Standing in the middle of the salon, grinning at me like a maniac, is the boy who disappeared with my heart when he lost his mind. The Original Sinner himself. Bi-colored eyes twinkle with mirth. A slow, devious smirk unfurls on his lips.
“We meet again, church girl.”
Forty-Eight
SEBA
A Few HoursEarlier
I flickthe butt of my cigarette out of the truck’s window. It’s too damn hot to keep it rolled down. By the heatwaves shimmering off the pavement, I’d guess the real-feel is closer to a buck twenty. In other words, a shitty day for this shitty habit.
As soon as the glass slots in place, I crank up the AC and fidget with my playlist again. Not that I can hear much over the rumbling plane engines. Speaking of planes— his should be at the gate by now.
Tremors start in my fingers, working up my hands.
The saliva in my mouth turns gummy.
I’ve waited over four years for this day. Now that it’s here… I’m second-guessing my decision. Maybe I should’ve let Declan pick him up. What if he refuses to get in the car? This was a mistake. What the hell am I doing?
The tinted doors of the terminal open and suddenly, nothing else in the world exists.
It’s him.
It’s really him.
Cade.
Silvery blonde hair glows in the afternoon sun, the breeze tousling the longer strands on top. Even in an oversized tee and baggy jeans, I can tell he’s lean but no longer rail-thin. He pauses at the curb, adjusting a duffel on his shoulder, his corded arm flexing as he clutches the strap.
He looks around. Checks his phone. Frowns.
Molten sparks rain on the barren wasteland beneath my skin, igniting a wildfire. I shift into drive and cut across to two lanes, adrenaline and anticipation spiking my pulse.
His attention locks on the truck.
If I weren’t a selfish bastard, I would’ve let his dad do this.
But Iama selfish bastard and he’s finally within reach.
I roll down the window?—
Tonka and musk.
Waves of nostalgia wash over me. The hardened organ in my chestaches, its limp beat echoing off the walls of my hollow chest. I crave the shape and weight of his body. His breath on my lips. His eyes, his eyes, hiseyes. God, I missed those eyes.
A pair of mirrored lenses shields them from me.
Take them off. I want to see you.
We’re caught in a pocket of time— the present paused while the past stretches between us. His throat bobs. Then his jaw clenches.
“Dad was supposed to get me.”
Ice. Cold.
Expecting his detached tone and experiencing it are two completely different things.
“I offered.” I nod at his duffel. “Is that your only bag?”
