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“Because he’s a player. He’ll use her and then lose her. I’ve seen him do it a million times.”

“Exactly. He’s not the relationship type.” Nora leans forward. “He’ll grow tired of her quickly and then move on to the next one. And then you’ll be able to shoot your shot.”

“But…” I hang my head. I have no argument. There’s just some caveman instinct in me that wants to keep Thea to myself. I don’t want to be her consolation prize after she spends the night with Wick. It’s shallow and petty, but I can’t control how I feel. “I don’t have any means of connecting with her even if he does dump her. I didn’t get her number or anything. And I have no idea if she’ll ever return to Jade. She was only here because Twistr brought her.”

Nora raises an eyebrow. “Come on, Aus.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you recognize her from the news?”

I widen my eyes. Shit. Yes, she mentioned she was a meteorologist for some news channel. Which one was it?

“She’s on ChicagO2 news.”

I frown. “So? I can’t exactly climb through my TV and see her.”

Nora pinches the bridge of her nose. “No. But you can figure out where she films. And what her hours are. I assume you’re capable of doing a simple Google search. Or will I have to hold your hand through that as well?”

I chuckle. Nora is good at assuming the “tough-love” mom voice when she needs to. One of the reasons I love her so much.

“Okay, so I…what? Just stalk her at work?”

“Find a pretext for being there. A nearby coffee shop or something. Bump into her as she leaves. Pretty simple. You’ll be able to pick up where you left off. Easy as pie.”

A tiny glimmer of hope pierces the storm clouds in my heart. Maybe Nora’s right. Maybe I can course correct, steer Thea back into my arms.

But one problem still remains.

I can’t get the image of Wick fucking her out of my damned head.

13

THEA

I have no idea what was in that martini, but the euphoria blazing through me is second to none. I don’t think I could stop smiling if I tried. I want to stay in this forever.

We arrive at Wick’s place. It’s a townhome in a sketchy neighborhood. The paint on its exterior is chipping, several tiles on the roof are missing, and gutters are hanging loose. A rusty chain-link fence lines the property. Wick parks us in a driveway riddled with tiny cracks.

“Home sweet home,” he growls.

Despite our surroundings, I get out of the car without even looking. I just need this man—any man—inside me right now. I don’t think I’ve ever been this hot and bothered. I’m surprised I didn’t leave a puddle on the passenger seat in Wick’s car.

I follow him up to his front door, squeezing his ass on the way. He’s got a smart lock on his house, and he puts in a code. One-two-nine-zero-two.

Must be someone’s birthday. The twenty-ninth of January, 2002. Or 1902, I suppose. Maybe Wick has a great-great-grandpa born on that day.

I couldn’t actually give a fuck. I’m just so unbelievably horny that I’m homing in on Wick’s hands as they open the door to the building where he will fuck me until my brains are leaking out of my ears.

Wick opens the door and flops down onto a worn-out black sofa. He beckons me to join him. “Get in, gorgeous. The water’s fine.”

I practically jump on top of him and continue making out with him. He grabs my right boob, thumbing the nipple through my bra. I grope his cock through his pants.

I’m about to breathe out the word “bedroom” in his ear when⁠—

A flash of Aus Waverly zips through my mind.

No. Not now.