I blink up at her, momentarily disoriented. “Uh… inventory?”
She snorts, shaking her head. “Yeah, right. Come on, Sleeping Beauty. Break’s over. We’ve got a bus full of seniors pulling up.”
I groan, hauling myself to my feet. My body protests, muscles stiff from the awkward position. “Shit-fuck… Alright, I’m coming.”
As I’m about to step out of this cramped hellhole, my phone buzzes again.Fuck me, what now?I yank it out of my pocket, ready to tell John to go fuck himself with a rusty fork, but the name on the screen stops me cold.
Sophia.
My stomach does a weird flip.Shit. A video call from Hawaii? She’s probably just checking in, wanting to make sure I’m okay. Or maybe she wants to share some news about her new baby girl. Knowing Sophia, she’s more worried about me than excited about her own life.
Christ, I can’t deal with this right now.
Sophia’s too good, too kind. She doesn’t need to see the mess I’ve become. And I sure as hell don’t need another reminder of how far apart our lives have drifted.
My thumb hovers over the screen. Part of me wants to answer, to see a friendly face that isn’t covered in grease or puke. But then I catch a glimpse of myself in the reflection of a nearby mop bucket. Hair a mess, shadows under my eyes, looking like I’ve been rode hard and put away wet.
Nah, fuck that. I can’t let her see me like this.
The phone keeps buzzing, insistent as hell. I know Sophia. She’s probably just worried, wants to check in. Maybe even offer to “help out”again. The thought makes me want to puke.
No fucking way am I dragging her into this shitshow. She got out, made something of herself. Last thing she needs is to get pulled back into the cesspool that is my life.
I hit decline, shoving the phone back in my pocket like it’s burning a hole through my jeans.
Sorry, Soph, I’ll get back to you when I’m in a better place… which might be never.
Guilt gnaws at my gut, but I push it down. It’s better this way. For both of us.
“Wren! Those dentures ain’t gonna serve themselves!” Joe’s bellow cuts through my internal shitstorm.
Right.
Reality check.
I’ve got a diner full of hungry seniors waiting, and this pity party ain’t paying the bills.
I take a deep breath, straighten my shoulders, and plaster on my best “fuck you” smile. Time to go earn my keep.
12
Dimitri
Isink into the ice bath, the freezing water shocking my system, sucking the breath from me.
Blyat, it’s cold enough to freeze my balls off.
Good. Maybe it’ll finally kill this fucking hard-on I’ve been sporting since last night.
The mansion’s dead quiet, just the hum of the filtration system and the occasional crack of ice. Used to be Erik and Luka would be here trading jabs and throwing punches. Now it’s just me and my fucked-up thoughts.
I close my eyes, trying to focus on the cold, but all I can see is Wren. Her lips on mine, her body pressed against me in that filthy alley. The taste of her, like smoke and sin.
“Yob tvoyu mat’,” I growl, dunking my head under the water. The cold bites at my face, but it’s not enough to erase the memory of her pussy grinding against my cock.
I surface with a gasp, water cascading down my face. What the fuck is wrong with me? One kiss, and I’m acting like a horny teenager who can’t control his fucking dick.
Mudak!
