Sweet Temptation

A low, long groan erupts from my throat.

She’s too sexy. It hurts to look at it, but I can’t stop. She’s too bloody far away. Why, why, why? My hands shake as I type.

OH GOD.

I stare. I type. What r u doing to me??

I am gobsmacked. I can’t believe u took a pic.

I stare. I cram my hand into my hair and pull. CANNOT STOP STARING.

Too much sexy. I can’t even . . . Just wait little vixen.

I fall over on the couch. F me. Ur so fn hot.

I think I might die here, a lump of lust. Ur in serious trouble when I see u again.

I stare. Serious. Trouble. I curl into a ball of pain and die.

A moment later my mobile chirps in my dead hand. I open it with trepidation. Thankfully it’s only words, and not more skin I’m not able to touch.

Baby steps for your nerdy girl, she writes.

The girl clearly underestimates the power of her bum and a seductively minimal pose.

Nerdy my arse, I type back. All the cold showers in the world can’t cure what u’ve done to me.

Cruel wife.

Sorry, she says, but I can see her smiling in my mind.

U r not. Leave me alone. I’ll b busy 4 a bit.

Cold showers . . . not again. I want to cry. But then a horrible thought occurs—I hope she doesn’t think I’m truly angry. I quickly type out another message.

PS . . . ilu.

ilu2, she says.

I catch myself smiling and shake my head. Sap.

Then, as much as I hate to do it, I delete each message one by one. When I get to the photo, I take one last long stare, groan deeply, and delete it. Then I trudge heavily to the loo, all by my lonesome, where I might die again. Sexting is dangerous business. I don’t recommend it.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

One-Track Mind

“The only heaven I’ll be sent to

Is when I’m alone with you.”

—“Take Me to Church” by Hozier

I’m at a bar with my bandmates at midnight, nursing a Jack and Coke and dodging pitiful looks from the blokes who think I’m broken up over Father’s death.

Honestly, I’ve been a bit of a disaster ever since the picture text from A

I keep thinking about our wedding night. We had less than twelve hours together, and yet it’s given me three days’ worth of nonstop memories. It feels as if I’m living in a fog of A

Shite, I think I’m obsessed with my wife. I want to hide her away and keep her all to myself, always. That’s psychotic thinking, even by my low standards.

Oy, that damn picture.

My mobile buzzes in my pocket, sending my heart into race mode, as it always does these days. I dig it out and hold my breath when I see it’s a text from A

Book a flight to Va tmrw.

Right. I don’t think A

With pleasure, I type. U ok? It’s been insane here.

Here too, she says. Lots to tell.

Hm. I wonder what she’s been up to. Hopefully no visits from unwanted Neph. My neck goes hot with irritation thinking about other Neph hunting her down.

She texts me with an address in Riner, Virginia, and I book my flight for the following morning. All joking aside, I hope she’s all right.

And I hope she’s naked.

The fog of A

Bum side up.

Yeah. I’m pretty sure I spent a good part of the day making everyone uncomfortable as I stalked A

I’m just glad my head is semi-clear when her father shows that afternoon—in the body of the famous rapper who’d been hospitalized days ago, no less. Big Rotty. As far as Duke blunders go, this one is fucking brilliant. If I weren’t still so afraid of the bastard, I would’ve laughed my arse off. Then, before he leaves, he puts his hands on my shoulders and says, “You take care of my girl, you hear me?”

It’s still strange to hear him say things like this. To have his approval.

And now, here we are at two in the morning, snuggling in the twin bed of A

Fu

A

A

Dreams . . . This is dangerous territory for me. I know I’m lucky to have this moment, and all the moments that led up to this one. To wish for a future? It feels like tempting fate. Nothing except this very second is guaranteed. But for A

“Tell me your dreams for us, sweet A

She snuggles closer to my chest. “It starts with us defeating the Dukes. We survive and they’re gone.” I peer around the dark room as she talks. “We can do whatever we want with our lives. I know you love music, so I figure you’ll still work in the industry in some way. When I finish college, I want to be a social worker. I’d be able to gauge the danger kids are in better than a human would, since I can see their emotions. I’ll be able to rescue children from bad situations.”

I immediately think of Marissa’s nieces, and how A

“I can picture that,” I whisper. I move the hair off A

“We could live wherever you wanted,” she goes on. “Patti would probably follow us. After a few years of working, we could think about adopting. I know Patti would just die to babysit while we work.”

Er . . . “Wow. Kids.”

“Yeah,” she says dreamily. “Like five or six.”

“Five or six? You’re a nutter!” I have to laugh at the thought of little Kaidans-in-training. “One boy. Maybe two boys, but even that’s pushing it.”

Shite, she’s got me entertaining this ridiculous notion.

“We have to have girls, too!” Her voice is filled with happiness, but again the thought of Marissa’s nieces flashes through my mind, and all the girls I’ve hurt. All the daughters and sisters and future mums I helped lead down paths they may or may not have been able to find their way back from.