Mag-log in—•TRISTAN•—Am I dreaming right now?I freeze, staring at the man standing at the bottom of the stairs, and my stomach drops so violently it feels like I’ve been punched.He looks older. The boyish softness around his jaw has been replaced by something leaner, more angular.But those eyes...Those piercing blue eyes are exactly the same.Eyes I never thought I'd see again.And now he's standing in June's house.Why the fuck is he here?My pulse hammers against my temples. I can feel my composure cracking, the mask I wear so carefully slipping just slightly.I grip the armrest of this disgusting chair, fingers digging into the worn fabric beside a mysterious stain, and force myself to breathe. In. Out. Just like my therapist taught me. Just like I've practiced for years.It doesn't fucking work."Is someone going to answer me?" June's voice cuts through the static in my head.I drag my gaze toward her. She's looking between us, her brow furrowed and her pretty pink lips pursed in confu
~*JUNE*~Turns out five days away from work wasn't nearly enough time to recover from almost having sex with Mr. Macaulay.Not that I'd planned to stay away that long.At first, I told myself I'd only skip one day of work. Just twenty-four hours to get a grip, to bury the memory of his hands on me deep enough that I could walk into the office without my pulse going haywire.But one day turned into two. Two became three.Before I know it, it's day five, and I still can't bring myself to face him.Every time I think about walking through those office doors, I remember the way he looked at me that day, the way I completely lost myself in the moment.Shame, embarrassment, and something far more dangerous instantly tangle together inside me, keeping me as far away from him as possible.And now...He's standing on my doorstep.My fingers tighten around the doorknob until my knuckles turn white. My knees threaten mutiny, and the floor beneath my feet suddenly feels about as stable as a boat
~*JUNE*~Curse me for believing Andrew wouldn't spam me after I gave him my number.For days, the fucker has been terrorizing my phone. Nonstop. Text after text after text, each one more desperate and unhinged than the last.The moment I block one number, he pops up with another. I block that one too, and then another appears, like some demonic game of whack-a-mole I never signed up for.Andrew doesn't just give up. That's not in his DNA.He'll keep spamming me until he gets what he wants—and I haven't the faintest idea what that is.At this point, I'm morbidly curious what he actually wants, because knowing him, this "I miss you" bullshit in his texts is a blatant lie.There's a hidden agenda behind it.Something I can't pinpoint.And honestly? I don't want to find out what it is.My life already has enough drama circling it like vultures over a carcass.The last thing I need is Andrew piling his own brand of chaos on top of it."You're skipping work again today?" Tyler asks, droppin
~*JUNE*~I take two instinctive steps backward, my footing unsteady on the uneven concrete, but I manage to catch my balance just in time to keep from tripping over my own feet."June." Andrew's face breaks into a wide smile, his eyes locking onto mine like he didn't just nearly run me over."What the hell, Andrew?" I snap. "You almost hit me with your fucking car! Are you trying to kill me?"His smile falters. "I’m so sorry, June. It was an accident." He rounds the front of the car and quickly closes the distance between us. "I really am sorry.""Keep your apology. I don’t want it."I turn on my heel and start walking away without another glance, but he's faster.He steps directly into my path, forcing me to a sudden halt.I glare at him, and he raises his hands in surrender, cautious and slow, as though he's approaching a frightened animal."June... I—""What do you want from me, Andrew?" The words snap out of me like a whip crack, cutting him off."I just want to talk to you.""I ma
~*JUNE*~What the fuck did I just do?I almost had sex with Mr. Macaulay.My freaking boss.And if Mark hadn't walked in, I would've let him—I would've let him bend me over his desk and fuck me.Fan-fucking-tastic, June.Your self-control and dignity have officially resigned and vacated the premises.Fuck. I'm doomed.How on earth am I supposed to face him after this?How do I just act like everything is normal?How do I sit at my desk, answer his calls, and hand him his morning coffee like I didn't just have his tongue in my mouth, his hands on my skin, and his teeth scraped against my throat?The sound of Mr. Macaulay’s office door opening sends my heart leaping into my throat.My pulse kicks into overdrive, hammering so hard I can feel it throbbing in my temples.I turn just in time to see Mark step out.The moment he spots me, something in his expression changes.His brows knit together, and he fixes me with a long, unnerving look that feels fa
—•TRISTAN•—Let all hell break loose, because I’m coming through like a fucking hurricane.What the fuck?Did June actually just say that?Did she really just call me daddy?Bloody hell.That single word sounds so obscenely, devastatingly sexy falling from her lips that my brain completely stalls out.Did I just imagine it?Did my desperate, depraved mind just conjure up that word?No. It didn't.Because if my brain made that up—if it just decided to torture me by inventing that word I've been wanting her to say to me again ever since that night we met—I’d probably need to check myself into a psychiatric ward.Except I didn't imagine it.I fucking heard that sweet, breathless little word slip from her soft lips and bury itself deep in the darkest part of my soul.And now I'm ruined. Properly, thoroughly, irreversibly ruined.Because I want to hear it again. And again. And again.God. I want her to say it until it's the only word I ever remember hearing.I'd happily drown in that one w
~*JUNE*~“Can you go a little faster?” I ask the cab driver, voice low as I grip the edge of the seat.“Sure,” he says, and presses the accelerator a little harder.I glance at my watch. 7:45.My heart hammers as I check it again. 7:46.That’s what I’ve been doing since I got into this cab—checking
~*JUNE*~I know I sound crazy for asking a complete stranger to fuck me.But I don’t give a damn.Right now? I'm acting on instinct.Pure, drunken, angry, heartbroken instinct.I pull back to stare at his face, and he’s still.Completely still.His grey eyes hold my honey brown ones, unblinking.He
~*JUNE*~If I say breaking up with Andrew didn't hurt, I’m lying.Because this shit hurts like hell.I press my palms against my eyes, trying to push the tears back in, but they won’t listen.They keep falling, hot and relentless, carving dark tracks through the mascara running down my face.I bite
~*JUNE*~I spin on my stool so fast I almost topple over.“Where is he?” I ask, feeling my heart lurch in my chest.“Over there,” Tyler says, pointing toward the VIP booth.My eyes follow his finger, and the world seems to slow, the music fading into a dull roar.Andrew and Maddie come into view, ba







