* * *

ONE DAY AGO

I had a bad feeling about this. But then, I always did when coming home. Only this wasn’t the normal butterfly effect in my stomach.

I felt as if I were being watched as I moved through the crowd at the airport. I realized it was silly with the amount of people crowding the airport, traveling after the end of the holiday. Thankfully, I was able to move faster than the rest because I only had a day’s worth of clothing.

I wasn’t staying long.

I never did.

With a town the size of Six Forks, a lengthy stay meant the chance of being seen, so I never stayed more than twenty-four hours.

It was more than enough time to fulfill an obligation.

None of the twenty odd visits were ever pleasant, and I had no high hopes that this one would be, so one day it was.

In the past, I would always make some excuse to my parents about a test I had to study for, and they would always accept as long as I was spending my time on something they approved of.

Six Forks was a place that always remained familiar to me despite how far or how long I stayed away.

It was late afternoon when I walked outside, and I took a moment to enjoy the Nevada air. The temperature was surprisingly tolerable considering it was late November.

I looked around but didn’t immediately spot my mother’s car. She sent a text ten minutes before my plane landed to let me know she was waiting outside, so where was she?

I readjusted my bag on my shoulder and dug my phone out of my back pocket. This was another new thing for me—wearing jeans. I used to always think jeans were so plain and easy but then I discovered colored jeans. Eventually, even that little freedom faded away to plain, washed denim,

A broken heart had done what eighteen years of scolding and parental control couldn’t. It normalized me.

I always studied hard, got good grades, and totally ignored boys… for the most part. All I asked in return was to be able to express myself, but my mother refused to let me have that small source of independence.

Already regretting this visit, I angrily typed out a quick text and waited.

CHAPTER SEVEN

PRESENT

DASH

I WAS PISSED way the fuck off. Add to that, my sexual frustration and I were a ticking time bomb waiting to blow. I never felt more alive in the past four years than I did now.

And it was all because of her.

She managed to dupe me once again and flee the car, and without hesitation, I gave chase. It was more than enough to send my pumping blood into a quiet rage. One glance ahead and I knew where she was heading.

Despite the suit, I moved swiftly and silently, recalling all of my basketball training. The parking lot was empty excluding the cabbie. His back was turned as he spoke on his cell. Music poured from the open windows of his cab, allowing me to steal Willow away once more.

Surprisingly, she didn’t fight and scream, which I fully expected. Her temper matched her hair, but she seemed distracted, and when she wiggled her ass against my erection, I found why.

I bent low to whisper but bypassed her ear for her neck where she was most responsive. “Unless you’re prepared to do something about him, I suggest you stop.”

“Stop what?”

“You know what.” And she did. I could tell by the way her cheeks pinked and the ragged flow of her breath.

“Let go of me.”

Instead of letting go, I shoved her into the car none too gently with my hand on her ass. Her low growl made my dick jump in my slacks, and for a moment, all I could think about were things I could do to force more sounds like that from her.

Bending her to my will would be the cherry on top.

“Take us to the apartments,” I ordered while ignoring the hateful glares from Willow. She remained silent, although I believed it was a refusal to talk to me that kept her quiet rather than self-preservation. Nonetheless, it allowed me to think of my next move.

I had her. But what would I do with her?

I took her in, noticing her clothes once more and for some reason, it pissed me off how much she’d changed. She’d even lost a little weight but managed to keep some of the curves that helped make me fall for her.

“Why are you dressed like that?” I asked again.

“I told you—”

“You had to grow up. Yeah, I get it. But why are you dressed like that?”

“It’s none of your business.” She sniffed.

“You lost weight,” I observed out loud. Her indrawn gasp of horror signified I did the one thing men were never to do, and that was to comment on her weight, but I couldn’t give less of a fuck right now.

“Don’t worry. I’m still fat,” she snidely replied.