Текст книги "The Bad Boy Arrangement"

Автор книги: Nora Flite

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

How would that roughness feel on my skin?

He'd whispered in my ear before, touched me, rubbed close... but not once had I felt the scrape of his five o'clock shadow.

A bruise-colored heart pulsed on his jugular, dangling knuckles stamped in diamonds. It was funny. He'd been all over me earlier, but I'd been entirely too wrapped up in my battling emotions to catalog him so well.

I'm doing it now because—why? Eyeing the way his belt clung to his hips, I shivered. Because I know when he loses, he's going to look nothing like this ever again.

Shrapnel would pummel Huck into puree.

Nehro shouted, voice booming over the roar. “Shrapnel versus Huxton! Betting is closed, folks. Standard rules, no weapons...” He looked right at me. “And no mercy.”

There was a second where time stood still. I felt it, debated the things I could or could not do. Leaping into the ring would have been heroic. Foolish. It would seal my future.

It could save his.

Maybe, after I died and met my maker, they would consider that I'd at least thought about stopping this massacre. I didn't deserve that kind of consideration, though. There was no salvation for fuck-ups like me; in this world, or the next.

A bell rang, stopping my white knight dreams in their tracks. Shrapnel spit on the ground, fists held high by his square jaw. He'd never met Huck, but it was obvious to everyone that this new fighter in our ring hadn't come prepared. Who fought in jeans and boots, who didn't at least wrap their hands or put on gloves?

I'd have given him some, if I'd had any. I owned no gear that would fit him. I owned... nothing. Increasingly nothing, not even my own life.

Nehro held that in his spidery fingers.

The men studied each other as they circled. Huck's steps were fluid, slow, and never moving closer. He kept a constant gap between them.

Shrapnel was eager to get in that space.

Everyone screamed—delight for most, panic for me—when Shrapnel leapt forward. He propelled himself, a living projectile. A ham-sized fist sought out Huck's beautiful, unfairly handsome face.

I'd known this would go bad. I hadn't expected this bad, or so fast, but—fuck. I was a worse monster than Nehro. I'd put Huck in front of a god damn train, waved my hand and said Good luck!

I deserved what was going to happen to me.

Every molecule in the air vibrated expectantly. Huck's face, against all odds, didn't explode into fragmented red. Faster than seemed possible, he ducked low and rolled away. That alone had my mouth falling open. But he wasn't done.

Spinning on his knees, Huck threw his arms out and tackled Shrapnel around his thighs. The thick man toppled over, grunting in disbelief. With the upper hand, Huck wrenched a shoulder back and crushed his knuckles straight into his opponent's temple.

A hush lulled the crowd. It hung a mere second, then resurfaced as a tornado of cheers and fucking barking. They weren't human, they were animals.

Liquid pride flooded me. Holy shit! Cupping my palms around my mouth, I joined in the noise. Huck's jacket and shirt came along for the ride, his essence sinking through my nose and into my brain. My lungs thrummed with pure excitement. It wasn't possible. This wasn't possible.

But it was happening.

He was winning...

I was winning.

Not wanting to look away from the fight, Nehro still caught my eye on the opposite end of the pit. There was no disguising the horrific tilt to his tight lips. His entire aura smoldered, a nuclear flare that begged to leave me in ruin.

That man, he hated what was happening—hated that I was slipping away.

I lifted my head and gave him the biggest smile I could.

Shrapnel growled, shoulders rippling. More bear than human, he tore at Huck and threw him to the side. Wincing, Huck skidded to a halt on his knees. Those green eyes flashed, looking past Shrapnel—right at me.

My heart burrowed down into my stomach.

I wanted to scream, “Don't watch me, watch him!” I'd lost my voice, hands making a megaphone that I never used. What was Huck doing? He had to get up, Shrapnel was going to cave his brains in!

The giant man's skull gleamed in the overhead lights. He grinned, teeth crimson from his own blood. For the second time, he spat on the gritty floor.

Unlike Huck, Shrapnel never took his eyes off his target. He'd been meant to fight my ex. If that had happened, he would have lost. Reese, for all his flaws, was an expert fighter.

Now, facing down someone like Huck, Shrapnel was cocky. He was going to win, that realization gleamed in his dish-water eyes.

In a rush, air returned to my lungs. I pushed it out and up, begged my tongue to do something useful. “Huck!” I screamed, tearing at my vocal cords. I needed to be heard over the blood thirsty shouts. “Look out! Move!”

That stupid fucking grin of his. He'd die with it so firmly on his face.

Shrapnel rammed forward, reaching for Huxton. Slippery lightening, Huck darted aside at the last second. The momentum sent the other man flying, falling into the cement. A rabid animal, yet somehow entirely in control, my fighter—my fighter—jumped onto the broad back of his enemy.

Tattooed arms wound tight, sinking into Shrapnel's trunk-like throat from behind. The raspy gag as the man choked for air ricocheted around the ring. People pumped their fists, no longer obvious in who they cheered for.

I realized I was digging my nails into my palms. Shaking, I forced my fingers to unclench. I couldn't make my stomach do the same.

Sweat glistened along Huxton's spine. Every fiber flexed, I could count each of them. I did it, just to keep myself focused. They popped along his shoulders and forearms. Under him, Shrapnel strained... and in a great wave, went entirely limp.

It was happening for real. Huck had done it.

We'd really won.

My ears rang with the new roars of adrenaline. Howling, they became wolves under a full moon. Everyone was jumping, shoving, clapping or scowling. Money did funny things to people. So did violence.

Pushing through the mess, I darted over the chalk outline just as Huck let Shrapnel go. The big man was still, mouth open and drooling blood. He'd be fine. This was probably one of the least messy fights Shrapnel had come out of.

“Huck,” I gasped, reaching out for him instinctively. I needed to know he was really okay, and that... that he didn't hate me for getting him into this.

Turning, he looked down and met my eyes. There was nothing even close to hate there. Not anger, not disgust. Emeralds watched me, glowing like Huck had eaten the sun and replaced his blood with it.

Dammit. The bastard had my heart pumping again.

Grinning crookedly, he said, “Are there more of them?”

I blinked. “More what?”

“Men I need to tear down for you.” His eyebrows drifted low, shining with the dampness of his sweat. I forgot how words even worked.

Footsteps came to us, men bending down to drag Shrapnel away. They'd patch him up, make sure he was fine. It was doubtful he'd go to a hospital. Nehro had people he could pay that were almost as good as real doctors. Involving actual hospitals put the ring at risk.

Nehro liked to gamble... but he was too smart for risks.

Thinking about the long-limbed man, I glanced around. Nehro was gone, no where to be seen. That was more than fucking fine. My match was done, I wanted to get out of here. I avoided Nehro like the plague when I could.

“Well?” Huck asked, rolling his neck, testing the muscles. “The fights. Are they over?”

Shaking myself, I stared back up at him. Oh. Right. That whole thing.

Clearing my throat, I motioned for the stairwell. “They aren't done, but for you they are.” Handing him his jacket and shirt, I regretfully watched him hide himself under the clothing. “Let's go, you could use some air.”

And so could I.

– Chapter Three -

Huxton

What the hell was wrong with me.

My fingers—the fingers that had curled their way so happily around my phone when her fucking call came—were aching. I'd hit Shrapnel so hard, I wondered if my whole hand would be swollen tomorrow.

It wasn't the pain that bothered me.

It was my reason for allowing it to happen.

Zoe had asked for my help. I mean, god, when I'd heard her breathless voice my insides had flipped around. When she hadn't returned for her party, Eliza had drank with me then sent me on my way, ranting about her roommate and her weird actions.

Sure, I'd been disappointed. Zoe had gotten me so hard my cock could have snapped in two. I'd almost asked Eliza for her number, but I'd held off. I hated looking desperate.

So... when that red-head with her fluttering lashes and little lies had reached out to me...

I'd lost it.

Really, I should have told her I wasn't driving anywhere without more details. She'd given me enough that logically, I should have hung up. Should have rolled over in my bed and gone back to jerking off and waiting for one of my clients to call me. I'd needed to fuck, not to drive out into an unknown alley for an impromptu fight.

None of it made sense. But I'd done it.

And now that I was standing there, next to this intriguing woman in the cold air of a Hollywood December night...

I regretted none of it.

Zoe hugged herself, jacket pulled to her chin. The dress she wore wasn't keeping her legs warm, apples blooming on her pale cheeks. There were no stars to be seen, the light pollution of the city hid them away. But when this girl looked up at me, teeth chattering, I saw bursts of color in her crystal-blue eyes.

She nodded her chin. “Nice bike, by the way. How fast does it go?”

Glancing at my Harley, I pushed my tongue against my teeth. “Pretty fast. Fast enough to get me here in the nick of time, it sounds like.”

Darting her eyes to the ground, then to the side, she spoke under her breath. “Sorry, I should be thanking you.”

A strand of her copper hair flew loose. I craved to tuck it behind her ear. “Then why aren't you?”

Her eyes widened, strangely accusing. “Asking you to come here was selfish of me. I'm not stupid, though. Thanking you isn't good enough. You could have gotten really hurt in there.”

“But I didn't.” Cocking my head, I shrugged with a smile. “You called me, I showed up. I tend to do that when I hear a pretty voice begging so nicely.”

Fuck, I craved the blush that danced over her cheeks. I wanted to turn every bit of her hot and red. She asked, “How much?”

“How much for what?”

Digging into her purse, Zoe slid out a crumpled piece of paper. I didn't recognize it as my card until she smoothed it. “Muscle for hire. How much do I owe you?”

A thanks isn't enough. Now I understood. She wanted to pay me. It was weird, but I hadn't even thought about money. This was so unlike any job I'd taken before. It wasn't a house-call, it wasn't sex or strutting. It was sort of like the times I went with a girl when she was fucking a John and needed to make sure he didn't hurt or rob her.

Still... even that wasn't the same.

Rubbing my cheek, I watched Zoe's plump pink mouth tug down at the edges. She didn't like my silence. I wanted to see into her skull, gather up her private thoughts and worries. Instead, I moved closer to her. Those blue eyes twitched a hair wider. “How much do you think I should charge?”

“More than I have on hand.” Sighing, she handed my card to me. I didn't take it. “Just tell me a number. I'll do my best to pay it off.”

Purposefully, I slid my hands into my pockets. “Keep the card, you'll need it to call me again.”

“I'm not going to call you again.”

Arching an eyebrow, I stared at the rusty door of the building. Below our feet, according to Zoe, men were still fighting. “How can you know for sure?”

Again, she stabbed at me with the card. “I'll find someone else for next time.”

Tension burned into my teeth. I openly gawked at her, both of us understanding what she'd just let slip. I'd been implying she'd call me in a perverse way, for something fun and wet and wild.

Zoe's head had been elsewhere.

“Next time? There's a next time?” I growled. Her hands drifted down to her hips, then went up defensively as I lurched closer. “Zoe, what the hell is this place?”

Her hair whipped as she shook it. “Forget about it! It's not a big deal.”

“It's a big enough deal that you had to beg me, a stranger, to come here and help you.” The pain in my knuckles pulsed. I was putting pieces together at breakneck speeds. “You needed me to fight in there... but even though I won, you don't think you'll have enough money to pay me for my time. If Dracula back there isn't paying you or me for the fight, then why are you even here?”

She backed up, hitting my bike. My card fluttered to the ground. The motorcycle kept her from escaping, but there wasn't fear in her eyes. She was swelling with pride. Stupid, bitter pride. “It's none of your fucking business, okay? Tell me a number, then we'll both go home. You can forget any of this happened.”

As if that was possible. “Zoe, I don't want money. I don't need it, I made bank at your birthday party earlier.” Plenty of private dances from hungry girls. “What I want is fucking answers.”

Her glare was fierce. I think she was trying to set me on fire with her mind. “My party, right. You said it already, you're just a stranger.” The side of her neck pulsed and rippled. “I don't want to give you answers. I want to know what I owe you so I can go home and just let this night be over with.”

Gazing down at her, I loomed so that my shadow turned her sapphire irises into onyx. “Until the next time, right? Until you have to find another guy to come here and fight in some crazy, no rules fist-fight?” Zoe had the grace to flinch. “Who did I replace tonight?”

Her lips went bloodless, clamped to keep her from talking.

Putting my hands on my bike, on either sides of her hips, I boxed her in. She flared her nostrils. In spite of the tension, this ridiculous woman—she was drawn to me. I couldn't judge, I could feel my own heart thudding in every one of my ribs.

“Zoe, tell me what this is. I'm not going to leave you alone until I understand.” Thinking about how she'd been so edgy about the money, I pressed on. “You don't have to pay me, I don't want anything from you. Okay?”

Her chest inflated with air. It came close to touching mine. “Everyone wants something. I'm not naïve enough to think you're different.” Breaking our staring contest, she gazed out into the evening. “If I tell you, you promise to let me leave?”

I'd become a barrier to her escape. I hadn't planned to, but with the promise of answers so near, I inched my hips forward and nudged against her body. Zoe flinched, snapping her face back to mine. “Let me be clear. I prefer a girl wanting to stay near me.” My smile was slow to grow. “But if holding you hostage is necessary, I'll do it. Tell me what's really going on here... and I'll send you back home to your castle, princess.”

Breathing in sharply, she rolled her attention from my lips to my eyes, then back again. She kept throwing me for loops. One second she was a foaming animal, the next she was fluttering and filling me with heat.

What made Zoe struggle so hard against herself?

As if someone had cracked a raw egg over her scalp, she quivered and locked up. I had her pressed on the motorcycle, but she didn't push me away. “You're pretty determined, huh?” she whispered.

“When I want something, I always get it.”

Flushing up her throat, she took my meaning the way I wanted her to. “Alright. Okay. I'll tell you the deal. You're such a pain in my side.” Slumping, Zoe was a puppet whose strings had just been cut. “My ex—Reese—was supposed to fight tonight. He's always done it for me, since the beginning. He didn't appreciate how I blew off his advances tonight, though, so he stomped off like a pissy child.”

Zoe breathed out, the air tickling over my throat. I could smell her, as if her emotions had a scent. Smoke, apples, and salt. I wanted to lick her and see if the aroma would change. I said, “He left, so you called me. Why not just walk away, why did you need someone to fight in there?”

Tiny, fragile, her smile had no heart in it. “My 'boss' has expectations. I'll be blunt, I owe him a lot of money.” She eyed me, daring me to probe further. I just waited, letting her speak at her own pace. “Because of my contract with him, I'm working off that debt by bringing a fighter to these events. It makes him money, it gets me closer to being solvent, everyone is happy.”

Except she was clearly not happy. Sighing, I backed up, air surging into the space between us. Zoe wrinkled her forehead, perhaps confused by how suddenly I'd ended our locked-horns. “Okay. Thanks for the history lesson.”

“What, that's it?” Hesitating, she chewed her bottom lip. “You're really satisfied?”

“Satisfied?” Chuckling, I ran fingers through my hair. My joints still tingled from the punch I'd thrown at Shrapnel. “I'm entirely unsatisfied, Zoe. But I understand the situation better.”

Opening her mouth, she imitated a goldfish. I had the impression she was about to say more. In the end, she crossed her arms and studied me. Neither of us moved, the wind tugging at our hair.

She looked cold, but her voice held firm; no chattering here. “Then we're good? You really don't want anything from me for coming out here tonight?”

I wanted a lot from her. I wanted more than I dared to say. The breeze ripped at her dress, lifting it high and exposing a swatch of her creamy skin. The surge of heat in my lower belly ran down, waking my cock. “You don't owe me anything.”

It was comical, how twisted up her lips became. “...Thank you.”

Grinning, I swung my leg over my bike. “Thank me by letting me give you a ride home. You're clearly freezing.”

“It's not that cold,” she said, but her knees shook as she moved around me. I was going to help her on, but with a practiced motion, she hopped onto the seat with ease. This girl was constantly shocking me.

I wasn't her first lap-dance, she works for an underground fighting ring, and she's clearly been on a motorcycle before. Oh, and she has an ex. An ex with a 'pissy' temper who brawls in a place like this.

Next time I saw Eliza, I'd pry more information from my old friend's lips and learn what Zoe was all about. Who she was, what motivated her...

What I had to do to get between her legs.

Actually, I sort of am right now. Chuckling, I wrapped my hand back, yanking her closer to me. On reflex, her arms wove around my chest, clinging tight. Through my leather jacket I bathed in her warmth, her being.

It wasn't sex, but it was better than nothing.

– Chapter Four -

Zoe

The city looked and felt different when you were whipping through it. No car or subway could make traveling feel like flying, not here. LA was the king of traffic jams. Even in the late hours, when people were just starting their bar-crawls or ending them, the roads were stuffed. Speed was a mere dream.

But not now. Not with the metal monster screaming between my thighs.

I hadn't ridden a bike in over a month. Reese had let me ride behind him—just like this—when we'd dated.

I refused to share anything with that asshole ever again.

Huck turned sharply, throwing me against his broad middle. Clinging so tight I worried I would snap his ribs, I ducked my forehead behind his shoulder. The cold air was invigorating, but it burned the tip of my nose.

Is this okay? My skin on his jacket, my arms holding him in a vice... I was doing exactly what I'd promised myself I wouldn't. He was amazing in there tonight. Fast, powerful.

Magnetic.

Shuddering, I clenched my eyes shut. But Reese was, too, and I know how that ended. Huck was too similar to my ex. The epitome of what made my thighs shiver. That fucking desire, though, it had screwed me over. Huxton was everything I did not need in my life. I'd been hurt, I was paying for my bad judgment—my stupid decision to believe in a man who had back-stabbed me.

When cocky assholes didn't get what they wanted from you, they abandoned you.

Huck was the same breed.

He said he didn't want anything from me.

The memory of him, standing so close and crushing me against his Harley... it was heart stopping. I ached to believe him. Wouldn't that be amazing, a bad boy who was altruistic?

Impossible.

Huck was sweet with words, sweeter with his smiles and wicked eyes. I had to learn to tell the difference between my intuition and the heat that melted my pussy. Lust wasn't the meter to judge people by. It couldn't be.

Even if that would make everything so much simpler.

The bike shifted fast; I clutched on, gasping. Through the leather that brushed my skin and tickled me with its strong scent, there was a rhythm. A soft, but wild beat that pushed into my chest and matched my own.

His heartbeat. It became my focus.

I wanted to keep my eyes closed, to just listen and feel him. As long as we rode, we could exist in this simple bubble and I wouldn't need to worry about tomorrow. Not an hour from now, not days or weeks. No future fights... no worries about Nehro or how much Huck was threatening to break my logic into tiny pieces.

Here, I could hug him and pretend this was it. This was my life.

But no. My life wasn't simple and it certainly wasn't this.

I didn't live far, I'd purposefully looked for an apartment near the fighting ring after I'd split with Reese. No car, no ex's motorcycle, I needed an easy path to the subway to reach a destination I'd be stuck with for the next ten years, minimum.

Eliza's ad for a roommate had been serendipitous.

Now, I sort of hated how fast we rumbled down the quiet street, slowing in front of the familiar house. The Christmas lights blinked, waving at me mockingly. Yes, hello, I mused to myself. Merry Christmas. Go fuck yourself.

The engine died abruptly, telling me the dream was over. “We're here,” Huck said, twisting to watch me. Like water, I spilled away from him, creating as much distance as I could on that bike seat.

His heat radiated over my arms and stomach. I felt him, praying the sensation would linger until I could slide into my bed and take care of the pressure in my lower belly. Yeah, I hated how much I hungered for this trouble-maker, but I was only human. Huck had excited me at my party, he'd driven me higher at the Dog House. The ride home had cinched it.

Hate him or not, he'd haunt me until I got myself off.

Maybe even beyond that.

Whatever. It was my own head, it didn't have the same risk as actually doing something with the man in front of me.

Blankets and familiar fingers were safe.

Lonely.

Huck was staring at me expectantly. I sat up, adjusted my jacket. “Right. Thanks for the ride.”

“My pleasure.”

I think he meant it. At least, I wanted him to.

Stop it, Zoe. Stop being crazy. Swallowing the lump that had crystallized in my throat, I slid off the motorcycle. My legs were numb, I moved too fast. Stumbling, I grabbed for the rear tire to steady my balance.

Huxton caught me first, one strong arm around my middle to keep me standing. “Easy there. You alright?”

“I'm fine, really.” His fingers dug into my hip. Shit, okay, I was too aware of each solid fingertip. I was not fine at all. “Just lost my balance.”

His grin slid high on one corner. “If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were drunk.”

In a sense, I was. He fogged my brain and stole my strength, how different was that from overdosing on alcohol?

More fiercely than I needed to, I pulled out of his grip. He let me go, and I knew he let me go. He was more than capable of holding me where he wanted. His muscles were iron and stone.

Forcing my nerves to behave, I stared him in the eye. “Thanks for tonight. All of it. If you hadn't shown up, I would have been...” Fucking Nehro or whoever else he demanded. Spreading my legs to pay off that fucking loan. “In trouble.” I couldn't say the truth. It wasn't Huck's problem, and I had no plans to change that.

“Everyone gets into trouble.” Shrugging, he searched in his pocket. I didn't see his other hand coming. His reach was long, he managed to catch me by the wrist and pull me to him from where he sat on the bike.

The speed left me disoriented. His palm was silk, its strength undeniable. I bumped his knee, my focus rolling upward. I'd never met someone with eyes so green. The black centers tugged at me, whispered for me to get lost in them and never break free.

Okay. This was going to be a problem.

This was why I had to get away from Huck.

But I didn't. Not right then. Instead, I hung on like a fly trapped in a web and waited for whatever he was about to do. I won't pretend I didn't stare at his lips, those teasing teeth that had touched me on Eliza's bed.

I knew how his cock felt, sliding over my cunt. I knew that. Eliza's gift to me had been a curse. I couldn't let myself be around this man. He'd wear me down, and eventually, leave me broken. Used.

Forgotten.

And it was a sign of how fucking pathetic I was that, knowing all of this, I still waited with bated breath for him to finish what he'd started.

Lifting my wrist, he pressed something cool and flat into my palm. When I twitched but didn't react further, he closed my fingers around it. “Here, you left the other one back in that alley.”

Blinking, I opened my hand and stared at the new, crisp business card. Huck's card. “I told you,” I whispered, wishing my voice was stronger. “I'm not calling you for help again.”

“What you call me for is up to you.” Bending close, he tapped the surface of the card. “I do more than just fight muscle-bound men. Personally, I prefer wrestling with sweeter things.”

Withdrawing his hand, he brushed his fingers over my wrist so lightly it had to be intentional. The buttery tingles he left in his wake shook me to my core.

I was dazed and sluggish, until an electric jolt went to my brain and warned me what I was thinking. I want to kiss him. I looked from his lips to his eyes. Oh god, he wants to kiss me, too.

Fuck. No. I couldn't do this. It'd be too easy. Ruining my already fragile future should never be so easy.

With every fiber arguing against me, I stepped backwards. Huck didn't flinch, but the glow in his stare smoldered away. “I—okay. Alright. I need to go.” Unsure what else to do, I lifted my arm and gave a lame wave.

Furrowing his brow, Huxton mimicked me. His smile stretched like an elastic. “Good night, Zoe. See you soon.”

See you soon. Why did he sound so sure of that? Saying nothing, I spun around and walked like a zombie to the front door. I fit in better with Halloween, as pale and hollow-eyed as I was. The Santa on the door beamed at me. I almost ripped it off.

It took everything I had not to look back. I couldn't do it. If I saw him or how he was watching me, I'd crumble. Fuck. I was pathetic.

Jingling the door open, I escaped into the protection of the house. I had walls between me and him; real, actual walls.

Leaning on the door, I took a giant breath and slid to the floor. My knees went to my chest, my skull tapping against the wood behind me. I was free, and still, I felt trapped.

What is wrong with me? I was as bad as the people who kept playing the lottery until they went broke, hoping one day they wouldn't waste their money, that they'd hit the jackpot. I'd spent my whole life throwing myself away. Guy after guy, so many wild adventures and draining men.

It was what I'd always been drawn to.

It was no better than a gambling addiction.

Not once had one of these guys—for all their sexy smiles or confident boasts—been good for me. They'd stolen a part of my soul with every encounter.

Why, knowing that, did I expect Huck to be different?

Yup. I'm stupid and crazy. This confirms it. Sitting up, I went to smooth my hair. In my hand, I found the sharp corner of his card.

Lifting it high, I read the words and stifled a bitter laugh.

Muscle for hire. Yet, he kept implying he'd like to do more for me than violently swipe aside a man in a ring.

Frowning, I turned the little rectangle, looked at every side of it. Huxton was a stripper, but the card didn't say that. Not openly.

How had Eliza known, then?

Buzzing with wonder, I pushed myself to my feet. Hanging my coat and purse up, I tip-toed down the hall to my bedroom. I didn't want to wake Eliza, even if I had questions. I was too tired to deal with her scolding me about not coming back for my birthday party.

In a way, it wasn't like I'd made her waste her money. She'd wanted me to be entertained by Huck. Well, I'd spent a good chunk of my night with him.

Wasn't that sort of close, at least in spirit?

Shutting my door, I fell onto my bed with a giant groan. Face first, not looking, I kicked my shoes off. They thumped to the floor, bouncing away. The blanket was cool on my forehead. That was good, because my head was so hot I was sure I was running a fever.

This had been a very long day for me. My heart had rattled around uneasily when Eliza had organized the party. I wanted to get away from alcohol and loud music and bad decisions. She'd just wanted to lift my spirits.

I'd appreciated the effort. After leaving Reese, I'd depressingly realized that I was left with no friends. He'd been all I had, I'd gotten so wrapped up in him and his bullshit—and mine.

His friends had remained just that; his. I'd been alone.

Eliza was sweet, and also too good at prying information from me. When checking out the house in my rental hunt, she'd sat me down, poured me a drink—ignoring my protests—and insisted that she get to know me.

She'd claimed it was all routine roommate stuff. Five drinks in, and I'd spilled the beans about Reese. I'm a sloppy drunk. I'm not proud of it.

Maybe she sympathized, maybe she could relate. I still wasn't sure where her giant heart came from. That day, she'd offered me the room and lowered the rent so that my paltry waitress job would let me live here.

LA was expensive, it drained my funds constantly. I'd have left if I could have. Frankly, between what I owed to Nehro and what I could barely make on my own, escape was impossible.

But money wasn't the only reason.

Money had gotten me in trouble. It was my guilt that kept me locked in this place.

Sighing, I shoved the bitter thoughts aside. I'd been in this mindset too long, too many nights. My life sucked, it wasn't new to me.