind that doesn’t come from doing everything right—but from finally daring to do something wrong.
I’m not throwing out my values. I’m just…making my own bed.
And Thor?
He’s going to show me how tomess it up.
Chills break over my skin.
“You want it, you got it,” Daphne says, giving me a wink as she grabs her purse. “Just promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“That you’ve got me on speed dial in case things go sideways. And youwilldrop your location the minute you step into that field.”
I roll my eyes, tucking my phone into my bag. “I’ll be fine. I know what I’m getting into.”
She smirks, that sly glint in her eye back in full force. “Do you?”
I open my mouth to argue—and then close it.
Because… she’s not wrong.
My cheeks warm as I think about the limited roster of men I’ve been with. About how “spontaneous” used to mean staying out past eleven.
This?
This is something else entirely.
And ready or not…
I’m going.
* * *
Forty-five minutes later,I’m pulling into a dirt lot on the outskirts of Vansborough, staring at a black semi-truck parked beneath a lone floodlight.
Okay. Maybe Daphne’s not completely wrong. This does havesomemurder podcast energy.
I park, get out, and climb the steps to the truck’s cab. The door creaks as I open it.
There, resting on the driver’s seat, is a bouquet of bluebonnets and a folded piece of paper that says,Read me.
A smile breaks across my face.
I step inside, close the door behind me, and open the curtain to the back of the truck. It's dark, almost pitch black, so I use the flashlight on my phone to scan the small sleeping area. The bed is freshly made, surprisingly neat, with a folded note and a pen resting on the pillow.
I pick it up and read:
Hi, Goddess.
Thank you for filling out this brief questionnaire. Please complete all steps and check yes or no to the following questions:
Step One:
Are you ready to be mine tonight?
