MOMENTS IN INK

A MONTGOMERY INK: BOULDER

ROMANCE

CARRIE ANN RYAN

CONTENTS

Moments in Ink
Moments in Ink

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Epilogue

A Note from Carrie Ann Ryan
About the Author
Also from Carrie Ann Ryan

MO ME N T S I N I N K

A Montgomery Ink: Colorado Boulder Romance

Carrie Ann Ryan

Moments in Ink

A Montgomery Ink: Boulder Romance

By: Carrie Ann Ryan

ISBN 978-1-950443-28-4

Cover Art by Charity Hendry

Photograph by CJC Photography

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This

book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you

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did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only,

then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you

for respecting the hard work of this author.

All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the

author’s imagination.

P R A I S E F O R C A R R I E A NN R Y A N

“Count on Carrie Ann Ryan for emotional, sexy,
character driven stories that capture your heart!” –
Carly Phillips, NY Times bestselling author

“Carrie Ann Ryan’s romances are my newest

addiction! The emotion in her books captures me
from the very beginning. The hope and healing hold
me close until the end. These love stories will
simply sweep you away.” ~ NYT Bestselling
Author Deveny Perry

"Carrie Ann Ryan writes the perfect balance of

sweet and heat ensuring every story feeds the soul."
- Audrey Carlan, #1 New York Times Bestselling
Author

“Carrie Ann Ryan never fails to draw readers in

with passion, raw sensuality, and characters that
pop off the page. Any book by Carrie Ann is an
absolute treat.” – New York Times Bestselling
Author J. Kenner

“Carrie Ann Ryan knows how to pull your

heartstrings and make your pulse pound! Her
wonderful Redwood Pack series will draw you in
and keep you reading long into the night. I can’t
wait to see what comes next with the new
generation, the Talons. Keep them coming, Carrie
Ann!” –Lara Adrian, New York Times bestselling

author of CRAVE THE NIGHT

"With snarky humor, sizzling love scenes, and

brilliant, imaginative worldbuilding, The Dante's
Circle series reads as if Carrie Ann Ryan peeked at
my personal wish list!" – NYT Bestselling Author,
Larissa Ione

"Carrie Ann Ryan writes sexy shifters in a

world full of passionate happily-ever-afters." – New
York Times Bestselling Author Vivian Arend

“Carrie Ann’s books are sexy with characters

you can’t help but love from page one. They are
heat and heart blended to perfection.” New York
Times Bestselling Author Jayne Rylon

Carrie Ann Ryan's books are wickedly funny

and deliciously hot, with plenty of twists to keep
you guessing. They'll keep you up all night!” USA
Today Bestselling Author Cari Quinn

"Once again, Carrie Ann Ryan knocks the

Dante's Circle series out of the park. The queen of
hot, sexy, enthralling paranormal romance, Carrie
Ann is an author not to miss!" New York Times
bestselling Author Marie Harte

D E D I C A T I O N

To those who asked.

Thank you for all you do.

MO ME N T S I N I N K

The Montgomery Ink saga continues with a bonus
romance between two strangers on a path of
healing that leads to something far more.

Zia Clarkson thought she found her happily

ever after, not once, but twice. Her first love is now
engaged, and her second love broke more than her
heart. Heart and soul bruised; she’s not looking for
a relationship. Ever. Especially not with the uptight
Meredith Legend who stars in her fantasies.

They promised each other one night of passion.

And when the sun rises, they’ll walk away—even if
they’re both lying to themselves about why.

C H A P T E R 1

Zia

rolled my hips, my eyes closed, my
breath coming in pants. The music slid
along my skin, a caress of twilight and

sensation.

I had my earphones in, my phone in my hand,

and I let the music cascade over me as I moved to
the beat, my hips shaking, my feet dancing across
the hardwood of my floor. I spun in circles,
pretending as if I had taken a dance class in the
past year.

It didn’t matter, though, because I was alone.

Nobody was here to watch me, to comment, or to

trip me so I fell. I pushed those thoughts from my
head, wanting only the peace, the happiness. I
wiggled again, leaping and twirling around my
living and dining rooms as if I hadn’t a care in the
world, as if it were my job to dance and just live
and…be.

I missed dancing. I missed teaching classes. I

missed so much, but now I was back in America. I
was back at home, and I was going to find some
sense of normalcy even if I wasn’t quite sure what
that would end up being. It didn’t matter right at
this moment, as I was going to ignore the past and
focus on the here and now—and who I was.

As the music drummed within me, I kept

dancing and breathing. I probably looked like a fool
to anyone looking in, but I was used to that. My
hair flowed down my back, at least brushed from
sleeping on it with only dry shampoo. And I had no
makeup on my face, something a little odd for me
since it was my job to wear it, after all. And yet, all
I could think of was that I was a fresh start, and this
was how I was going to live.

The fact that I wore only a pair of lace panties

and a matching bra didn’t hurt things either. It
didn’t offer the best support for the amount of
jumping I was doing, but it didn’t matter. I felt no
pain, no horrors or stress. This was my happiness,
and I was going to dance around and simply be.
The music kept flowing through me, and I shook

my hips, danced on my toes, and I dreamed,
mouthing along to the words and, before long,
singing out loud. I didn’t have too bad of a voice
when it came to singing, but there was no way I
was on key with my current song.

I didn’t care since no one was around to listen.

And that was just what I needed. I had relied on so
many for too long. I’d needed to be surrounded by
people, craved their understanding and acceptance.
But no longer. I was Zia Clarkson, newly single,
former YouTube makeup artist, and I was home. I
was whole. I was healthy, and if any of that was a
lie, I was working on it. Attempting to make it true.

None of my past mattered. All that did was my

freedom. So, here I was, dancing in my newly
bought house, one paid for with my own money—
and perhaps some of the bank’s, as well, but still
my credit—and I was free. Finally free. I danced
around my kitchen, opened the back door, and kept
dancing onto my porch. My house was propped up
against a mountain, or really a foothill. A molehill
as some people called it in Colorado. Mountains
were everywhere along the western skyline of
Colorado, something I had missed, and clearly had
taken for granted when I was here before. While I
had lived elsewhere, and others might say their
mountains were the best, nothing was as beautiful
as home. And perhaps it was a bit elitist when it
came to our mountains, but I didn’t mind. This was

my home, and I loved every ounce of it.

And because I was backed up to the range,

nobody could see me from my porch, which was a
good thing because I was still in that bra and panty
set. I had neighbors on either side of me, but a tall
fence and trees blocked me. The fact that I had
even been able to get this home in the real estate
climate we were currently in had been a testament
to my luck and my shark-eyed realtor. I had paid
handsomely for it, but I didn’t mind because it was
all mine. My freedom and my peace. The home to
the right of me held an older couple who were
pretty quiet but had shown up with cookies and a
bottle of champagne to welcome me to the
neighborhood. I had smiled and invited them in,
even though, knowing my luck, they were probably
serial killers. They had been sweet, looked around
my empty home since I hadn’t bought any furniture
yet at the time. That had been quite interesting.

Then they left me alone. And I didn’t mind that.

I needed space. Needed to breathe. I just needed to
think and heal. No…that was enough of that. I kept
my hips moving as I danced to the music, my
thoughts trailing to places maybe I didn’t want to
think about. On the other side of me was a new
resident, as well, one I hadn’t met yet. I only knew
that they had moved in possibly a day or two after I
had, the moving truck taking over some of my
driveway while unloading. I hadn’t minded since

my vehicle had done the same to theirs, even if
they hadn’t been there to witness it. The people
that had previously owned each of our homes must
have been friends, or perhaps family members.
Maybe they were one of those sister wives because
the backyards had a gate that separated them.

The gate was a dual-door one, so in essence, the

backyard looked as if they could be wholly joined
at any time. When I had been looking at the place,
the realtor had mentioned it, and there hadn’t been
a lock on either side. Now, however, there was.
Honestly, I didn’t take offense that my new
neighbor had put a lock on their side of the gate.
They didn’t know me, and I didn’t know them. I
might put a lock on mine, as well, because even
though I was friendly, and I used to like meeting
new people, I had been burned more than once
having my privacy invaded, and maybe I didn’t
want people in my backyard.

A gust of wind blew over me, and I shivered. I

should probably go inside before someone actually
saw me. I turned around and cursed under my
breath as the wind came back and slammed the
back door.

“Great,” I muttered. I curled my arms around

myself, made my way to my door, reaching for the
doorknob. It didn’t budge, and my eyes widened.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no.”
I twisted again, but it didn’t move at all.

“I cannot be locked out in my underwear. I

cannot be locked out in my underwear.” I looked at
my phone and turned off the music. The wind
picked up, my body chilling. I had been in stupid
situations before, most of them my fault, but this
had to be up there on the list of the worst. I could
not be stuck outside, wearing only my lingerie.

Dear God, this could not be happening. I put

my phone on the bench next to the door, used my
left hand to put my palm on the door itself, and
kept twisting the knob, hoping that somehow, I
could force my way into my house. I had forgotten
that the door locked on its own if I wasn’t careful.
It was a security feature to keep me safe inside.
Still, right then, I didn’t really care about that
because I was locked outside in Colorado, with the
sun going down—and practically naked. This
wasn’t going to end well for anybody, but mostly
me.

“Oh, come on. Come on. Please, don’t let this

happen.”

“Everything okay over there?” a sultry voice

asked from the other side of the trees. I closed my
eyes and prayed that this was only a dream. Maybe
it wasn’t happening at all. Perhaps I would wake up
in my bed and not be standing outside practically
naked.

“Uh, yeah. Just locked myself out of my

house.”

“Oh, crap. Well, is there anything I can do? Do

you need to use a phone?” I looked down at my cell
and covered myself up as much as I could.
Whoever was on the other side of the trees couldn’t
see me, thankfully. And seeing as I had never met
this person, whoever my neighbor was, I didn’t
want this to be our introduction.

“No. Ironically, I have my phone in my hand.

Well, now I do. It was on the bench.” There was a
pause after my ramble.

“Okay. Do you know someone to call? I have a

problem remembering most phone numbers these
days, thanks to cell phones.”

“Well, it’s my mobile, so I have the numbers.”

More silence. “But thank you. Seriously.”

“No problem. Guess I’m not thinking quite

right. Long day.” I heard a shuffle and leaves under
feet. I searched my porch for a blanket.

Damn it, I would have to leave a throw under

that bench from now on, for the next time I got
caught in my bra and panties.

“I’m fine. You don’t have to come over here.”

But I was too late. A woman with short, blond hair,
a fade on one side with it long on the other, walked
towards the gate that separated our two lawns. She
wore suit pants and an open-collared shirt, her
sleeves rolled up to her elbows. It looked as if she
had just gotten off work and was about to change
for the day. She gave me a look, her eyes alight in

the dimming sunlight, her mouth parted. Her gaze
raked over me, and if I hadn’t already been
covered in goose flesh from the cold, I would’ve
pebbled even more. As it was, my breasts felt
heavy, and my nipples tightened. Damn boobs, they
ran everything. Boobs always did.

Her gorgeous eyes widened at the sight of me,

and thankfully, she didn’t run. “Oh, hi.”

“Hi. This is weird.”
“Yeah. I suppose it is.” The woman chewed her

very sexy lip. “One second.” She practically ran to
the other side of the trees where her door was, and
I closed my eyes and prayed that this would end,
but I really didn’t think it would. “I uh, had my suit
jacket on my porch since I recently took it off.”

“Oh. Thanks. I just thought that I should keep a

blanket out here.” I made my way to the gate,
trying to act as if this weren’t one of the most
embarrassing times of my life. I rolled my shoulders
back, even though I had my phone clutched in my
hand, my arm barely covering my breasts.
Considering that my lace underwear happened to
be a thong, when I turned away from her, she
would see far more of me than I had planned on
anyone seeing for a very long time. “Well, hi. I’m
Zia.”

The woman handed over her suit jacket, a

single, very sexily shaped brow raised. “Meredith.”

I took the jacket, slid it over my shoulders, and

pulled it closed as tightly as I could even though it
couldn’t quite fit over my breasts. Meredith had
curves, plenty, but her shoulders were broader than
mine, probably because it looked like she lifted
weights and was muscular. I was a little curvier, but
Meredith’s breasts looked firm and tight in her
crisp, white shirt. And her thighs? Damn, she must
be good at squats. I needed to stop checking her
out. “Anyway, hi.”

“Yeah. Hi. You can put the jacket back on the

gate when you’re done with it, and I’ll leave you
be.” And then the other woman, as sexy as she was,
turned on her heel and left me standing alone in her
jacket, locked outside my home.

I had said that I could take care of it, and I

would. Someone else had my key for emergencies,
and this was definitely an emergency. I really
wished I wasn’t so embarrassing all the time. I did
my best not to run, but I moved quickly back to my
porch, hiding behind the bushes as I maneuvered
my phone to call for help. Bristol answered on the
first ring. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Why would you immediately think something

was wrong?” I asked, my voice a little high-pitched.
The door from Meredith’s house closed, and I was
glad that it seemed as if she had gone inside and
wasn’t about to hear my embarrassing moments
increase.

“You said you were taking the whole night off

and didn’t want to talk to anybody and just needed
time, remember? I asked you to dinner, and then
you got this far-away look in your eyes and said
you needed time. But now you’re calling me.
What’s wrong?”

Bristol was my ex, the first woman—the first

person, for that matter—that I had ever loved.
Now, she was engaged to her best friend, and the
two of them were perfect for each other. I wasn’t
jealous that Marcus had Bristol because I was over
that love, or at least it had molded into a friendship
that I would never take for granted again.

I was jealous that she had found her happily

ever after, and I was in the process of forgetting to
look for mine because I had fallen in love again
after Bristol. But never again. I couldn’t.

“I’m fine. I’m just locked outside of my house

on my porch.”

“Crap. Okay, we’ll come bring the key. That

stupid lock, right?”

“Yup.”
“What else is wrong?” she asked. I could hear

Marcus’s deep voice rumbling on the other side of
the phone.

“Well, I met my neighbor.”
“Oh, are they nice?”
“Maybe. I don’t know, considering I was in a

bra and panties and dancing on my porch when I
realized that I’d locked myself out of the house.

Now, I’m cold and wearing her suit jacket.” There
was enough silence on the line that it practically
screamed at me, but I wanted to hide under my
non-existent blanket.

“Was she hot?” Bristol asked. I burst out

laughing, and I could hear Marcus grumbling again.

“Can you please just come and help me? And

then I will not ask for help again because I can do
this. I can do this whole being-on-my-own thing.”

“Of course, you can. You are strong,

independent, and you always have been. You are a
light in our lives, Zia, and I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I whispered, knowing that my

love was far different than it had been even a year
ago when it came to Bristol. And the fact that she
could say those words to me in front of the love of
her life told me that the dynamics of our
relationship had changed, and for the better.

“We’re on our way,” Marcus said into the

phone.

“Hey there,” I said. “Sorry about this.”
“Never be sorry. We’re here for you.”
“You are too perfect to be real sometimes,” I

said, being truthful. “I just figured that, of course, I
would meet my new neighbor while I was dancing
in my underwear.”

“Well, it could be worse. You could be naked,”

Marcus said. I heard the car starting in the
background.

“You have not seen these panties,” I said. “I’m

pretty much there already.” Marcus barked out a
laugh, and I heard the phone switch to
speakerphone in their car.

“Stop trying to woo my fiancé,” Bristol joked.
I snorted. “I’m just saying. You already have a

triad in the family. We could make a great
threesome,” I said, clearly joking. It was a jest we
had made more than once, and I liked that they
didn’t take me seriously. After all, I wasn’t
anywhere near serious in that. Simply because
Bristol’s mom loved me and had wanted me to be a
part of the family, didn’t mean I was going to marry
a Montgomery. I liked being part of the extended
family in the way that I was.

“You keep saying that,” Marcus began. “And

one day, you’re going to end up married to both of
us, and you won’t know what to do.”

“That is true. I am a bit much for anybody.” I

was only teasing, but the others were silent enough
that I was afraid I had said something wrong. “You
are perfect in every way. Well, practically perfect
in every way if we’re going for the pure Mary
Poppins spirit,” Bristol said with a laugh.

“I’m nowhere near perfect,” I said.
“None of us are,” Marcus began, his tone

serious. “But that’s what makes us human. Now,
are you warm enough?”

“I guess,” I said, my teeth chattering. “But

you’re on your way, right?”

“We’re maybe thirty seconds away. Make sure

you’re safe. We’re coming for you.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, closing my eyes as

tears stung the backs of them.

“Always,” Bristol whispered.
I let out a shuddering breath, the sound of their

car pulling into my driveway the sweetest music to
my ears. I was trying to figure out how to be the Zia
I needed to be after breaking part of myself with
my poor decisions. And now, here I was, meeting
my new neighbor in ways that I shouldn’t, and even
having sexy images of that person in my mind. I
shouldn’t have even let myself check her out. I
didn’t know if Meredith liked women. And I didn’t
need to be with anyone else. I just needed to
remember who I was.

I was Zia Clarkson, a girly girl who was finally

home. As Bristol opened the door with a smile on
her face, I wrapped my arms around her and sank
into her hold. Marcus was there too, wrapping his
arms around us both, and I inhaled their scents,
feeling like I was home.

I might not have found my happily ever after

with Bristol, but I had found a friendship that I
would do my best to never walk away from again.
Because I still didn’t know exactly who Zia
Clarkson was, even if I did my best to put as many
labels on myself as I could. Now, I needed to figure

out the next step, and remember that I was here to
heal, to breathe, and not stand outside in my
underwear making stupid decisions, one right after
the other.

Again.

“I

C H A P T E R 2

Meredith

’m never sleeping with you, Aaron
Montgomery.”

The man with the strong jaw,

panty-dropping smile, and blue eyes winked at me.
“Really.” He paused. “You mean you’re never
sleeping with me. Again.”

I rolled my eyes and took a sip of my dirty

martini. “Again,” I corrected. “I’m never sleeping
with you again.”

“Well, as long as we know what we’re in for,

we can make this relationship work.”

“There is no relationship. Only drinking and

sarcasm. And our book club.”

“Is it truly a book club if it’s only the two of us?

At this point, it’s just us talking about what we love
about books.”

“It’s a book club because you know I don’t like

people. Therefore, I don’t want to have to deal with
others in said book club.”

“Whatever you say, Meredith Legend.”
“What’s with us using both of our given names?

It’s a little weird.”

“You did it first,” Aaron said. “I needed to

change my speech patterns and match you since,
you know, we’re in the club and everything.”

“Now it sounds like we’re in a cult.”
“Please do not talk to me about cults.”
“Uh, yeah, the whole family thing?” I said with

a laugh, taking another sip of my drink. He’d
already told me the family cult joke that I found
hilarious, but not everyone would get it if they
didn’t know the Montgomerys.

“Stop it. I already have to deal enough with

cults. Let’s not get into it again.”

“Okay. I believe you. And anyway, we’re not

here only to talk romance books. However, the new
Lisa Kleypas release? My God,” I said, and Aaron
leaned forward, his eyes bright.

“I know. I was shocked about who she picked

as the hero, but it was perfect by the time you
reached the end.”

I shook my head, grinning. “I will never feel

sorry for the day that I forced you to read Derek
Craven’s book.”

“Forced me?” Aaron asked, laughing.
“Okay, so I left it lying around, and you picked

it up. But you kept reading. It makes me happy.”

“I’ve learned a lot about women by reading

what I do. And I get to lord it over my brothers.
That’s the best reason to keep doing it.”

“That is true. Although, you make your

brothers sound larger than life.”

“You’re too late to meet any of them and marry

into the family. They’re all taken. Even my sister.”

I grinned. “You and I went on a single date,

realized we weren’t suited for each other—even
after we slept together, and it was pretty hot,” I
said, and he rolled his eyes.

“Only pretty hot?”
“I mean, we were laughing the entire time.

Though it was fun. And hot. And amazing. We’re
still totally better as friends.”

“Fine, and I guess I wouldn’t have wanted you

to date any of my family members because that’s
just weird.”

“Even if they were still single, I would never

date any of your brothers. Or your sister. I don’t
play in the same sandbox where I’ve already been,
so to speak.”

“That’s a picture, and good to know. Although

Bristol is probably your type, now that I think
about it.”

I frowned. “Wait. Bristol. I know that name.”
“You know it because I’ve mentioned her

before most likely.”

Aaron and I were friends of a sort, had dated at

one time, and did talk books. I was also his
accountant, not that tonight was really about work.
But I didn’t speak to him about personal things all
the time. He might’ve mentioned his sister before,
but admittedly, I was terrible with names.

“I think my neighbor mentioned a Bristol. At

least, what I overheard. Bristol is a popular name
nowadays, so it’s probably not the same person.”

“Your neighbor? Oh, right, you moved into that

new home of yours. Good on you for already
meeting the neighbors.”

I imagined those very dusky pink nipples

peeking through the pale cream lacy bra she’d worn
and swallowed hard, grateful that I wasn’t drinking
any of my martini at the moment.

“Uh, yep. Just the one. I don’t know if anybody

else lives there. But, oh, yes, I met her.”

“Her?” Aaron asked, waggling his brows.
“Yeah. Her. Anyway, I don’t know if I’ll see

much of her.”

Not any more than I already have.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I don’t plan on spending a lot of time hanging

out with my neighbors. I want to be at home to
breathe.”

“I get that.” Aaron frowned. “I know it’s been a

hell of a long time since you and I talked books,
and even longer since you and I met up, but if you
want to talk about it, I’m always here for you. I
promise.”

He didn’t reach out and touch my hand or try to

console me. He was merely nice.

And maybe I needed that, but I didn’t feel

much like it just then.

“It’s not a big deal. I’m okay.”
And I was. Or at least I was learning what okay

meant to me.

“Speak of the devil,” Aaron said and looked

over my shoulder. He grinned, and I looked in the
direction of this gaze and froze. My whole body
warmed, almost as if the heat surrounding me
wouldn’t let me breathe.

A sexy-as-hell man with dark skin, close-

cropped hair, and a sweet smile prowled toward the
table, looking like sex on a stick. But I still wasn’t
sure he was the sexiest of the three that walked
towards us. A woman with sinful curves, dark hair,
and Aaron’s eyes walked by the man’s side, her
plump lips tipped in a smile.

But yet again, still not the sexiest of the three.
No, that was Zia. My neighbor, fully clothed

this time and still making my mouth water.

Zia wore a lacy shirt that showed some of her

stomach, a thin line of tan skin that looked lickable.
Over that, she had on a leather jacket that was cut
to accentuate her shape and looked as if it had been
made especially for her. She wore suit pants with a
leather strip down the side that clung to her legs,
and her ass looked delectable as she turned slightly.
She had on high heels, ones that were even taller
than mine, and I tended to wear sky-high shoes.

Her hair was purple, a bright shade that made

gazes stray even if it was a current trend at the
moment. She looked as if she had started the trend
instead of following along.

She had ink in strategic places, bare hints of it

that begged for someone’s tongue. Her makeup was
perfectly done as if she had gone to someone to
have it applied professionally.

It was that smoky eye thing that had the perfect

hues of purple that matched her hair and nails.

I had seen Zia practically naked, looking fresh-

faced and sexy as hell, and she had looked
beautiful then.

This well made-up and perfectly poised Zia

looked sexy as hell, as well, and I had no idea
which one I preferred. Then I asked myself why the
fuck it mattered because it wasn’t as if I was going
to act on any of these inappropriate feelings going
through my mind just then.

“Hey, there, sister of mine.” Aaron kissed his

sibling’s cheek, and Bristol grinned.

“Hey, there, baby brother,” she said before

smiling at me. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were on a
date. Sorry, hi. I’m his sister. And I promise I’m not
evil and judgy, so I really hope you’re having a fun
time.”

“Thanks,” Aaron said, rolling his eyes.
“We’re having a great time, but this isn’t a

date,” I said, laughing. There was something about
Bristol that made me smile.

“Oh? Then I’m not interrupting awkwardly.

This is my fiancé, Marcus, and my best friend, Zia.”

“We’ve met,” Zia said, waving awkwardly.
I lifted my chin, not exactly sure what to say.
“You’ve met?” Bristol asked, narrowing her

eyes, looking between the two of us. “Where?
When? And why am I being so nosy?”

Marcus leaned forward and kissed his fiancée

on the temple. “Because you’re always nosy, but
that’s why we love you?”

“I’m delighted that he said it and not me

because you’re not going to hurt him, but you
would probably try to hurt me,” Aaron said, leaning
back.

“That is true,” Bristol said. “So, Zia? Where did

you guys meet?”

“This is my neighbor,” Zia said quickly,

blushing up to her purple roots. “You know, the one
that I met when I was wearing, well...”

“Really?” Bristol asked, interested curiosity in

her expression.

Marcus met my gaze and seemed apologetic.
I had no idea what that meant.
“Wait? What were you wearing? What

happened? Here, they set us at a four-top, but
we’re only here for drinks. Come. We’ll get another
chair. Join us.” Aaron looked at me. “If that’s okay
with you.”

“Oh, that’s fine.” I cleared my throat, trying not

to sound as awkward as I felt. “Seriously. Join us.
It’ll be good to get to know other people in the
area.” See? I wasn’t that awkward. Or maybe I
was, and I needed to get better at it.

“If you’re sure,” Bristol said, looking between

Aaron and me.

“Really sure. Totally not a date. I’m his

accountant.”

I watched Zia’s face as her eyes widened,

taking in my undercut paired with my professional
clothing. I didn’t look like a typical accountant,
especially when you saw the ink that I hid under
my clothes. Still, I could look professional and
straitlaced if I had to. And most days, I needed to.

The hair was new, something I had done after

my divorce, and I was getting good at figuring out
who I needed to be in each situation I was in. But
for now, I was the accountant, perhaps the friend,
but nothing more.

“If this is a business meeting...” Bristol began.
“Sit,” Aaron barked. Thankfully, the waiter

came by with an extra chair as if hovering and
waiting for us to make up our minds. The other
three sat down and ordered a bottle of wine to
share. I got my second martini, as did Aaron,
though his wasn’t dirty.

“So, hi,” Bristol said, clapping her hands

together.

“Stop it,” Aaron said with a laugh.
“What? Aaron never introduces us to his

friends,” Bristol said.

“There might be a reason for that, babe,”

Marcus said and let out a laugh when Bristol tried
to elbow him in the gut.

“I hurt my elbow,” Bristol said, rubbing her

joint.

“Probably because the man you’re going to

marry is built as fuck. Sorry,” Zia said, not
apologetically to Marcus.

“Oh, I’m not offended at all. She tried to elbow

my abs, and she got what she deserved,” Marcus
said with a laugh. I grinned, liking the chemistry
between everybody, though I didn’t know Zia’s
connection to the others.

“So, accountant?” Zia asked, and I raised a

brow, annoyed.

“Yep. What, don’t look like the typical

accountant to you?” I asked, my tone a little snippy.

She’d hit a sore spot, and apparently, I was done
pretending that I was okay with everything.

Aaron winced, and Bristol and Marcus looked

between us, sharing a look I didn’t understand.
Couples had their own secret language, one that I’d
never quite learned with my ex.

“No, I was actually on the hunt for an

accountant. And I think you’re hot, so you do you.”

Luckily, the waiter came and performed the

wine ritual then, with Bristol doing the tasting. But
as it was served, and we all clinked glasses in
cheers, Zia’s gaze never left mine as she took a sip
of her drink.

Aaron cleared his throat. “She’s my accountant,

and she’s pretty kick-ass. And she deals with artists
and small businesses, so she’d probably be able to
understand all the weird crap that will come up
with your business.”

I frowned. “What do you do?”
“I’m a makeup artist. And I had an accountant,

but I need one that’s local now that I’ve moved
back to America.”

“Where were you?” I asked, confused and not

surprised at all that she was a makeup artist. Her
talent was evident on her face.

“I was in England for a while, but no longer.

I’m back home. We’re neighbors and all, so I guess
you being my accountant wouldn’t be smart
because that’d be mixing home with business.”

I noticed that she didn’t say the common saying

of business and pleasure, but with the sparks
emitting from both of us just then? Even if the
chemistry wasn’t necessarily polite, pleasure wasn’t
something that either of us would have with the
other. Mostly because I wanted nothing to do with
whatever Zia had. Because it scared me. I felt that
heat there, but I told myself I needed time to be me.

“Okay, let’s get back to talking about me,”

Bristol said.

Aaron snorted. “Subtle,” he said, laughing.
“What? My wedding is coming up, and I want

to make it perfect.”

“Really? When are you guys getting married?” I

asked, leaning forward, genuinely interested. I
might not love love anymore, but I did love
weddings. Mostly because I liked what people did
with them to make them theirs. And given what I
knew from Aaron about his family, the
Montgomerys were good about adding their own
flair.

“Our engagement was…let’s say unusual. So I

want our wedding to be a mix of classic and very
much unusual, as well.”

I raised a brow in question, and Bristol

explained the very unusual reason Marcus and she
had gotten engaged. I just shook my head at the
unbelievable and romantic story as the two looked
at each other, kissed softly, and then stared into

each other’s eyes as if they were the only two
people in the world.

I looked at Zia and saw the longing in her gaze

and wondered what the story was there.

But it wasn’t my place to ask.
When Zia got up to use the restroom, her voice

soft, my gaze followed her, moving to all her
curves, and I wondered what she was thinking.

Red alert. I told myself that this was dangerous.

I shouldn’t wonder too much about her.

I couldn’t.
“Well, I am the fifth wheel here,” Aaron said

after a moment.

“Excuse me?”
“I’m only saying, between these two making

googly eyes at each other, and you and Zia acting
like peacocks trying to figure out exactly what you
feel towards one another, I’m totally the fifth
wheel.”

“She’s my neighbor. Your friend. That’s it.”
“I don’t know,” Bristol said softly. “She never

looked at me the way she looks at you.”

“You two used to date?” I asked, wondering

why I was surprised.

“Yes, but we were better suited as friends. And

I just want her happy.”

I didn’t know if there was a warning in that or

not, but it didn’t matter.

“Not happening,” I said.

“I don’t know,” Aaron began. “I think I’m

going to be singed by looking at the two of you by
the end of the night. And while Ethan might be
fond of having two loves of his life, I’m not getting
in the middle of that.”

Marcus and Bristol snorted, and I shook my

head.

“Not

that

you’d

ever

invited,

Montgomery,” I said, doing my best version of a
haughty tone.

The three of them burst out laughing as Zia

came back, confusion on her face.

“What did I miss?”
“Aaron being put in his place,” Marcus said,

shaking his head.

Thankfully, Zia didn’t ask exactly how that had

happened. We went back to our drinks, all of us
keenly aware of what we weren’t saying.

But it didn’t matter. I did not have a thing for

Zia. She might be hot, might be exactly my type,
but I wasn’t looking.

Once we’d finished our drinks, we each paid

and headed our separate ways, Aaron and me
promising to see each other again, and me being
nice to the others.

It was good to find new people to speak with, to

stop shutting myself in my house like a hermit. But
I was ready to go home and do exactly that.

I pulled into my driveway at nearly the same

time as Zia did in hers and tilted my chin at the

other woman.

She walked towards me along the stone path

between our houses, the connections between them
so stark that it sometimes seemed odd that the two
homes had been sold separately when so many
things seemed to be shared between them.

“Hey there,” Zia said.
“Hi,” I said.
“I have your coat. I can get it to you.”
“Um, maybe tomorrow. I need to go in.

Headache,” I lied.

She seemed to understand that I was lying. But

I didn’t care. I didn’t know what to make of her,
and I needed to get my thoughts in order first.

It was hard to do that with her standing right

there looking sexy as hell.

“Sorry for how we met. It’s a funny story, but I

can be a little out there, so I apologize if I
embarrassed you.”

I shook my head, confused. “You didn’t

embarrass me at all. I’m just glad that you made it
inside your house, and you have good friends that
could help you. There were a lot of connections
tonight. I guess it confused me.”

“Yeah, me, too.” She licked her lips, and my

gaze went straight to her mouth. I didn’t think
either of us had meant for it to happen.

She let out a slow breath. “Have a good night,

neighbor.”

“Goodnight,” I whispered. She looked at me

again, her chest rising slowly as she inhaled, and
then she turned on her very high heels and made
her way back toward her house.

I made sure she made it inside safely, and then I

walked into my own home and closed the door
behind me. I put my palms on the wood, inhaling
again, trying to get her scent out of my nostrils, but
it wasn’t easy.

“Shit,” I whispered.
Shit, shit, shit.
I had moved here to get healthy, to get happy.
Not to find someone that was probably all

wrong for me and bruise my heart even more than
it already was.

But there was something about Zia.
And hell, I had a feeling that even though I

could hide and never see my neighbor again if I
really tried, it wasn’t going to be easy. And most of
me didn’t want it to be.

Well, shit.

“A

C H A P T E R 3

Zia

nd that’s it for this look. What do you
think? Be sure to hit subscribe on my
channel and like this video if you’d

like to keep up on all of our looks. It’s been
wonderful seeing you again, my beauties. I wish
you all the best, and remember, the beauty we play
with starts from the inside. Be kind and remember
that you are loved. This is Zia, and I love you.”

I smiled, lowered my eyes to show off my

makeup again, and then hit end on the recording.

I let out a sigh, rolled my shoulders back, and

looked at my makeup. My recording had gone

longer than I had planned, but I felt like I had hit a
stride.

It had been a while since I’d done a video this

long, or even a tutorial. I wasn’t active like I used
to be, my views going way down since I wasn’t one
of the popular beauty bloggers any longer. And that
was fine with me, it wasn’t the main focus of my
business anymore, and I didn’t solely rely on
YouTube advertising to pay my bills. Every once in
a while, I liked sitting in front of a camera, though,
taking the time to set up my lighting and have some
fun with a new look.

I had been thinking about this one for a while,

Poison Ivy meets a Disney princess. I liked being
able to explore and experiment with my looks, even
if the ones I did weren’t perfect for every day. Most
of the looks I did these days weren’t for my old
channel but for clients who wanted to learn how to
be able to do their makeup to feel as if they were
brightening their eyes or making their cheekbones
stand out the way that they wanted them to. All
without feeling down about themselves, and
without adding too much to their morning routine
so they could go into work.

While in England, I’d worked on opening my

business and launching my makeup line with my
new palette coming out in the fall. I also had my
YouTube channel, my other social media,
advertising, and being a makeup artist in general. I

didn’t have the option of going into other avenues
that many makeup artists did, mostly because I had
moved to Boulder and not to New York or LA. I
had thought about doing that after coming home
from England and going into that form of makeup,
but I’d wanted to be home for a little bit. To
remember who I was. And while my path in my
career wasn’t standard, I was figuring out what
worked for me. And it would evolve as times
changed. Because I wasn’t going to sit back and
waste what income I had already made by
forgetting what I needed to do and be in the future
—whoever that person may be.

Now, I was pretty much covered head to toe in

a princess Poison Ivy look, and it was a little
ridiculous. However, I wasn’t going to change until
later. I needed to use the lighting in the other part
of my house to take more pictures for social media
to add to my video once I edited it, and even work
on more photos for my friend’s cosplay site. They
owned a blog where they went over different looks
for cosplay to help people who were closet
cosplayers or new in the arena to figure out where
they wanted to start and what they wanted to have
fun with.

I loved it because it didn’t matter where they

came from socioeconomically, or if they looked
nothing like the person they wanted to cosplay,
everybody could have their own twist. They didn’t

have to be “a perfect Barbie” as an old cosplayer
blogger used to call them.

I wasn’t a fan of making anyone feel like they

weren’t enough. I wanted to show the world that
they could be anybody they wanted to be. They
had to love themselves first.

Maybe it was an old saying, and people would

laugh at me for how I made my living, but it was a
living, and if I could bring joy to people while I did
that, then that’s what I would do.

When I needed to move on to a new career, I

would, but this would always be something I loved,
even if it was only a thing for me to do in a room
with great lighting and a palette of eyeshadow.

I looked down at my notes and made a few

more for my staff. I loved that I could employ
people now, especially in the other parts of my
business that had nothing to do with the makeup on
my face. My goal was to provide an income for
others that worked hard but maybe couldn’t find a
normal path to employment. Whatever normal was
these days.

I wanted to provide for people who needed help

but weren’t able to ask for it. Most of my staff was
made up of single mothers or men and women who,
thanks to circumstances out of their control, felt
unable to really leave their house and go in for a
nine-to-five job. But I was there for them, doing my
best to help them.

I loved my job, even if I didn’t have an exact

title with most things. Still, I considered myself an
entrepreneur. One who wanted to help others, to
show beauty in the way people wanted themselves
to be.

With makeup or without. Simply healthy.
My degree in psychology didn’t help me with

everything, but it did in some things. I had wanted
to go to cosmetology school, but that hadn’t
happened. In the end, I’d gotten to sort of mix both
of my passions. At least, in a way.

I went outside, needing the air, and figured I

could take some outdoor shots using my tripod and
timer. I froze at the sound of Meredith’s voice.

“I understand, but that’s not what we talked

about.”

I couldn’t see her, but the clipped nature of her

words made me freeze, not wanting to intrude.
However, I also wanted to know if there was
anything I could do. Not that I knew if I could do
anything.

“Fine, fine. Send the paperwork over. You and I

aren’t done.” Meredith let out a sigh, cursed under
her breath, and then went silent. I figured she had
ended the call.

The trees still separated us, so I did my best to

ignore her. I didn’t even say hello because I didn’t
want her to think that I had been listening in—
because I totally had been.

Instead, I set up my light and tripod near the far

corner of my yard and hoped she wouldn’t come
around the trees and see me in my full cosplay
regalia.

I wasn’t in full costume, but I was still wearing

leather pants, a bright green lace-up top, and my
boobs were pretty much pushed to my chin. I had
put on a ruby red wig, and I felt like a million
bucks.

I didn’t need to be judged by someone who

didn’t understand my job.

And maybe that was my ex from London

talking in my head, not Meredith. But I really didn’t
want to get hurt again. Especially not by someone I
felt an attraction to, one I should probably ignore.

I put my hands on my hips and took a few

photos doing my best to find the right angle.

I went back to my phone, checked to see what

the photos looked like, and adjusted.

“Thank you for my jacket,” Meredith said from

the gate. I froze, thankful that I didn’t push back
and trip over my heels.

“Oh, you’re welcome. I didn’t know where to

put it.”

“Over the gate like you did, and on a towel so it

didn’t get dirty was perfect. So, thank you.”

I let out a breath and nodded, doing my best not

to look at Meredith in her full accountant
straitlaced gear. She looked like fucking Rachel

Maddow and Megan Rapinoe had had a baby and
became my wet dream.

There was something wrong with the way

Meredith looked, all sexy as hell and serious.

And though her undercut made it look as if she

might have a wild side or at least an angle that
wasn’t as judgy, everything else bled seriousness.

The exact opposite of my current costume.
“Anyway, I need to get back to work.” I heard

the curtness in my words and saw Meredith raise a
brow.

Was the look in response to my getup? Or my

tone?

“What are you working on?” Meredith asked.
“Uh, just photos.”
Smooth.
“Is this a new makeup look for your channel?”

Meredith asked.

I blinked, confused. Had I told her about my

channel? No, I had said that I was a makeup artist.
Maybe Aaron had mentioned it.

“I recognized your name once I thought about

it. A couple of my friends follow you religiously
and try out your looks.”

“Your friends. But not you?” I asked,

wondering why I sounded so catty.

Meredith snorted and gestured towards the

gate. I nodded, waving my hand, and she stepped
through and headed towards where I was standing.

I didn’t know what she wanted, but practically
shouting over the backyard was idiotic.

“I don’t have the talent for it.”
“Anybody can have the talent for it. You only

need to learn the basic steps,” I said, repeating my
mantra.

“Maybe. I don’t have that type of talent,

though. I seriously don’t. I’m good with two colors
on my eyes, a light one and a dark one, and
sometimes I even blend them together. Very thin
eyeliner usually helps me out. I tried that cat-eye
look once. Let’s just say I ended up with pinkeye.”

I held back a wince. “Clean brushes are the

way to go.”

“I know that. But I stabbed myself in the eye so

hard, it ended up pink.”

I snorted at that.
“Really?”
“Really. I am seriously the worst at it. I know

you say that anybody can learn, but I don’t think
that’s the case. I’m better at one-on-one training.”

I didn’t know if she was hitting on me, but the

way she looked at me, her eyes all dark and stormy,
the way she licked her lips? I wanted it to be
flirting.

Or maybe I saw too much into what wasn’t

there.

“You know, you have great cheekbones,” I said

suddenly, and she smiled at me.

“That’s good genetics.”
“Perhaps. You can work with those with any

look that you want. If, you know…you ever want
my help or anything. Not that you need it. But it is
sort of my job.”

I was rambling, and I knew it, and from the way

that she smiled at me, she knew it, too.

Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer. I’d like to

be able to know at least how to do more than I
already do. It’d be nice to have a better basic work
look. As well as to have something to wear when I
go out. Not that I go out all that much, other than
with Aaron when he forces me.”

She smiled at that, and I swallowed hard, trying

not to imagine her out on the town with me on her
arm.

I was seriously losing my mind.
“So, are you Poison Ivy? As a princess?” She

looked up at the tiara I had forgotten I’d put in my
wig.

“I am. At least, partly. Thanks for getting it

right.”

“It was the green. Plus, did you put leaves on

your eyelids?”

I fluttered my eyelashes and grinned. “Yep.

Took forever, it was probably one of my harder
tutorials, but I can’t wait to see what people think
of it and do on their own. They tag me in the best
Instagram photos.”

I was also tagged in some of the worst, but

those were just trolls looking for attention, and I
wanted nothing to do with that.

“I’ve always wanted to have fun with my

makeup and things, but I’ve never been good at it.
And my ex always wanted me to be a girly girl,
even when I sometimes didn’t feel like being one.
Sometimes I do. But…I don’t know. When I left
him, I went full-on opposite. I threw away my
dresses, got the undercut, and proclaimed that I
would be who I was.”

I froze, feeling as if I didn’t move, she might

forget that I was standing there and open herself up
again. Not that I was any good at opening up.

“You can be whoever you want to be. And I

know those words are overused, and sometimes
aren’t the truth, but if you can find your way in
there, you can be the girly girl you want to be. Or
not. Whatever.” I added the last part, completely
derailing my conversation, but she smiled at me and
stuffed her hands into her suit pockets.

The fact that her pants had actual pockets held

me transfixed, and she rocked back on her heels
and grinned.

“Yes, these are men’s pants. Women’s don’t

usually have pockets. I mean, what the hell, right?”

“I swear, every time I wear a dress with

pockets, I twirl and show everyone I can that it
does, indeed, have pockets.”

“The best stuff does.”
A silence dropped between us, and I wasn’t

sure if it was awkward or not.

“What you said about your ex? I had something

similar before. When I left him, back in England…
Anyway, I’m still trying to figure out who I am.”

“I didn’t know who I was before. I’m also

trying to figure it out,” Meredith said, not looking at
me. “I do like the suits, though.”

“Well, you look fucking hot in them.”
Meredith looked at me then, her eyes dark, a

smile playing on her lips.

I swallowed hard. “Go out with me,” I said,

surprising myself.

I must have surprised her too because her eyes

widened.

“I mean, forget that. That was stupid. We’re

neighbors. You might be my accountant. Okay, you
might not be my accountant. We’re both totally not
looking for anything. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Okay,” Meredith said, and I froze.
“Okay?”
“Okay. Let’s go out. We’re both not looking for

anything serious. Right?”

I nodded. “I want nothing to do with serious.”
“Then, sure. Why not? I could use a friend.”

She paused, and something in my heart tore, even
though I didn’t know what or why. “Or whatever.”

Whatever. I could do whatever.

“Okay,” I said.
“Now, did you find your right angle? Or do you

need some help with the camera?” Meredith asked,
grinning.

“Really? You want to help?”
“Why not?”
“You could always join me and be the serious

businesswoman beside Poison Ivy.”

“I don’t think I’m wearing the right makeup for

that.”

“I don’t think you’re giving yourself a chance.”
And then she stepped forward. My breath

caught, and she reached for the camera.

“Why don’t you be the star, and I’ll stand

behind the lens.”

“For now,” I said, laughing.
“Perhaps.
I let out a breath and let Poison Ivy as a

princess fill me.

I could pretend, I could become the people that

were nothing like me. Because, as Meredith had
said, I didn’t know who I was. But I was figuring it
out.

And, apparently, I had a date.

C H A P T E R 4

Meredith

ran my hands over my face and stared
at my closet, wondering what the hell I
was doing. I needed to pick what I was

going to wear for my date with Zia, but I had no
idea what look to go with.

Should I try for girly girl as we had talked

about?

Would she like me like that?
We had talked about me in a dress, but was that

me right now? I liked wearing pants most of the
time, though I still had a couple of dresses I hadn’t
donated when I left my husband.

Only I wasn’t sure I was ready to wear a dress.

And the two that I had in the back of my closet
weren’t set up for dinner and dancing and possibly
drinks that Zia and I had talked about after the
photoshoot.

Or should I go with the suit? Maybe some

leather? Lace? Or perhaps just go in my bra and
panties like she had worn when I first met her, and
we could call it a day.

I ran my hands down my face again, grateful

that I hadn’t put on any makeup yet. Not that my
makeup would look anywhere near close to Zia’s.
Maybe I should quit while I was ahead and text her
that I couldn’t go. She would probably hate me for
it, but at least I wouldn’t feel as dejected as I did
right now.

I had never been good at dating, hence why I’d

ended up with the person I had. And I felt like I had
gotten even worse at the idea of it since.

All because I was trying to be introspective and

shit. And frankly, I didn’t know where to start.

“Just wear the fucking suit,” I growled and

reached for my stone-gray pants, and the white
button-up top with a black lace design along the
seams.

I would pair it with a leather jacket, or maybe

my vest, as well as some high-heeled boots and call
it a day.

It wasn’t the fanciest thing I owned, nor the

most sparkly. Zia would probably outshine me no
matter where we went or what I wore, and that was
fine with me. She sparkled even without makeup,
and her hair brushed back as if she had recently
woken up.

She shined in the darkness, and I liked that.
I didn’t mind being the canvas next to her, but I

did mind looking like hell. I at least had to try.

But I didn’t know where to start.
I set out my clothes and went back into the

bathroom to do my makeup.

I had watched her basic night out tutorial seven

times earlier, had taken notes, and now I was going
to try it.

The fact that I was putting so much into this

embarrassed me, and if anybody asked, I would lie
to them and say that I hadn’t done any of it. But
here I was, trying to practice a basic smoky eye
with whatever makeup I had.

Thankfully, Zia’s tutorials also came with a link

to her website that went over everything step by
step in words, as well.

appreciated

the

notetaking

because,

sometimes, I got distracted by the sound of her
voice, and I wasn’t a hundred percent sure exactly
how I felt about that.

I was trying, and that had to count for

something.

I still couldn’t believe that I had said yes to a

date, and I had a feeling that she couldn’t quite
believe she had not only asked me but that I had
said yes, as well.

We would have fun tonight, and I was going to

try and get out of my comfort zone. My comfort
zone lately had been me hiding in my new house
and pretending that the rest of the world couldn’t
find me.

I couldn’t hide for the rest of my life, though, so

I needed to find out if this new phase suited me. If
it didn’t, then Zia and I could walk away as friends,
and we wouldn’t hurt each other in the end.
Because we would have barriers, we would have
rules.

And we would have fun.
I was super stressed out.
I looked down at the new brushes in front of me

and hoped that I had bought the right ones, even
though they were the ones directly from her
website.

I had wanted to get this right, and frankly, I

needed something more than the sample brush that
had come with my previous makeup.

She had mentioned something about cleaning

brushes, so I had bought that stuff, too, and now I
had a wide array of new utensils. Though I
probably needed better makeup to go with all of it.

I applied my primer, something I hadn’t even

known existed until now, and then started on my

base and the rest.

I sucked at blending, but with the new brush I

had, it was easier than it had ever been before.
Having the right tools or even some semblance of
how to use them actually helped.

Who knew?
I curled my lashes, applied my nude matte

lipstick because I wanted to showcase my eyes, as
well as my cheekbones because, apparently, she
liked them, and called it a day.

I added more products to my hair, something I

was good at because I trained myself for months to
get my hair the way that I wanted it depending on
the situation while smiling at the person in front of
me.

I let out a breath. “Here we go.”
I looked like myself, if a little bit brighter. I

grinned. I liked it. I hoped Zia did, too.

Hoping for the best, I put on my clothes and

decided on a leather jacket instead of a vest so I
didn’t cover up the intricate designs on the shirt,
then slid on my high heels that made my ass look
great, if I did say so myself. I added earrings, and a
masculine watch as well as a glittery bracelet.

Sometimes, I knew I was a contradiction in

what the norms might be. Still, I felt powerful when
I picked out elements to put together to discover
who I was.

I looked slightly different when I worked, and

that was fine with me. I could put on whatever
armor I needed to. Figuring out what lay beneath
that was my goal, and I was working on it. But for
now, I would simply enjoy myself.

I put my wallet and phone in a small bag,

deciding that I didn’t want to mess up the lines of
my suit by putting them in my pockets. Nine times
out of ten, I ended up checking my coat if we went
out dancing, so I didn’t want to put them in there,
either.

I looked really fucking hot, at least I would until

I rubbed my makeup off by accident or something,
so I was calling it a win.

I was honestly nervous to see what Zia would

wear tonight. Because she was sexy as hell, made
my palms damp and everything inside me clench in
the best ways possible.

I had no idea what I was doing when it came to

her, but I was enjoying the chase and finding out.

“Let’s do this,” I whispered to myself. And then

I made my way out my door and walked across our
connecting paths to her house.

It was probably stupid going out on a date with

my neighbor. When things inevitably got fucked up,
I’d have to see her often. I was going to try and
take a chance, though, even if that chance screwed
with everything. So, here we were.

I knocked on her door, waited a beat, and

sucked in a breath when she opened it.

“My God,” I said, surprising myself. She

grinned, her light eyes bright and full of sin.

She wore a black dress that clung to her body,

covered her shoulders, and went down low in the
front, so low that I wasn’t even sure she could be
wearing a bra. And that didn’t bother me in the
least.

The fabric clung to her curves, all the way

down past her butt to mid-thigh, with a slight slit up
the side that showed even more delicious leg.

The dress was a smooth black with some lace

cut-outs in strategic places. It wouldn’t look overly
tempting to anyone but possibly me.

Other than the front part that showed off some

lovely cleavage, the cut was quite conservative
compared to some of the dresses that I knew we’d
be seeing tonight at the club. Yet, with every
movement she made, I could taste the seduction
and promise in her wake, and I knew tonight would
be interesting.

“Wow. I love your makeup. And your suit. Just

the whole getup. You look fucking amazing.”

“I was just thinking the same about you.”
I smiled, a little self-consciously, and raised my

hand to my face before stopping myself before I
touched my makeup.

“I, uh, might have used your tutorial. I wasn’t

going to tell you that, but here I am. I tried.”

Zia’s eyes widened, and I swore they went

glassy for a minute as if she were about to cry.
Then she smiled big, her bright red lips looking
biteable. “That is amazing. If you’ll let me, I’d love
to take photos for my website. That’s stupid,
though, because that’s the job, and we’re on a
date.”

I could feel my face warm. “I’m not hiding

anything, not anymore. So, if you need to take a
couple of photos throughout the night, go for it. Just
don’t let me be drunk or stupid on social media
because I don’t want to lose my job.”

Zia’s eyes widened. “I would never. I have to

be watchful with the persona I put on social media,
and I’m always cautious with my friends, too.
Bristol has to be super vigilant with her job,
considering the masses that follow her as it is with
her career. Plus, her brother? The formal model-
turned-bestselling-author? And Aaron? The famous
artist? They’re all on my social media from time to
time, and I’m very careful with them.”

“You’re going to have to tell me more about

this family,” I said, leading her to my car. “They
sound interesting.”

“You don’t even know the half of it. I mean,

you know Aaron, but I figured you would know the
others.”

I shook my head as I led her to the car, closed

the door behind her, and ran around the front to
slide into the driver’s seat. “I don’t, oddly enough. I

dated Aaron, or whatever we did before my
marriage, and then we sort of lost touch during it
all.” I waved my hand at the questions on her face.
“I don’t want to get into too much of that, if it’s
okay.”

“I understand.”
And I figured she did, at least with what she

had mentioned about her ex. So, I wouldn’t pry,
and she wouldn’t either. And we would set the
perfect boundaries that we needed.

“Anyway, Aaron told me a bit about his family,

but we usually talk about work or books.”

“So, you read romance, too?” she asked.
“I love it. And if you’re going to shame me for

it, I will kick you out of this car.” I winked as I said
it since I had a feeling that Zia didn’t degrade
anyone.

“Are you kidding me? We are avid readers,

although I’m a huge fan of audiobooks.”

“I got into them in the past couple of years, too.

They’re great for the commute.”

“I don’t have a commute as much these days,”

Zia said with a laugh. “My studio’s in my house. Or
I’m in the process of making one, at least.
However, I like to walk around and do my chores
and things while listening to a book. Makes it easy
for me to get my steps in while listening to a very
steamy narrator.”

“I usually listen to a podcast or something when

I’m at home, but I should try listening to more
books. My reading list is ridiculous at this point.”

“Tell me about it.”
“So, I was thinking Z’s for a drink. And then we

can head to that club you were talking about.”

“That sounds perfect. I had a late lunch, so I’m

not starving for dinner.”

“I did the same. And then I had a snack just in

case,” I said with a laugh.

“Makes sense. There’s a diner right outside the

campus that has amazing food when you’re starving
after dancing. Like at ten o’clock at night.”

“You remember when it used to be like two

o’clock in the morning?” I asked, pulling into the
parking lot of the bar.

“Yeah, I’m not a teenager anymore. Or even

twenty-one. Not that I did much of that when I was
in school. I had too much homework.”

“Me, too. What’s your degree in?” I asked as

we got out of the car.

Zia shrugged, looking a little self-conscious, and

I wondered what I’d said. “Psychology.”

My brows rose, and I could have kicked myself

for the look that overtook her face. “That’s
awesome. I can tell that you have a message you’re
trying to get across when you talk about inner
beauty and things like that. It makes sense that you
have a basis for it.”

“Yeah, I wanted to be a makeup artist full-time,

but my parents wanted me to go towards something
that could make money,” she said with a laugh. “I
sort of met between the two. I love what I do, I
love my degree, and I’m still trying to figure out
how to blend it all into a full-time career.”

“I’m the weird one who liked math and likes

being an accountant. I may not know much about
what I want to do with the rest of my life, but the
whole job thing? I love it.”

“We need people like you, who know what

they’re doing. That way, people like me can flutter
about and try different things and hope to hell
you’re there to catch us when we fall.”

I smiled at her then, falling hard. “That sounds

like a plan. Because, sometimes, I’m going to trip
up. But who’s going to be there when I fall?” I
asked, not meaning to say the words that were
already out.

“I guess that’s what people like us are there for.

To be there when the others fall. Or maybe this is
getting too deep, and we should go have a martini
and then go dance.”

I wondered where our conversation would go if

we let it. But she was right. We didn’t need to get
so serious.

“I want an old fashioned, not a martini.”
“I thought you had vodka when I first saw you

at the bar last time. With Aaron. So, you’re a
whiskey girl?”

“I’m a mixed girl. I’m just really in the mood

for something delicious.”

I hadn’t meant to say the words as seductively

as I did, but when Zia’s tongue darted out to lick
her lips, I swallowed hard again, and did my best
not to reach out to grab her, to taste her.

There was a connection between us for sure, a

sultry one that begged for more. But I wasn’t going
to act on it yet.

I’d at least give myself an hour or two.
Zia grinned at the bartender as we made our

way in, and I gave her a look.

“I know his husband. We went to school

together,” she said, and I nodded, then sat down
next to her at the bar. The place was packed, but
thankfully, there were two seats on the corner. Not
the best place for a view, but that was fine, I wasn’t
here for anybody else. I was here for Zia.

And myself, if I were honest.
Zia ordered a pomegranate martini, while I got

my old fashioned, and when we took our first sip, I
held back a moan. “This might be the best thing
I’ve ever had in my life,” I said.

“They use a cedar plank in the back and a

blowtorch and use the smoke in the glass.”

“Are you serious?” I asked while taking another

sip and closing my eyes. This time, I did moan. “It’s
amazing.”

“I know, right? They sometimes do it up here,

but with so many people, they don’t like to have
the blowtorch out.”

“I could see that being a problem, but wow. I’m

going to have to come back here.”

“I thought you had been here before,” she

stated.

I shook my head. “One of the guys at the firm

mentioned this, and I figured it sounded like a good
place. And when your eyes lit when I brought it up,
I assumed I had made the right choice.”

“You assumed correctly.”
We clinked our glasses together again, our gazes

never leaving one another, and I had to wonder if I
was making a mistake.

Because I was having too much fun. This was

too easy.

And things that started off so easily, usually

ended up badly for everybody involved. At least in
my history.

We finished our drinks, had a huge glass of

water afterward, and then made our way to the
club. The bouncer let us in right away, past the line
of men and women glaring at us.

“I take it you know him, too?” I asked,

laughing.

Zia shrugged and handed over her coat to the

coat check person. “I know a lot of people. And
they like me. Usually.” She winked, and I shook my
head, handing over my coat, as well.

We each took our small bags, then went back

out, straight to the dance floor. We didn’t need
drinks, didn’t need the intoxication of liquor in our
systems.

No, the music and the people around us did that

for us.

Zia had her hands on my hips, and I had mine

on hers, each of us dancing, laughing, swaying to
the music. She brushed up against me occasionally,
and I held back a groan, wanting more, but
knowing we were in public. Besides, I didn’t want
to move too quickly.

The beat shocked my system, the music

pounding into my body as I rubbed against Zia. And
then I laughed and moved around, keeping a
distance between us every so often. Others would
join us, would smile at Zia and want to hug her.
Men and women tried to pull her away, and she
would simply roll her eyes, gently tug, and move
towards me, putting her hand on the small of my
back to lay claim. I did the same, giving her hip a
squeeze.

Others looked at us with greedy eyes, as if

wanting to join us. But not tonight. Most likely, not
ever.

No, tonight I didn’t want to share. Tonight, I

just wanted to live and be.

And when my feet started to hurt, my heels too

tall, and Zia let out a sigh, running her hand through

her hair, I pulled her off the dance floor and
towards the coat check. “How about a greasy diner
burger and fries?” I asked her.

“Thank God. I was going to stay out there and

dance longer because I could probably last to two
a.m., but then I wouldn’t be able to walk
tomorrow.”

“Oh, to be twenty again,” I said, looking across

the dance floor.

“Well, I’m not sure if I liked being twenty. The

energy, yes. But everything else?” Zia shook her
head.

“Same for me,” I said, and we took our coats

and moved out to my car.

The diner was as good as Zia had said, and I

made a note of it to remember next time I came
out.

The burger buns were perfectly toasted, the

meat at the right temp and thickness. We each got
our own, me a mushroom and Swiss, her a
cheeseburger with extra pickles. And we shared a
basket of fries and ketchup.

I hadn’t had this much greasy food in a while,

but I had burned enough calories during the night
while dancing. Hopefully. Frankly, I didn’t care. I
could die for this hamburger.

I hadn’t realized I had said that out loud until

Zia laughed, leaned forward, and rested her head
on my shoulder. An older couple glared at us, and I

rolled my eyes, kissing the top of Zia’s head.

The older couple shifted away, turning and

grumbling to one another before getting up from
their table.

“Hey, we could be gals being pals,” Zia said,

lifting her head with a mischievous smile on her
face.

“Totally. Just like in all those historical photos

when women were in bed together completely
naked and cuddling. Gals being pals.”

At my description, Zia’s throat worked hard as

she swallowed, and she licked her lips again.

“Totally gals being pals,” she said, her voice

breathy.

“Do you want me to get the check?” I asked.
“I really think you need to get the check,” Zia

said, her voice steady, yet filled with need.

And so, I got the check, wanting more, needing

more, and genuinely nervous. Though I didn’t care.
Because I needed to know what she tasted like.

I needed to know what she felt like against me.
I just needed to know.

C H A P T E R 5

Zia

f one could become intoxicated on lust
and promise, I’d have gone to my knees
hours ago. As it was, I stood in my

living room in front of Meredith, our clothes on, our
bodies a breath apart, and knew if I stood here
much longer, I’d be down on my knees anyway.

How I could be here in this moment so quickly,

I didn’t know, but I didn’t dare wonder what could
have been.

Instead, I wanted to breathe, to live, and to

forget my worries and finally fall into the
temptation that was Meredith’s taste.

“Let me kiss you?” I asked, my breath shaky.
“You have to ask?” Meredith leaned forward,

her eyes dark, her mouth parted.

“Of course, I do. I don’t want to do anything

neither of us is ready for.”

The woman in front of me laughed, the sound

going right to my core. “How about this? Anything
for tonight is wanted. Needed. We see where it
goes, then wonder what could happen in the
morning. You don’t need to ask. Now fucking kiss
me, Zia.”

And so, I did.
She was soft.
Supple.
Achingly perfect.
And I needed more.
She tasted of whiskey and delight. Of promise

and heartbreak.

And I craved her.
Meredith slid her fingers into my hair, and I

angled my head back, opening my mouth for more.
She bit at my lip, and I grinned, holding back a
laugh as she licked away the sting.

“You taste like our evening,” Meredith said, her

voice low.

“Should I ask you if you want to see how the

rest of me tastes?” I asked, daring, teasing.

“I think we should figure that out.” Her eyes

went bright with need this time, her cheekbones

stained pink.

I knew the look in her eyes matched mine, and I

swallowed hard, needing more. Needing the woman
in front of me.

And so, I kissed her again, wrapping my arms

around her shoulders. She slid her hands down my
back, moving slowly along my curves until she
cupped my ass, squeezing tightly. I swallowed hard,
exploring her mouth, letting my arms fall to gently
graze along her shoulders. I needed her jacket off
so I could touch her skin.

She pulled back, rolled her shoulders a bit, and

let her gorgeous leather jacket fall to the floor.

I did the same with mine, and then she was

kissing me more, her hands exploring. When her
fingertips moved to the hem of my dress and slowly
danced along the skin of my upper thigh, I moaned,
letting my head fall back. She used the motion to
latch on to my neck, a gentle kiss, a lick, a scrape
of teeth. I moaned again, needing more, and so I
tugged at her shirt, pulled it out of her pants, and let
my fingers slide up her back, gently trailing along
her soft skin.

“I’ve wanted you out of this dress since I first

saw you in it,” Meredith whispered into my ear
before biting my earlobe.

“Hate the dress that much?” I teased.
“No, I’ve been wet for you since I saw you in

it,” she said, her voice a purr. “I want to fuck you

in this dress. And fuck you out of it. And, honestly,
just fuck you.”

I groaned, sliding my thighs together, needing

the friction. Meredith let out a throaty laugh.

“That’s my girl,” she whispered, and then her

mouth was on mine again, and I was lost.

She licked at my tongue, and I kissed her

harder, my hands going up her back to the lacy
strap of her bra. I played with the elastic, needing
her skin, and to touch her. When her fingers slid my
dress up even higher then wrapped around to my
butt, I groaned.

“Were you not wearing panties the whole

evening?” she asked.

A nod. “I couldn’t wear a bra with this dress

either,” I said, and she groaned.

“You are going to be the death of me,” she

whispered and then slipped her fingers between my
cheeks. I groaned, wanting to spread my legs, but
needing the friction, as well.

“Already so wet for me,” she whispered, slowly

diving deep between my thighs.

I let out a shocked gasp, the sensation too

much, and she wasn’t even fully touching me.

When she slowly spread my cheeks, feeling my

wetness, my mouth went dry, and I arched for her,
needing more.

“That’s it. That’s what you need. Do you need

me? You have my hands. Do you want my mouth?”

“I don’t know. I need it all.”
“That’s my girl.” She kissed me again before

going down to her knees in front of me.

I swallowed hard and looked down at her, her

blond hair a little messy from my hands. She
grinned before putting both hands on either side of
my thighs and shoving my dress up over my hips.

“Jesus,” I whispered, a laugh in my throat.
“I think that’s my line,” Meredith said before

tapping either side of my thighs. “Now, spread your
legs for me. Just a bit. I need to see what I’m
working with.”

“You’re going to be the one ordering me

around?” I asked, complying. The coolness of the
room caressed my achingly hot pussy, and I let out
a groan, not only from the sensation of the
temperature difference but from the heat of her
gaze raking along my skin.

“When I’m on my back later, you can take

control. But for now, I think I need a taste.”

At that mental visual, Meredith leaned forward,

and I slid my fingers into her hair, tightening my
grip ever so slightly. She hummed in approval and
then slowly licked me.

My knees went weak, and I was afraid I would

fall in my heels, but thankfully, the couch was near.
I leaned back, gripping the edge of it with all my
might.

She lapped at me, spreading me with her tongue

and flicking the tip against my clit. She had one
hand on my thigh, keeping me steady, and she used
the other to spread me even wider, lapping me up.

“So pretty and pink,” she whispered against me

before alternating hot air and cool breaths along my
wet heat.

I shook, arching my back for her.
“You taste so sweet. Like peaches.” She

hummed before slowly penetrating me with a single
finger. I arched for her, shaking.

“You’re going to make me come right here and

now. Are you sure you don’t want to wait until
later?”

“I think I can make you come more than once

tonight. However, you best know I’m expecting the
same,” she said, and I laughed.

“Oh, I think I can make that happen,” I said,

shaking right along with her.

And then she kept licking, touching, and I

moved my hands to her hair again, needing to touch
her, needing everything.

When my toes curled, and my back arched

once more, I came, my knees shaking. I almost fell.
Then she was on her feet, her lips on mine, her
arms holding me steady.

“I can taste myself on you,” I whispered.
“Now I want to taste myself,” she whispered

against my mouth.

“Then we’d better get to the bedroom where I

can lay out and taste you exactly the way I want,” I
said, feeling far more daring than I had in months.
Maybe even years.

I had been with both men and women in my life

and enjoyed making love with both. I loved the
human form, enjoyed the taste, the touch, the
differences in everybody’s body and how
everything changed from day to day, from arch to
gasp.

It was all wonderful, and yet tonight felt

different.

And because I had that thought, I quickly

pushed it from my mind.

“Show me the way,” Meredith said, holding out

her arm.

We were both disheveled, my dress still above

my waist, my heels firmly on my feet. Neither of us
would be wearing anything for much longer,
though.

I took her hand and led her towards my

bedroom, swaying my hips just enough that I knew
she was staring right at my ass. I laughed.

“Well, this isn’t exactly how I thought I’d be

wearing my dress tonight,” I said, being completely
honest.

“I’ll be honest and say I kind of had this image

in my head when I saw you in it.”

I threw my head back and laughed, and then

she pushed me against the door to my bedroom, the

wood cool against my bare skin, and ravaged my
mouth. I arched for her, needing her touch, and I
tugged at her shirt.

“You’re far too clothed. I’ve wanted to see

your breasts fully since I first saw you in the
backyard.

“You know, I still haven’t seen yours.”
And then she took a step back and shoved my

dress off my shoulders. It was a tangle of fabric
around my waist now, but then she had her mouth
on my breasts, her hands and her tongue and her
teeth and everything. I arched for her, my knees
shaking again.

“No fair,” I gasped.
“You’re the one who isn’t fair in that dress.”
“I’m not wearing much of it now.”
She held my breasts in her hands, a heavy

weight in each of her palms.

“How on earth did you dance tonight without

wearing a bra? You are all curves and sin, lady.”

I winked at her. “The dress has a built-in bra of

sorts. And let me say that my nipples are going to
ache for the next week because of what I wore.”

Meredith winked. “Well, I’m pretty sure I can

help you with your nipples if you want.”

“I did leave that line open for you, didn’t I?”
“I’m just saying, I can kiss them and make them

better.”

“I still haven’t seen your breasts. I’m just

saying. This is very one-sided, me standing here in
roughed-up fabric and high heels that are hurting
my feet.”

Concern washed over Meredith’s face. “Well

then, let’s get you completely naked. And then I
will indeed kiss and make it better.”

“Let me do the same for you.”
“Anything,” she whispered, and I wished that

was the case. It wasn’t. This was only for one night.
And I would be fine with that. I didn’t need
anything more.

I moved my gaze from hers, afraid that she

would see something in my eyes that would scare
us both.

I reached up to the collar of Meredith’s shirt

and slid my hands down to smooth it.

“I like this shirt. I should have complimented

you on it before, but I got distracted by your eyes
and your hair and your smile and the way you
talked.” I was rambling, and I wasn’t sure that I
liked it.

“And I should have mentioned the fact that I

had a wonderful time tonight, including having my
mouth on your heat. But I got distracted by the
dress.”

“Okay, then,” I whispered, my breath coming in

pants. And then with my gaze on hers, I slowly
unbuttoned her shirt.

She wore a lacy white bra underneath, one that

made her skin look tan and lickable.

“This is what I wanted to see,” I said, a grin on

my face. “Well, I do feel like I’m a present being
unwrapped on my birthday.”

“Should I make a birthday suit joke about

presents, or should I get on with the kissing?”

“Please, for the love of God, get with the

kissing.”

I leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss

between her breasts, and she moaned. The shirt fell
to the floor, and I worked on her pants, both of us
falling out of our shoes. And then my dress was on
the floor beside us, and I was waiting for more.

“Yay for white lace panties,” I said.
“Well, I was thinking of going gray, but then it

would have shown through the shirt, and I didn’t
feel like wearing an undershirt.”

Now she was the one rambling.
“I don’t mind,” I said before pressing my lips to

the lace over her mound.

She moaned, tugging at my hair, and I looked

up, grinning.

“On the bed,” she ordered.
“I thought you said I could be in charge this

time.”

“I lied. We can share.”
And then she used that incredibly beautiful

strength of hers and lifted me up, practically tossing
me onto the bed.

She reached around her back, undid her bra,

and shoved her panties down. I laughed before
practically swallowing my tongue at the sight of her
dark red nipples, hard little buds on her very
delicious breasts.

“Well, then,” I whispered. And then she was

over me, her lips on mine, her hands roaming down
my body.

We played with each other’s breasts, pressing

them together, licking and sucking. She was on her
side, and I was practically on top of her, nipping
and wanton, my thigh in between hers.

I rubbed my leg along her wetness, using the

friction to make her pant.

“Oh my God,” she whispered.
“You can call me Zia,” I said with a laugh. And

then she wrapped her hand around my throat,
forcing my face to hers, and kissed me hard. I
increased the friction of my thigh.

When I slid my hand over her stomach and in

between her legs to play with her clit and her heat,
she shook before coming hard, the rapture of bliss
on her face something I would never forget.

We kept kissing, playing, both of us watching

our faces as we made each other come. We could
barely catch our breath, both of us hot and needing.

When I ached, needing more, she slid her thigh

along my heat, the friction enough to make me
erupt.

And then we held each other, our bodies lazily

pressed against one another, sweat-slick and sated.

“Wow,” I whispered, embarrassed.
Meredith laughed, kissed me on the forehead,

and looked down at me. “That was my line.”

“I, um, I don’t usually do this on the first date,”

I said, my body cooling as the awareness of our
situation slid over me.

She frowned but nodded. “Me, either. But here

we are.”

We kissed again, slowly, leisurely. We had

nowhere to go, at least for the next few moments.
So, I would simply savor.

Her fingers trailed over my breasts, over my

scars, and I noticed she had a few of her own. But
we didn’t talk about it.

There was no need. We could keep our secrets

because this wasn’t serious. It couldn’t be. This was
only a respite, an evening of moments.

When I started to doze off, I shook my head

and let out a sigh, knowing that we both needed to
clean up. And so, we stood up, and she slowly
dressed, and I pulled on black lounge pants and a
tank top, not bothering to put on my dress again.

“I wasn’t planning on this,” I said. “I thought

we would have fun tonight, but I wasn’t planning
on what happened tonight past dinner. I was
supposed to heal, to find myself. I wasn’t supposed
to find...I don’t know. Fun? Whatever this is.”

Meredith tilted her head as she buttoned up her

pants and nodded. “Same here. So now what do we
do?”

I swallowed hard. “I don’t know. But it seems

that all I do these days is run, and I feel like running
from this room right now will hurt.”

“I’m not ready for serious,” Meredith said

quickly, staring at me as if willing me to understand.

And I did. Even though something broke inside

me to think that, a slight pang that I ignored. I
wasn’t ready for serious either, so her words
shouldn’t hurt. And they didn’t. Not really. I was
just caught up in the orgasms, and I hadn’t really
focused yet.

“That’s fine with me. I promise. This was fun.

And if we do it again, we can continue to have fun
as friends. Until it’s time to walk away.”

I said the words as if I felt cold inside, as if I

weren’t overwhelmed with emotion.

Relief spread across her face, and I tried not to

take it personally.

“That sounds like a plan to me.” And then she

leaned forward, cupped my face, and kissed me
softly.

“Goodnight, Zia. I’ll see you across the fence.”
I smiled, trying to act as if my world hadn’t

been rocked to its foundation, and watched her
walk away, knowing I needed to escort her to the
door but unable to move from the spot.

Because I had no idea what had happened

tonight. What I did know was that something had
changed, and I knew I had to pretend that it
hadn’t.

For both our sakes.

“H

C H A P T E R 6

Meredith

ow dare you do this to me? Who
the hell do you think you are? You
deserve

everything

that

ever

happened to you, and I’m going to make sure more
happens. Because you’re going to scream. You’re
going to bleed. And you’re going to miss everything
that I ever gave you.”

Hands dug into my skin, pinched my flesh. Cold

liquid splashed over my body, a towel over my
face, water choking me. And then there were hands
in my hair, tugging me towards the shower, forcing
my face into the water again. I couldn’t breathe,

couldn’t do anything.

And then I was awake, wondering how the hell

I had let myself be like that again. How the hell I
had let that dream come back.

I let out a shaky breath and looked down at my

hands, knowing that they were mine and not the
ones that attempted to kill me. That dared to try
and hurt me.

I couldn’t quite believe that the dream had been

so vivid, and yet I should. I should be used to the
vividness of my demise. I had let it become my
truth and reality when I was married to Ash. And
now, I was dreaming about it.

Why? It had been months since I’d had a

nightmare about him. Months where I had thought I
was healthy again, thought I had found my truth
and my healing.

Clearly, I had been wrong. So achingly wrong

that I had to rush out of my bed at that moment and
throw myself into the bathroom, down on my knees
as I heaved up everything that I had left in my
stomach—though there wasn’t much.

Sweat coated my body, and my hands shook, so

I fisted them at my sides before pushing my hair
back from my face. Then, I cleaned up after
myself.

It had been a while since Ash had made me

throw up.

Maybe I deserved this.

I had found a little bit of happiness, joy in this

past month. So much that I didn’t understand how
it had even happened.

I stood in the shower now, warm water sliding

over my body, a stark contrast from my dream. This
feeling was far different than the cold that had
threatened to kill me before.

The sensation that Ash had loved when he tried

to break me, screams ripping out of my throat,
death coming.

It had been a month since I had first said yes to

Zia. A month, and now I didn’t know how to
breathe, didn’t know how to think.

Because this couldn’t be real, couldn’t be

happening.

We were just having fun and would continue

having fun. That was all she wanted, as well. I had
to let my subconscious do its thing but not fall into
that trap.

Nothing that I had with Zia even resembled

what I’d had with Ash. Ash had been an abuser, a
controller, a chameleon beneath the surface.

I’d thought he loved me. Instead, he wanted to

control me.

I had pulled away when I was able, but perhaps

it hadn’t been quick enough.

And that was on me, even if my therapist and I

agreed that it couldn’t all be on my shoulders, I still
had to take some responsibility. I had ignored the

warning signs, thinking that I was so much better
than those who could fall for an abuser.

Or maybe I had been blind to it all.
I made a mental note to call my therapist again

because I didn’t like where my thoughts were
leading.

Was this all because of Zia? Because I was

letting myself feel? I couldn’t blame her, because
that would be wrong on many levels, but I still felt
like perhaps I should be smarter than this. Maybe I
shouldn’t see her again.

It didn’t matter that we’d had sex in her bed, in

mine, in my shower, and on her couch. It didn’t
matter that the two of us had gone out to dinner a
few times, had laughed and made plans for later
tonight. It didn’t matter that we’d both said that this
was just casual, only fun.

My dreams were anything but casual and fun.
And while it wasn’t Zia’s fault, and I would

never blame her, it was still my fault for letting
myself fall into the temptation that was Zia
Clarkson.

I washed the conditioner out of my hair and

then rinsed off before jumping out of the shower
and looking down at my phone as it buzzed again. I
hadn’t heard it the first time, and it seemed I had
missed a call. I answered this time, running a towel
over my body.

“Hey there, Aaron.”

“You’re coming with me to lunch,” Aaron

ordered. I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t
see me.

“You are very good at ordering me around, and

yet, has it ever worked? Ever?”

“You’re right. It has never worked. But I enjoy

trying. Mostly because I know you’ll do what you
want. However, you have said no to my lunch date
three times now, and I’m starting to take it
personally.”

I snorted. “I said no because I had meetings all

day.”

“But you’re off today.”
“I am. And I don’t have plans yet. Other than

to change the water filter in my fridge.”

“That’s really on your calendar?” He laughed,

and I couldn’t help the smile on my face.

“It is, but it’s not going to take me the whole

afternoon. I’d love to have lunch with you.”

“Are you doing okay? You’re usually a lot

snarkier before I get you to go out with me.”

“I just woke up. Leave me alone.”
“Now that’s the Meredith I know and love.”
“Asshole,” I said, laughing. I was standing

naked in my bathroom, my hair wet, and a smile on
my lips.

I wished that Aaron and I had been right for

each other. He was such a great friend, and always
made me laugh. We weren’t suited. It would’ve

been easier if we were.

The fact that Zia’s face filtered through my

mind at that instant worried me. But it shouldn’t.
Zia and I would end up friends, like Aaron and I
had.

That’s what I was good at—making friends

after hiding for so long.

I couldn’t let myself fall any more than I

already had.

“Where do you want to meet?”
“How about we do a brunch thing instead of

lunch? We can go to the Boulder Bean.”

“I love that place. They have great pastries.”
“And sandwiches. We can mix it all up. A

friend of a friend owns the place.”

“A friend of a friend?” I asked.
“A friend of a friend of someone in the family,

who might also be a friend of the friend. I don’t
know. I’m very confused.”

“You have confused me beyond confusion,” I

said, laughing.

“Either way, I know the person now, and we’ve

adopted her into our family.”

“You can’t just adopt people into your family

whenever you feel like it,” I said.

“We adopted you, didn’t we?”
“No, you didn’t.”
“One day, you will be a Montgomery. And you

won’t even realize it happened. You’ll only be

signing a check, and oh my gosh, where did that
new last name come from?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re ridiculous.

Why hasn’t anyone caught you yet?”

There was silence on the line for a minute, and I

was afraid that I had fucked up.

“You know I don’t like to get pinned down,” he

teased.

“Sure, whatever you say.” I knew Aaron

wanted love, romance, and a future, only he hadn’t
found it yet. Anyone who caught him would be
blessed, indeed.

“Anyway, I’ll see you at brunch today?” Aaron

said, and I let out a sigh.

“See you then.”
I hung up, looked at myself in the mirror, and

figured I should probably take my time to do my
hair and makeup since I had a date with Zia tonight,
too.

A date with a woman I’d promised myself

wouldn’t be serious. And yet, it seemed it was
getting too serious.

I was going to brunch with Aaron later, and

that wasn’t serious at all. We were only friends.
Friends that had slept together once and wouldn’t
do it again. And Zia and I were friends that were
currently sleeping together, but when that ended,
we wouldn’t do it again either, and hopefully, we
would remain friends.

I didn’t need serious. Somehow, if I found

serious, I knew I would ruin it all.

I always did.
I was dressed and ready to go, my water filter

changed. I put all thoughts of seriousness and
relationships out of my head. I had other things to
worry about than a nonexistent relationship with a
woman I enjoyed but didn’t want anything serious
with.

Aaron was already seated at a table by the

window, talking with a woman with short, spiky, red
hair and a woman with dark, glorious, chestnut
brown hair.

“Well, we have extra tickets if you’d like to join

us,” one of them said, and I held back a snort. Of
course. Aaron couldn’t walk around without
somebody hitting on him. It was what he was used
to, what I was used to with him, for that matter.

Aaron smiled, but there was strain at his eyes,

and I didn’t know where it originated from. “Sorry,
ladies, my date’s here.” His gaze met mine, willing
me to go along with it, and I held back a sigh before
going to him, kissing his cheek, and running my
hands through his hair. I knew he was grimacing,
even if he was smiling at the same time, because I
was messing up his hair.

“Hey there, baby boo.”
“Oh. You’re with him?” one of the women

asked.

“Yes, but I do loan him out every once in a

while. If the price is right.”

“Really?” the redhead purred, and Aaron

reached around and gripped my thigh, pinching me
just enough to make me swallow a squeal.

“I’m not for sale, ladies. Despite what my

woman here says. Isn’t that right, pumpkin ass?”

“Pumpkin ass?” one of the women said before

she giggled. They waved goodbye, whispering to
each other as they walked off.

“Pumpkin ass?”
“You were trying to sell me to the lowest

bidder, I needed a good name for that,” he said.

“I thought it was the highest bidder so I could

make some money?” I said, kissing him on the
temple for real before taking a seat across from
him.

“Well, I assumed you’d want to make me

degrade myself completely, so I went with lowest.”

“You’re not wrong there,” I said, laughing. “So,

why couldn’t you tell the women you weren’t
interested?”

“I tried. But they wouldn’t listen because they

thought I was teasing. And I’m pretty sure they
both asked me out. Together.”

“Well, they were pretty.”
“And a good decade younger than me.”
“They were in their teens?” I asked.
“Pretty sure they’re barely eighteen but dressed

to make themselves look older. I’m not going to jail
if they’re under eighteen.”

“Oh, wow. I did not catch that.”
“Yeah, but now they’re probably going back to

their senior class, or their freshman college class, to
tell them about the woman who’s selling off men.”

“It’ll be a story.”
“Sure, but if I meet them again, I’m still not for

sale.”

“So you say,” I said with a laugh before

changing the subject. “I love it here. I’ve only been
here a few times, though. Mostly because I haven’t
been back in town for long enough.”

“I’m glad you’re back, Meredith,” Aaron said,

turning serious for a minute.

Echoes of the dream washed through me, but I

smiled and pretended like nothing was wrong.

“Of course, I’m back. I’ll always come back for

my honey boo. That’s what pumpkin asses do,” I
said, narrowing my eyes at him. “We really aren’t
good at the whole cutesy name thing, are we?”

“Not even a little,” Aaron said, shaking his

head.

“Thanks for inviting me out to brunch,” I said.

“I’ve been in a funk.”

“Aren’t you dating the delectable Zia? How can

you be in a funk with her?”

“We’re not dating. We’re just hanging out.”
“Okay, no need to get testy.”

“Men say that to women to get them to shut up

and act like good little females. I don’t appreciate
it,” I said.

“I’m saying it to you because I didn’t mean to

anger you. And don’t lie and say you’re not angry
or worried or whatever the hell is going through
your head. Because something’s there, and if you
don’t want to talk about it, fine. But don’t lie to me
and say that everything is okay.”

“Fine, I won’t lie to you, but I’m also not going

to talk about it.”

“Okay, then. I’m here if you need me. You

know that.”

“Same here, but I don’t need you.”
“Okay.”
There was an awkward silence, and I didn’t

know what to say. I knew I was acting like a bitch,
but I didn’t know what to think about Zia. And I
didn’t really want to think about her right now, so I
wasn’t going to say anything. Even if I hurt one of
the only people who actually cared about me.

“Aaron?” a familiar voice said, and I looked up

to see his sister Bristol walking towards the table.
“I was just coming in for a scone and saw you guys
here. Hi there, Meredith. It’s great to see you
again.”

“Bristol,” I said, smiling at the other woman.
“I swear we don’t always see each other when

we’re out and about,” Aaron said, laughing at the

look on my face. “It is only coincidence because
we happen to know the woman who owns the
Boulder Bean.”

“A friend of a friend,” Bristol said, and I held

up my hands.

“Aaron tried to explain earlier, and it gave me a

headache. No need to elaborate.”

“Anyway, it’s great to see you.” Bristol bit her

lip.

“Is there something you wanted to say?” I

asked, worried.

“No, I just…it really is good to see you. And

Zia doesn’t tell me anything because she’s so
private about certain things, but she’s smiling, and I
wanted to thank you for that. And now I’m going to
shut up because I don’t want to ruin anything. You
guys have a wonderful day.” She waved and then
scurried off to the front to order. I looked over at
Aaron and blinked.

“Sorry about that.”
“No need. I mean, it’s a small world.”
“We should go order our food, too. I just got

here to save the table since I happen to like this
spot the best.”

“I get it. Um. Just…is it okay if we don’t talk

about Zia?”

“You said that earlier, and I got you. It’s only

that Bristol and Zia are best friends, and they used
to date. There’s going to be some weirdness no

matter what when you see her.”

“Well, you and I went on a date, and we’re not

weird.”

“We’re weird naturally, so adding in the dating

thing or whatever we want to call what we had
because sometimes you refuse to use the D-word,
only adds to who we are.”

“Maybe,” I said, shaking my head. “Things are

getting far too serious in this conversation right
now. Let’s talk about you and your penchant for
having women throw themselves at you.”

Aaron laughed. “I am a perfect specimen. What

can I say? They can’t help themselves.”

“Dork,” I said, shaking my head before we

went up to order our food. Bristol waved at us on
her way out, giving me a bright-eyed look, and I
had to wonder why Zia didn’t talk to her about me.
Was it because I wasn’t serious enough? Or did she
think it was more serious than it actually was?

I was giving myself a headache thinking about it

and was glad that Aaron steered the conversation to
books and his next art piece. It was easier to think
about that than what the hell was going on with my
life.

By the time we finished our brunch, I felt a

little more relaxed, more like myself. Or at least as
much as I could be.

I still didn’t know what I was going to do about

Zia, but I wasn’t going to cancel tonight. I would

head over to her house soon so we could meet and
watch a movie.

I frowned, thinking about that.
That seemed awfully homey and cozy now that

I thought about it. And not so relaxing and sexy.

People didn’t have stay-at-home dates where

they watched movies and painted their nails or
whatever the hell we were doing tonight if they
weren’t serious, right?

“Fuck,”

whispered

myself.

“I’m

overreacting.”

I pushed all weird thoughts from my head, slid

on comfy black leggings and a tunic top—feeling a
little more girly than usual—and headed over to
Zia’s. I had picked up cheesecake bites from the
Boulder Bean, and I figured that was enough to last
the night, Or hopefully, the week. Though I would
probably eat them all myself if I could.

Zia answered after the first knock, her hair

done up beautifully, and her face clear of makeup.
She looked much like she had when I first saw her.

“Hey,” she whispered, leaning forward and

kissing me on the lips.

It felt like a normal action, as if we had done it

a thousand times. And it scared me. It shouldn’t,
but it did.

Zia seemed to catch my thoughts on my face,

and her smile fell a bit. I could have kicked myself.

“I brought cheesecake bites,” I said, leaning

forward to tug on her hair as I kissed her hard.

She sighed, and I knew I had done the right

thing. I couldn’t hurt her. Because we were only
having fun, and having fun meant not thinking so
hard and hurting people that you liked along the
way.

“Are these from the Boulder Bean?” Zia asked.
“Yep. Some of the best stuff I’ve ever had.”
“Oh my God, I’m so excited. Come on in. I

have Netflix queued up, though I have no idea what
we’re going to watch tonight.”

“Is this a Netflix and chill situation?” I asked.
“Do kids even say that anymore?”
“I don’t know what’s in nowadays. I barely

have social media.”

“I know, it’s going to be weird when, in a few

years, the music that we loved in high school is on
the oldies station.”

“I’m pretty sure some of it already is,” I said

seriously, and we both visibly shuddered before she
leaned forward and put a smacking kiss on my lips,
stealing the cheesecake from me.

“I made guacamole and a veggie tray. The

vegetables because I was going to drink wine, and I
figured I needed some health food, but now I
probably should’ve added more veggies considering
how much I’m going to gorge myself on this
cheesecake.”

“You’re going to have to save some for me.”

“You say that, but you brought it into my house

as a present, so I think it’s mine.” She gave me a
wicked grin. “Of course, you could always buy
them with sexual favors.”

“You know, I’m pretty sure I have ways to get

what I want when it comes to your pussy and that
cheesecake.”

She barked out a laugh, and I joined her,

shaking my head.

“I cannot believe you just said that,” she said.
“I can’t believe I did either. But here we are.

And I want some fucking cheesecake.”

“I guess you’re going to have to have pussy

first.”

I snorted and then wrapped my arms around her

waist before lifting her up off her feet. I twirled her
around the kitchen, and she laughed, pushing at my
shoulders.

“You’re going to drop me.”
“Maybe. But then I’d, you know, kiss you

where you fell.”

“Sure. I’d be the one bruised, though.”
I looked at her then, that seriousness washing

over me once more, but I ignored it.

Because this was fun.
We were friends.
Friends who joked around and ate cheesecake

and talked about eating pussy in the kitchen.

It couldn’t be anything more than that.

I wasn’t going to let it.
As her lips crashed onto mine, and I held her

tighter, needing more, I told myself that wasn’t a
lie.

I had never been good at lying.

“I

C H A P T E R 7

Meredith

still think it’s fucking hot,” I said,
knowing I was blushing.

Zia lifted up her shirt a bit more,

the underside of her breast peeking out. I
swallowed hard, knowing she needed time to heal,
and I shouldn’t pounce on her right then. But
damned if I didn’t want to.

“I love the shading that Maya did.” She looked

over her shoulder at me. “Thank you for coming
down to Denver with me to get it done.”

“Are you kidding me? It was a blast. I miss my

old artist, and I’ve heard such amazing things about

Montgomery Ink, but I can never get in.”

“And now that you know me, and I happen to

know a Montgomery, you are on the list.”

“I could have been on the list since I know

Aaron, you know.”

Zia rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’m your in.

Not him. Just saying.”

“I’m on the list with Callie,” I said absently.

“Who has the perfect style for me. Did you see that
koi fish she had on her back?”

“I did. She had on that tank top that showed so

much skin I was afraid you were going to fall right
off your stool.” Zia blinked.

“She was also like nine months pregnant and

hot, and her husband pretty much could break us
over his knees.”

“Is that a daddy kink I didn’t know you had?”

she asked, and I snorted, grateful I had set down
my glass of wine.

“He was all silver foxed with that gray and

white right at his temples. It was pretty hot. But no,
daddy kink is not my thing.”

“Oh, well.” Zia shrugged, her eyes filled with

mischief. “Anyway, you have four months until you
can get in with Callie, which is amazing. I
remember when Callie was still the apprentice
there. She’s doing so well for herself.”

“You’ve known the Montgomerys a long time,

then.”

“Yes. Through Bristol first, before I met the rest

of them down south. They’re all different, and
they’re one huge family that constantly adopts
people into their fold when needed.” Zia shrugged,
frowning. “They adopted me.”

“I’m glad they did. You have people.”
“Yeah. I need people.” She looked at me then,

and I wondered what she was going to say, but she
looked as if she shrugged it off before looking back
at the ivy along her ribcage.

“I wasn’t expecting you to get it so big.”
“That’s what she said,” Zia said offhandedly.
“Thanks for that. Now I’m going to have dick

jokes in my head for the rest of the evening.”

“I always have dick jokes in my head, it’s a

process,” Zia said, grinning back at me.

“So, what are you going to get?” she asked.
“I have three or four pieces on my docket, and

I’m still trying to see what fits me the most. Callie
and I are going to have a conference call where she
can go over some of the art again before I even sit
down with her. It’s pretty cool.”

“They’re the best of the best. They have a

family branch in Colorado Springs and in Denver,
and I’m trying to convince them to come up to
Boulder and even Fort Collins, where the other
cousins are.”

“There are that many?” I asked, laughing.
“There are probably more that haven’t even

been unearthed yet.”

“We do sort of take over the world.”
“You just said we as if you’re a Montgomery.”
Zia blushed. “Force of habit. I’m used to Aaron

and Bristol telling me I’m already part of the family
and join in on the jokes.”

“That makes sense to me. I already feel like

Bristol and Aaron are trying to get me to join
them.”

“Resistance is futile,” Zia said.
“So now they’re the Borg?” I asked with a

laugh.

“I think so, but they get a little testy when you

mention that.”

My lips quirked as I studied her lean lines and

subtle curves. “Seriously, that ivy’s gorgeous, it
looks like it’s real, dancing on your skin.”

“Because I’m a little swollen right now. It’s not

going to look as 3D when I’m not bleeding and
oozing plasma.”

“Sexy,” I grimaced.
“Movies tonight? Or are we still going out to

dinner?”

I looked up at Zia’s words and shrugged.

“Whatever you’re up for. You’re the one who was
on your side for hours getting that done.”

“I’m not tired. We can go out. I’ll have to wear

a different shirt so it’s not lying directly on the new
ink.”

“Okay. You can find something.”
“You know,” Zia said, her voice soft and

hesitant. “This is the sixth time this week we’ve
hung out. I’m surprised you aren’t tired of me yet.”

I didn’t freeze, but I did slow down a bit, not

knowing what to say.

I wasn’t ready for these types of questions, and

I was surprised that she had been the one to bring it
up. Maybe it was because we had spent so much
time together and had talked about family. I wasn’t
sure, but I hadn’t told her everything about my
past, and I didn’t know all of hers. And I wasn’t
sure if I would ever be ready to talk about that.
Though until I was, if I was, I wasn’t ready for a
serious relationship, even if it would be with Zia.

“I guess you’re okay,” I teased and noticed the

light dim in her eyes for a bare instant before it
came back as if I hadn’t seen anything.

I was truly a horrible person, but I had been

honest when I’d said that I wasn’t ready.

I needed time to figure out what I wanted, and

what she wanted. And I wasn’t good enough for her
yet. I wasn’t whole enough. I had thought we both
understood that, but I guess I had been wrong.

Now, I needed to figure out what the hell to do

about it.

“How about that Thai place?” Zia asked out of

the blue. I blinked, trying to come back to the
conversation.

“Thai place?”
“The Thai place. For dinner? We were just

talking about where to go. Unless you’d rather I go
home. It’s been a long day, a long drive, and all of
that to Denver and back. I didn’t know if you were
planning on spending the whole day away from the
house or not.”

I heard the easy out she’d left me in her voice,

and I hated that I had done that to her.

I was such a fucking bitch. I needed to get my

head on straight and figure out what I wanted.
Because if I didn’t do it soon, if I didn’t figure out
exactly what I needed, it would hurt her beyond
reason. And I would deserve whatever came to me.

In answer, I leaned forward, brushed my

knuckles across her cheek, and then kissed her
softly.

“I think Thai sounds great. But promise me I’ll

only eat half of my meal, and you’ll let me take the
rest home.”

I snorted. “Yeah. I don’t think I can do that.

You know I always overindulge with you.”

“Okay, fine. But you’re going to have to help

me roll out of the place.”

“I’m the one with the new ink. I shouldn’t be

rolling at all.”

I licked my lips and leaned forward, biting hers.
“We can always order in. And you can come.

We can always order in, and we can stay home.

And I could see exactly what you look like with
that ink. And only that ink.”

Zia let out a moan that went straight to my

pussy. “We’re going to have to be careful if we do
that.”

I didn’t know if she meant about the ink or her

heart.

Or mine.
I took another step closer to her, my lips a

breath from hers.

“Hi,” she whispered.
I smiled, licked my lips, kissed hers. “Hi.” I

stuck my hands in her back pockets, careful of her
new ink.

“Should we order first and see how many times

I can get you to come before the delivery boy
shows up?”

“I think that sounds like a plan. However, I’m

going to get you off, too,” Zia said with a wink.

I laughed, smacked her on the ass once she ran

away from me, and went to get the takeout menu.

We ordered way too much food, and I was

thankful because that meant I wouldn’t have to
cook for the next couple of days. I was just leaning
down to kiss her again when the doorbell rang.

She frowned and looked at me.
“Okay, I know their delivery is quick, but not

that quick. Our pants are still on.”

She pouted, and I shook my head. “I’ll see who

it is. Probably somebody trying to sell me
something.”

“You need a no soliciting sign.”
“That doesn’t help. Believe me.”
I went to the door and opened it, freezing and

knowing I should have looked through the
peephole. I had been so complacent. Had gotten so
used to happiness and warmth and the woman
behind me that I hadn’t stopped to think.

My nightmare stood before me, my past, my

present.

“Meredith? Who is it?”
“Ash,” I breathed.
“I knew I’d find you,” my ex-husband said, a

glare on his face, but his hands were in his pockets.

The same hands that had wrapped themselves

around my neck just once. But once was enough.

“I’m going to ask you again, what are you doing

here, Ash?”

“We need to talk. You didn’t let me talk after

the divorce. So, I thought I’d find you.”

“The fact that I had to hide myself pretty much

means I don’t want to talk to you. That you didn’t
need to find me.”

“You shouldn’t have run away. You were

mine.”

“Go away, Ash.”
I took a step back, ran into Zia, and cursed.
He used that moment to move forward and put

his hands on the door.

“Is this your bitch? I always knew you liked

pussy, but now you’re bringing whores home? Into
a home that should’ve been mine? You took my
money. You took everything from me. And now
you’re here, cheating on me with this piece of
trash?”

“Who the hell are you?” Zia asked, her chin

raised. I wanted to crawl into a hole and forget this
was even happening, but I couldn’t.

I also couldn’t get Zia out of here quick enough.
This was my shame, my bad choices.
I was the one who had made the decision to

stay with Ash. I was the one who had married him.

He was evidence of my terrible selections.
And now Zia was seeing them.
Perhaps she was the choice I knew I couldn’t

make.

“Go away, Ash. We’re not doing this.”
“You and me? We’re divorced. For a reason.

You and I used to live in a community property
state where we got half of everything. And I went
away.”

“You took some of my money since I made

more than you.”

“I thought that was ours, baby,” he snapped.
“Go home. Wherever you’re living now, you’re

not wanted here.”

“That’s not what you used to say to me when I

fucked you hard.”

“Okay, that’s enough. I’m calling the cops,” Zia

said.

“Call them. It’s only a disagreement between a

wife and her husband.”

“You’re not my husband. You’re my ex. And

Zia’s welcome to call the cops because I don’t want
you on my property. You have thirty seconds before
I remove you. Forcibly.”

“You always were a butch bitch.”
“Take your bigoted ass off my property. Go.

I’ve been done with you for a long time. I don’t
want you here.”

Ash snarled, but I lifted my chin again. “It’s

over. You lost. There’s no point to this. You’re
never going to win. You’re never going to get me
back. All you’re doing is showing me what a small
man you are.”

“You’re going to pay for those words.” His

breath was warm and putrid against my skin as he
leaned forward.

“Phone’s out,” Zia said, and I heard the fear in

her words. I hoped like hell Ash couldn’t.

He had scared Zia. Precious and sweet and

unflappable Zia.

And I would never forgive myself for that.
“Go away. Three, two…”
He didn’t make me finish. Instead, he turned on

his heel and walked away. I would call my lawyer

soon. I would figure out what I needed to do. I
wasn’t really sure what I was supposed to do next.
What was I supposed to say?

“He’s gone?” Zia said, sliding her hand around

my waist. I flinched, moving away from her, and I
watched her face fall, tears filling her eyes for an
instant before she blinked them away. She
swallowed hard and moved back.

“That was your ex?”
I closed the door after I made sure that Ash was

indeed gone and locked it up tight.

“Yes. That’s my ex-husband.” Heat flashed

over my skin, embarrassment covering my body.
“You should go,” I said quickly, knowing that I
needed to get her out of here. I needed to feel
something, needed to do something, and I couldn’t
do that when she was watching me.

I had to be the strong one. And I couldn’t do

that if she was here.

She looked as if I had slapped her.
“What? No. I’m not leaving. Let’s talk about

this.”

Fear made me speak next. “We don’t need to

talk about everything, Zia. What do you want to
know? That’s my ex-husband. He belittled me,
hated me in the end, and is a horrible human being.
And he also never liked to lose. He was the perfect
football player, the perfect athlete. He practically
never lost a game because his school had enough

money to get the best things. He never lost until he
got old enough for people to finally tell him that he
was wrong. And I didn’t see him for what he was
until it was almost too late. Apparently, he figured
out where I lived, and that’s something I’ll have to
deal with later. But it’s over. I made mistakes, as
you can tell.”

“I’m sorry. But you’re not responsible for his

mistakes.”

“I chose him. And I really don’t have good

taste from the looks of it.”

The barb hit, and I hadn’t meant it to. I had

only meant it to be about my failures, but once
again, Zia looked as if I had struck her.

“I’m going to let you deal with whatever you

need to because you’re lashing out at me.
Something you never do. And I don’t like it. No
one gets to treat me like that.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that to be aimed at

you. It’s just about my ex. But you should go
anyway. I need some time to think.”

“Maybe you do need time to think. But know

this, I care about you.”

I swallowed hard.
“This isn’t the time, Zia,” I said. I was so

fucking scared that she would tell me something
more. Something that would break me.

Because she was so amazing, so sweet,

practically perfect. And I was anything but.

“No. I get to say this. You can call me a bitch

later for making you listen. But I care about you.
And I’m falling in love with you. Imagine that. Me?
Falling in love again. Shocking, I know.”

I opened my mouth to say something, anything,

but she held up her hand.

“I need air. Because I don’t know what to do

about you. Or what you’re going to do. But you
need to think long and hard about what you want. I
know you said you didn’t want anything serious,
and I can see why after meeting that ex of yours.
But I’m not him. And you don’t need to punish me
or yourself for his shit. So, think about it. I need to
breathe.” And then she went to the door, unlocked
it, and walked away, leaving me standing there in
the doorway as our delivery man showed up with
our food, too much for one person.

And it was all my fault.
I deserved this. I deserved to be alone.
I was good at it.

C H A P T E R 8

Zia

stood on my front porch and watched
the delivery man walk away, entering
his car again, arms now devoid of food.

Our dinner was at Meredith’s house, and I

wasn’t there. I had left. Hurt, yes. But I had left.

I couldn’t believe that I had actually walked

away like that.

No, this was not happening. No way.
I swallowed hard and stomped my way back to

her house.

Meredith stood there, the bag of food in her

hand, her face pale, holding the edge of the door. I

didn’t know what to say.

“You came back,” Meredith said.
“That’s what Beast says to Belle before he dies.

Spoiler alert.”

Meredith frowned, and I didn’t blame her, I

wasn’t making any sense.

“I’m sorry?”
“You’re sorry because you have no idea what

I’m saying? Or are you really sorry?”

“I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of

that. But maybe this isn’t working out.”

“Fuck that. No. You and I are going to talk this

over. Do you get me?”

“Zia.”
“We’re putting the food in the fridge because I

don’t want it to go bad because it’s expensive and I
love it, and I refuse to ruin it.”

“Zia.”
“Don’t say my name in that condescending

tone. You are not the boss of me. We’re going to
talk this out. That man scared you. Hell, he scared
me. And I don’t like that. I don’t like that he made
me feel as if I had no control for a moment. And
now you’re trying to take away my control as well.
I’m not letting that happen.”

“Zia.”
“Again. Stop saying my name unless I’m

fucking you. Okay?”

That made her laugh, and I took the food from

her and stomped away. My side hurt, the ink was
sore, and all I wanted to do was eat food, fuck my
girlfriend, and actually be able to call her my
girlfriend. Fuck it, we were going to talk about this.
Even if I had to scream my way to make it work.

I shoved the food into the fridge, knocking over

a creamer as I did, grateful that the lid was still on.
I put it back, slammed the fridge door, and whirled
on Meredith, who was standing so close behind me
that I could feel the heat of her on my body.

“You don’t get to push me away.”
“Maybe it’s for your own good,” Meredith said.
“Fuck that.”
“Zia.”
I growled. Actually growled. “What did I say?

Is your mouth on my pussy? Is mine on yours? No.
Then you don’t get to say my name right now.”

That made her lips quirk into a smile, but I was

too angry to smile back. “We’re going to talk.
Something that we should have done anyway. I
know we’ve both been scared. I saw the fear in
your eyes, and that’s why I’m back. Because we
shouldn’t walk away when we’re scared. We
shouldn’t walk away when we’re angry. They say
you’re not supposed to even fall asleep angry,
because what if one of us doesn’t wake up? So
we’re going to talk.”

She started saying my name, then stopped,

snapping her mouth shut.

“That’s what I thought. No mouth on pussy, no

saying my name.”

This time, she did smile.
“Your ex sucks. I’m sorry. I’m so goddamn

sorry for what he did to you. And when you’re
ready to tell me everything, because I know there
has to be more, I’m here for you. Because like I
said, I’m falling in love with you, and I’m like a
barnacle. It’s going to be really hard to pry me
away from your life.”

“I make bad choices. I don’t want those choices

to hurt you,” she whispered.

“Ash was a bad choice. But I’m not.” I

swallowed hard, keeping the tears at bay. “I don’t
get to be a bad choice again.”

“You’re not a bad choice, that’s not what I’m

saying.”

“No? Then why do I feel like it is? I fell in love

before. Twice before you. And I thought those were
the right decisions.”

“It’s too soon,” she whispered.
“You don’t get to tell me how I feel and when

to feel it. If you don’t love me? If you’re never
going to love me? Then that’s something we can
talk about.” I let the pain of those words slam into
me, but I swallowed them and ignored it. I would
just have to push it down. “I fell in love with
Edward. The perfect man. He reminded me of an
actual prince from England. He smiled, and he

growled a bit, and I loved him. And he belittled me
and hated what I did and made sure I felt like I was
nothing. Because I wasn’t the perfect person. He
didn’t like my hair or my tattoos. He didn’t like the
way I remained friends with my ex-girlfriend. He
didn’t like the fact that I liked pussy as much as I
liked dick. He didn’t like any of that. And I didn’t
realize it until it was too late. Because he was so
good at hiding himself. I loved him. And I was
wrong.”

“Baby.”
I shook my head. “And I loved Bristol, too. I

loved her. I don’t love her the same way anymore.
And I’m glad. Because I was never enough for
her.” I swallowed hard at the emotion, and
Meredith reached out, her hand rising before she let
it fall. Good. I wasn’t sure I would be able to
breathe if she touched me. “I loved Bristol, and she
didn’t love me the same way. I wasn’t enough for
her.”

“That’s a lie. You’re more than enough.”
“Really? Then why am I not enough for you?”
“That’s a low blow.”
“We’re pretty good at giving those out right

now, aren’t we? I know you’re scared. I know that
what happened with your ex was horrible. And
we’re going to talk about it in more detail. I
promise. But you don’t get to push me away
because you’re scared.”

“I wasn’t expecting you. I wasn’t expecting any

of this,” Meredith said. “I was supposed to heal
here. Find myself and be me.”

“And you can do all of that. I want all the same

things. But I want to do them with you. So, let me
be the person by your side. Let me figure this out
with you.”

I felt like I was burying myself, and I couldn’t

breathe, couldn’t think.

How the hell had this happened? For a third

time. Somehow, I was doing this for a third time,
and if Meredith walked away, I did not know what
part of me would be left.

“I’ve made mistakes before, I don’t want to be

yours,” Meredith said, and I let out a breath.

“I understand that fear, but you don’t get to

make my choices. You can walk away if you don’t
want me. I will break, and I will fight, but you will
never be my mistake.”

“I don’t want to walk away from you.”
Relief flooded me, and I almost went down to

my knees. Instead, I looked at her and reached out
to tuck her hair behind her ear.

“I won’t walk away. But you don’t get to walk

away either.”

“I’ve only loved one other person, and I was

wrong about him.”

“And I’ve loved two others. I was wrong about

one, and not the right fit for the other.”

“And I’m third best?” she teased, but I needed

to be honest about this. I didn’t hear fear in her
voice, but just the same, I needed to be sure she
understood. We both did.

“Never. We all have pasts. We all have shames

that might not be worth it in the end, but here we
are. So, let’s take a chance. Hell, I am. We’re all
moments in time, moments in ink.” I looked down
at my new ink and shrugged. “We’re all moments in
what we carve out for each other. But we can do
this.”

“And what is this?” she asked, her voice low as

she leaned forward.

“Whatever we want it to be. Because we can

take a chance. I promise you.”

And when Meredith leaned forward and

brushed her lips against mine, I knew we were
going to take that chance.

Because all thoughts of food and exes and

mistakes flew from my mind, and love and relief
flooded in.

Meredith was my moment, and I was hers.
And I was finally fighting for it.
Finally.

“O

E P I L O G UE

Meredith

kay, angle up,” Zia said, and I raised a
brow.

“Angle what up?” I asked, and she

laughed.

I lay on a tarp on a settee in Zia’s bedroom, the

light shining on my bare breasts and the rest of my
very bare skin.

The fact that I was letting her paint me naked in

her bedroom in the middle of the day meant that I
had gotten drunk the night before when I agreed to
this.

“Come on, I’m having fun.” And then Zia

dipped the paintbrush between my breasts, and I
groaned.

“Where on earth did you get the edible body

paint?” I asked, wanting to reach out and grab her
hair and pull her to my lips. Only the last time I had
done that, she had spanked me hard, and though I
had truly enjoyed it, she had also growled at me.

Zia growling was sexy as hell, but she wanted to

paint me, literally using me as a canvas, so I was
going to let her.

I would let her do anything.
Anything.
“Maya told me about the paints after your last

session with Callie. I joked about how I wanted to
see what other ink would look good on your skin,
and she gave me a gift.”

“Should I be jealous of Maya?” I asked, not

serious in the least.

“She has two very sexy men at home. I don’t

think we need to be jealous of Maya.”

“Or we can be jealous of the fact that she has

two very sexy men at home.” I laughed, and then
Zia leaned down and brushed her lips across mine. I
moaned, sliding my hand around her waist and then
down between her cheeks, spreading her.

She groaned when I dipped my finger inside and

then let out a shuddering breath.

“Shouldn’t you be wearing something, oh,

artist?” I asked, playing with her pussy.

Zia’s mouth parted, and she panted, reaching

over me to grip the edge of the settee as I kept
playing with her folds.

“If I were wearing pants, you wouldn’t be able

to do this,” she said, her voice shaking.

“True. Now, come closer, I need those lips of

yours.”

“Which set?” Zia said with a laugh, and I took

the palette from her, setting it on the couch so paint
didn’t splatter everywhere, then pulled her on top
of me.

“I’ll settle for your mouth now, and then I’m

going to want that pussy of yours.”

“You’re getting paint everywhere,” Zia scolded,

licking my lips. I reached up to cup her breasts,
flicking her nipples. They turned to hard points, and
I leaned forward, sucking one into my mouth.

“That’s why you laid out three sets of tarps so

we could roll around in it.”

“I laid them out so I didn’t flick paint

everywhere.”

“You totally knew we were going to fuck on

this tarp when you set it out. Don’t lie.” I sucked
her other nipple into my mouth, biting down gently.

“Fine, now fuck me,” she whispered, and I

grinned.

“That’s my girl,” I whispered.
“Whatever you say, baby.”
She slid her thigh between mine, straddling my

leg, as well. The friction sent shivers up my spine,
and I gently pulled her hair, tugging her mouth to
mine. Paint smeared all over us. I smiled against her
lips, needing more. I angled my hips, rolling them,
rubbing against her, and she did the same to me. We
panted, our breaths coming faster and faster as our
clits rubbed against each other, sweat-slick and wet
from our combined need.

“I’m close,” Zia whispered.
“Keep going. More. Come on me. Say my

name.”

She smiled against me, and I rotated up, using

my hand to reach around and play with her ass.

She arched against me, and then she came, her

whole body shaking, her thighs gripping mine. I
arched my hips up, needing more, and then I came
with her. When I tugged on her again, we both
rolled off the settee, laughing, touching, covered in
paint, and touching some more.

I licked her bare skin where the paint hadn’t

been yet, kissing and nipping until I was between
her legs, lapping up her juices. I kissed, and I
licked, and I touched, and I bit down, and when she
came again, I was above her, needing more.

“On my face,” Zia ordered. I did as she asked,

using the settee to steady myself, my thighs over
her shoulders as I rocked my hips over her face, her
tongue flicking out in delicate licks. She spread me
wide, paint going everywhere, and I laughed until I

came again, my whole body shaking.

Somehow, I was able to move off her, both of

us holding each other, our bodies tangled and
covered in paint. I laughed.

“Some of the best sex I’ve ever given you, and

you’re laughing?” Zia asked, spanking me again.

I moaned, and she smiled.
“Good to know,” Zia murmured.
“Sadist,” I joked.
“Maybe. But only for you.” She kissed me

hard.

“I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you, too,” I replied.
We lay there for a while in blissed silence

before she spoke again. “By the way, I removed the
lock on the gate between our houses.”

“Good, and you removed mine, too?”
“Of course. Eventually, we should just build a

tunnel between our homes. That way, it’s one big
house.”

I lazily slid my hand up and down her back,

grinning. “Or you can just move in here.”

“Or you can move into mine. I have the better

garden.”

“But I have the better second floor.”
She rolled until she was on top of me, straddling

me, and I moaned.

“How about we flip for it?” Zia asked. And I

squeezed her hip.

“Why do I think I’m going to end up tails

again?”

“I always win. I mean, I won you, didn’t I?”

She fluttered her lashes, and I rolled my eyes.

“You sure are sappy these days.”
“I can’t help it. You make me that way. I’m

sure I’ll be a sarcastic ass soon.”

“Thank you. Because I’m truly going to need

that.” I squeezed her hip again. “Now, let’s fuck
some more, and then we can clean up this mess. I
have no idea how much paint is going to come out
of my hair. I did recently bleach it.”

“Oh, fuck,” Zia said, laughing, her eyes wide.

“Maybe we need to shower now.”

“Yeah, probably. Going into work with

whatever the fuck color my hair is right now is
likely a really bad idea.”

“It’s okay, we can totally fix this,” Zia said,

lifting me up to my feet. We slid around on the
paint, laughing.

“Well, my boss did comment on my ink and

about how it looked great. So, maybe they won’t
mind if I have random-colored hair.”

“Even if you look like Rainbow Brite?” Zia

asked, and I froze.

“What?” I asked quickly.
“Nothing, baby. Let’s get you inside that

shower and see what we can do.”

“Zia. What did you do to me?”

“Nothing at all. I love you.” And she ran off to

the shower, leaving paint footprints on her tile.

“Is this so I move in with you? We’re going to

trash your house so we can’t sell it?” I asked,
following her.

“I told you, I always win!” Zia said, the shower

running.

I shook my head, cleaned up the paint after her,

grateful it wasn’t permanent according to the box,
and shook my head again.

Somehow, I had fallen in love with a bright light

that changed everything. I wasn’t lost in the
darkness anymore. I wasn’t searching for what
could have been. I had found it.

I had found her.
And I wasn’t hiding anymore. Wasn’t

searching.

I didn’t need to. I had Zia.
My moment. My person. Mine.

THE END

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Carrie Ann Ryan is the New York Times and USA Today
bestselling author of contemporary, paranormal, and young
adult romance. Her works include the Montgomery Ink,
Redwood Pack, Fractured Connections, and Elements of Five
series, which have sold over 3.0 million books worldwide.
She started writing while in graduate school for her advanced
degree in chemistry and hasn’t stopped since. Carrie Ann has
written over seventy-five novels and novellas with more in the
works. When she’s not losing herself in her emotional and