He flashes me a cheeky smile. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Hal hands me my phone, and I put it back in its zip pocket. Realizing I should probably head out, I collect my helmet from Rook with a soft thanks.
When I reach my bike and get on it, I see Hal standing in front of the handlebars. “Thanks for your help, Hal. And thanks for the discount. It helps a lot, honestly.”
While I have enough money to buy the bike, I’m still a bit more cash strapped than I’d like to be. But for starting over completely six months ago, I think I’m doing pretty well for myself.
“Yeah, no problem.” Hal shoves his hand through his unruly brown hair as he rocks back on his heels. “So, you wanna go on a ride with us?”
A startled laugh bubbles up, but I know better than to try to ride with liter bikes. “Thanks for the offer. But we all know you guys are gonna smoke me on my lil 600. Plus, I’ve still got work I have to finish up tonight.”
Working for myself means I have a lot of freedom, but it also often means unpredictable and long hours. I’ve already spent too much time at the dealership as it is.
Hal pouts a little before giving me a genuine smile. “Well, if you ever do want to ride together, you have my number. I promise to not go too much faster than you. And if you have any problems or questions with the bike, shoot me a text, okay?”
“I can do that,” I agree before putting on my helmet and gloves. “I’ll see you around, Hal.”
“See you around, wild girl.”
Once Hal backs up, I shut my visor and turn on my music. “Turn out fine” by Henrik starts playing as I carefully pull out of the dealership, trying my hardest not to embarrass myself in front Hal, Rook, and Azrael.
As I ride home, I can’t get the three men who make me wish things were different off my mind.
CHAPTER 4
LARK
“No, you didn’t ask for it to include pine trees the first time. In fact, you specified you didn’t want any plants in the logo,” I hiss at my laptop screen in exasperation.
This is the third revision I’ve done for this client, and I’m losing my already limited patience. That, plus the fact that I’m talking to inanimate objects, means I should probably call it a day.
Charlie’s going to be here any minute anyway.
After I quickly send an email agreeing to do the revisions, I shut my laptop with more force than necessary. Most days, I enjoy being a freelance graphic designer. Today, however, work has felt like a never-ending chore.
Part of that is probably how preoccupied I’ve been with the three men I met last night. Hal, Rook, and Azrael have consumed my thoughts for the past twenty-four hours, making it hard to focus on work.
Like they’d even want a piece of work like you. What could you possibly offer them that another woman can’t?
As much as I try to remind myself that what she says isn’t true, it’s hard to refute statements I agree with.
I don’t have much to offer them or any man, really.
I’m not rich, well-connected, or stunningly beautiful. I’m not unattractive, with my dark reddish brown hair and emerald eyes contrasting with my pale skin. However, my lack of dramatic curves makes my body nothing to write home about. Andrew made sure to remind me of that as often as he could.
Sighing as thoughts of him and them try to creep in, I do my best to push them away. Avoiding difficult memories is probably counterproductive, but it’s what allows me to get through every day.
Maybe one day I’ll be strong enough to deal with it all.
Standing up, I stretch out my tight muscles from sitting at my desk in the living room all day. My one-bedroom apartment doesn’t have space for a dedicated office, but I don’t mind. The small table is unobtrusive next to my charcoal sofa, and I have a view of the forest at the back of the complex while I work.
I pad on quiet feet across the living room to the kitchen. My parents would be appalled that I’m living in such a low-class apartment, with its vinyl floors, laminate countertops, and worn carpet. But that only makes me like my little home even more.
And the best part about it is that it’s all mine. No one else paid for it, so no one else has any say in what I do here. I haven’t ever had that freedom before. Now that I have, there’s no way I’ll ever go back.
Grabbing a green plastic cup out of the chipped white cabinets, I turn on the slightly tarnished steel faucet and fill it up. As I’m chugging it down, the lock on my front door begins to turn before flying open.
My best friend Charlotte, or Charlie, as she prefers to be called, barrels through the doorway. Her naturally wavy, sun-bleached blonde hair is untamed, and her ocean-blue eyes are filled with mischief as she bounds over to me.
