2. We're Even

Shirley POV

"Take it back?" I let out a sharp, mocking laugh.

"Three years of pain, and you think one sentence can rewind time?"

My throat tightened, tears threatening to spill.

For him, I'd endured everything—his fiancée's cruelty, the loss of my child, nearly bleeding to death alone on a freezing street after a miscarriage.

And now he thought he could just erase it with a simple ‘sorry'?

"I'm sorry, Shirley. For everything," he said quietly.

I sniffed, holding my chin high.

"Then pay up. You look like you can afford it."

His gaze darkened. He stared at me for a long moment, then my phone buzzed. The money had arrived.

Before I could check the amount, Josh's name flashed on the screen.

"Shirley, how did it go?" His voice was warm, grounding.

"It's done. Didn't let them raise the price," I answered, my throat unexpectedly tight.

"What's wrong? Did someone give you trouble?" Josh asked gently.

My nose stung. Damn it. I was really about to cry.

"It's nothing. Some asshole hit me with his car. My leg hurts," I muttered.

Josh chuckled softly. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have made you go. I'll pick up something good to eat on my way back."

His voice wrapped around me like a blanket. I swallowed hard.

"Josh… come back soon," I whispered.

"I'm on the first flight tomorrow," he promised.

When I hung up, Connor was still standing there. I shot him a glare and turned to leave.

He followed close behind.

"Boyfriend? Husband?"

I ignored him, quickening my pace despite the pain.

He caught my wrist. "You're not wearing a ring. You're not married, are you?"

"Let go, you creep!" I yanked my hand back.

"Remember," I hissed, "we ended three years ago. One bank card, clean break. You meddle again, and I'll slap you."

I raised my hand to show him I meant it.

His eyes dimmed.

"Shirley… I am really sorry for what happened back then."

"I don't accept expired apologies," I snapped.

"The money's in. We're even."

He moved to stop me. "Have you been okay lately, Shirley?"

"You don't need to know."

I strode for the exit, tears slipping down my cheeks.

Rain was still coming down in sheets when I pushed through the glass doors.

I glanced over my shoulder, Connor was right behind me.

I frowned. I pulled my purse over my head and dashed into the downpour.

The clothes that had barely dried were instantly soaked again.

By the time I slid into my car, water dripped from my hair, my shirt clung to my skin, and a sharp pain shot through my lower back.

"Ugh—shit!" I couldn't hold back the groan as I sank against the seat, barely moving.

Hang in there, I prayed silently. Don't you dare break down now.

I should've asked Connor for more money.

God knows if I actually broke a bone, I didn't have the cash for a hospital.

I turned the key.

The engine coughed, sputtered... then died completely.

"Perfect," I muttered, slamming the steering wheel and raking my fingers through my wet hair.

Eighteen-year-old secondhand junk. If this car gave up now, I was screwed.

A soft knock on the window startled me.

Connor stood outside, holding a large black umbrella, looking far too composed for someone who'd caused this mess.

I rolled the window down a crack.

"Come with me," he said evenly. "Unless you'd rather be stranded all night."

"No thanks."

"You won't get a cab in this weather. Not at this hour."

Damn it. He was right. And tomorrow I had work.

I hated that logic was on his side.

With a frustrated sigh, I grabbed my bag and stepped under his umbrella.

We walked side by side through the storm, just like we used to three years ago.

The woodsy scent of his cologne mixed with the rain, and suddenly, memories I'd buried deep clawed their way back to the surface.

In those last months before we broke up, he'd been restless, agitated, always lost in thought.

"Connor, is something wrong?" I asked him, wrapping my arms around his waist.

He'd given me that stiff smile. "Nothing, baby."

I'd pressed closer, kissing the spot just beneath his ear, whispering naughty promises until his breathing turned ragged.

"Connor, tell me you want me..." I whispered, the words hot against his jaw.

"No, Shirley. Not now." His chest was rising and falling too quickly.

"Why not? I know you will..."

My fingers slipped beneath his shirt, tracing the taut ridges of his chiseled chest, nails grazing the heated skin.

And I felt his cock swell thick and insistent against my belly, pulsing with raw need.

I giggled, breathy and teasing, but he snapped—his strong hands pinning me to the couch, mouth crashing onto mine in a devouring kiss, tongue plunging deep, tasting my surrender.

He ripped my thighs apart, his rigid length, veined and throbbing, driving into my slick, aching core with a brutal thrust, stretching me wide, filling every quivering inch.

All that pent-up fire between us erupted, rough, frantic, bodies slick with sweat, hips slamming in desperate rhythm, his growls mingling with my moans as he claimed me, utterly, savagely mine.

In those moments, there was no thought, no doubt, and no contract.

There was only the rough urgency of skin on skin, the tight, desperate friction.

He was governed purely by instinct, and in that raw, primal coupling, he was just mine.

He was just mine.

God. Why was I remembering this now?

I blinked the memory away as Connor opened the door of his new car—a sleek, expensive model I didn't recognize.

Three years ago, he'd driven a beat-up secondhand sedan, always worrying about repair bills.

Now he had a driver.

I took a deep breath, ignoring the dull ache in my back, and climbed in. A small sound of pain escaped me anyway.

He reached out instinctively to help, and I shot him a glare, shrinking away to the farthest edge of the seat.

The A/C blew cold air over my soaked clothes, making me shiver.

I wrapped my arms around myself, eyes fixed on the rain-smeared window.

"Where to?" he asked.

"137 Briarview Road. Maple Court."

He hesitated.

"Why are you living there?"

I kept my gaze on the storm outside.

"Is that a problem?"

Briarview had a reputation—run-down, poor, unsafe.

But I was broke. I didn't have the luxury of caring about reputations.

He watched me in silence, like he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.

After a moment, he reached over and turned off the rear A/C.

My jaw unclenched. It wasn't warm, but at least it wasn't freezing anymore.

His voice broke the silence.

"You're still wearing that bracelet?"

My stomach dropped.

I glanced down at my wrist.

The bracelet. The one he'd given me.

Damn it. I forgot to take it off.