MILLIE
Lying on my pillow, I look up at the ceiling, watching it for a long moment. Tonight was a long night at work. My muscles ache, but at the same time, my mind is spinning when I should be too exhausted to stay awake.
Axton.
He was really there.
Inside me.
It was the best and worst moment of my life. The best because it was him, finally. After a decade of thinking about a moment like that, it happened, and it was better than anything I could have ever imagined, and I’d imagined it a lot over the years.
It was the worst because I know it can’t happen again. I cannot be with him again. Not like that. If I do, I’m going to fall in love with him, and I really cannot afford that in the slightest.
In truth, I never fell out of love with him. I probably never will, either. Axton Colter is and will always be the love of my life. Until my dying breath. And that makes me a complete and total masochist, because I slept with him—knowing there isn’t going to be anything more than that.
My heart wants it, though, even if my head knows it’s stupid as hell.
CHAPTER NINE
MILLIE
The knockon my door causes my spine to straighten and goose bumps to break out over my skin. I’m pretty sure that mobsters don’t knock, so even if my body is on high alert, I think I’m fairly confident in the fact that it’s not anyone looking for me like that, at least not yet.
I’m sure they will find me, though. I just don’t know when. At this point, it’s all a waiting game. They are going to find me eventually. I shiver at the thought of what will happen to me when they do. I can only hope that Axton will help me out when that happens.
I walk over to the door and look through the peephole before I answer. I’m not sure who I expect to see on the other side of the door, but it isn’t who is actually standing there. It’s someone I don’t think I could have ever anticipated darkening my door.
Twisting the knob, I gently pull open the door to find her standing in front of me. I don’t move out of the doorway or invite her inside. Instead, I stand stock-still, my eyes on hers, andstare. Arching a brow, I cross my arms over my chest and tilt my head to the side.
“I know I’m probably the last person on earth you’d want to see, but Piggy gave me your address and… I wanted to talk to you.”
“So talk,” I grind out.
“You’re really going to make me talk to you in the hallway?”
I should. She doesn’t deserve to come inside my home. She doesn’t deserve to sit on my comfortable sofa. She doesn’t deserve to be in my presence. Really, this conversation should be happening by a trash bin, because that’s about what she deserves.
Instead, against all better judgment inside my own body, I step to the side and allow the bitch to enter my safe place. I fucking hate her. I really don’t think she has the right to demand or even ask anything of me, but I’m going to humor her, mostly because I don’t want to start anything.
It’s been a decade. I should get over it, but I’m not sure I ever will. Closing the door behind me, I close my eyes slowly, inhaling through my nose and letting it out my mouth quietly, before I reopen my eyes and turn around to face her.
Daisy stands in front of me in her signature short shorts. Daisy Dukes. That’s what they all call her down there at their clubhouse. I hate the name almost as much as I hate her. I would never give her the satisfaction of knowing just how much I dislike her.
“I never told Piggy that you called all those years ago,” she begins.
Pressing my lips together, I wait for her to continue. She obviously wants a reaction, but she’s not going to get it—not from me. So I wait for whatever it is she’s going to spit out. Whatever it is she thinks I just must know.
“I told you the truth. I didn’t lie to you, but I didn’t have to say it the way I did. I was jealous of you, of the way Piggy felt about you. And at the time, I thought that maybe someone would want to make me their old lady. I was young. Immature. Ridiculous.”
Daisy stands in front of me, wringing her hands together as she shifts her weight from side to side. I hate that she’s so pretty. I want to hate her and think of her as an ugly troll. But I don’t and I can’t, so I stay silent.
“I should have told him, and I shouldn’t have said anything to you.”
Rolling my lips a few times, I uncross my arms and let them hang by my sides as I stare at her. Ten years ago, she made sure she told me exactly who Axton was doing and how often, not to mention how much he loved it.
I knew deep down that it was the truth. I also knew that she was being catty about it. I deserved it. I know I did, and I still do. We were eighteen at the time and thought we knew everything. We didn’t know shit—still don’t.
“You told me the truth,” I state.
