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Once I’m outside Black Out, the breeze of the night hits me.I wish I had brought my bike.The hum of the engine and the thrill of the ride would have given me a much-needed escape.As I scan the area, I spot a custom-made bike next to my car, and can’t help but briefly close my eyes at the sight.
I recognize the bike.Its owner is the one person I didn’t expect to see again.Not after the last time when I told him to leave me the fuck alone.
He’s here.The guy whose body could put ancient statues to shame.It’s seemingly chiseled from granite, rippling muscles forged through years of training and discipline.
“Grey, why did you gasp?Is everything okay?”Piper’s concern makes me straighten my shoulders.She doesn’t need my crap.
“No ...Yes.I’m not sure,” I mumble, my gaze fixed on the figure standing beside the bike.A man who’s the embodiment of raw power and gentle charm.He’s six foot four like me, but unlike me, he has an intimidating body, but a gentle gaze.“He.He’s here.”
Sanford Bancroft,I don’t say out loud.
“San?”Pipe’s voice is low, knowing he’s like my kryptonite, but also my oxygen.
“Uh-huh,” I manage to respond, exhaling harshly.“How the fuck did he find me?”
“Do you want me there?”she asks again.
“No, but I’ll have to call you later,” I say, ending the call and making my way toward my car with determination.I’m going to confront him and make it abundantly clear that he can go and fuck himself.
“Why are you here?”I demand, my words laced with both anger and a desperate need for ...him?
His hypnotic, gentle blue eyes meet mine as he reaches into one of the saddlebags and producesthebook, holding it out toward me.I don’t dare touch it.Instead, I stare at it as if it’s a viper, its pages filled with venomous words ready to strike and inject a potent mix of emotions into my mind and soul that might kill me.
“Get the fuck out of here,” I order with raw intensity.
He shakes his head.There’s a determined glimmer in his eyes.“I’ve let you push me away long enough.I’m not sure about you, but I need closure.I need to understand why Enya published this tell-all and included our story.”
I knit my brows together, struggling to make sense of what he’s saying.“You think it was Enya?”
“Have you read it?”he responds with another question.
“No, and you?”I admit, but I wonder if he did, and that’s why he’s here.
San shakes his head, and I spot the frustration in his expression.“Only the foreword.It’s enough to know it’s probably Enya who wrote it, but not enough to figure out her motives.”
I rub my chin.“What does she want?”
He shrugs.“Money, attention ...to fuck with us?”
I scoff.“Funny, but there’s no us, and if you ever cared about me, you’ll go back to where you came from.”And I can’t fathom the bitterness in my voice.
“Grey—”
“Leave,” I order.
“There’s nothing I could’ve done,” he claims, his voice filled with regret or maybe pain.
“You could’ve tried,” I snap, anger running through my veins.“All that fucking training was useless.I—”
“Greyson, stop,” he interrupts, his command cutting through my rant.“You can’t remember what happened because ...”
I know what he doesn’t say.The words linger between us—they played with my head.I close my eyes, not wanting to think about what happened then.
“I need to go,” I say, gesturing toward my car.
“Grey, stop,” he orders, using a soft voice, and the way he says my name sends a shiver down my spine, almost hypnotizing me.
My heart skips a beat, and a wave of conflicting emotions crashes over me.I hate him even more for still owning a piece of me, for having the power to draw my attention even after all this time.
