Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
I exhaled through my nose. “She’s not answering.”
Tower’s mouth twitched. “Sounds like she’s answering just fine. You’re not accepting her response, brother.”
That got my attention. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” he stated calmly, “you got your answer. You just don’t like it.”
I bristled. “You don’t know her.”
“No,” he agreed. “But I know you. And I know that look. You don’t chase things unless they matter. And in all these years, Loco, you’ve never chased a woman.”
I stared into the amber of my beer. “We’re not kids anymore.”
“Exactly,” Tower shot back. “Which is why I don’t get what the hell you’re doing.”
I looked up. “Enlighten me.”
He leaned forward, voice lower. “You had a taste of something you wanted that much is obvious. Something real. And instead of figuring out how to make it work, you’re sitting here waiting for it to come back to you. Brother, knew your ass was crazy. Didn’t know you were fuckin’ psychotic. Because only someone with a mental problem would have someone that beautiful in their bed, obviously crave another taste, and still not have the balls to go after that sweet cunt.”
“That’s not—”
“Bullshit,” he cut in throwing a hand up to silence me. “You think she shut you down because she doesn’t feel anything? Or because she doesn’t want to be an afterthought in your chaos?”
That one landed square in the ribs.
I didn’t answer.
Tower straightened. “You said it yourself. We’re not young. There’s no extra time laying around to waste pretending you don’t want what you want.”
I scoffed quietly. “Her life’s in DC. Mine isn’t.”
“So?” he questioned me. “Then you find a way. Or you decide she’s not worth the trouble and stop torturing yourself.”
He paused, eyes narrowing. “But don’t lie to yourself. That woman got under your skin. And if you let this go without a real fight, you’re gonna regret it.”
He got up from the bar stool and walked away, leaving the words hanging in the air like smoke.
They plagued me. For eight more days.
Every mile I rode, every night I lay awake staring at the ceiling, every time my phone buzzed and it wasn’t her—I heard Tower’s voice. You had a taste of something you wanted.
He was right.
I had sworn I’d never go back to that city. Never put myself in a position where the ghosts could find me again. DC held too many memories. Too much blood. Too many versions of me I’d buried on purpose.
But it also held her. And apparently that was a temptation I couldn’t resist.
A few days later, I woke before dawn with the decision already made. No debate. No overthinking. Pure adrenaline, need, and reaction.
I pulled on my jeans, my boots, my jacket. Checked the bike like I always did—muscle memory, steady hands. The engine roared to life under me, familiar and grounding.
As I rolled out onto the open road, the sky just starting to lighten, I felt something shift in my chest.
Fear, maybe.
Hope, definitely.
I didn’t know if she would answer the door. I didn’t know if she would tell me to leave. I didn’t know if I was about to make a fool of myself at an age where men liked to pretend they were past that. I didn’t know much of anything. But I knew one thing with absolute clarity.
For her, it was worth it.
Worth the miles. Worth the risk. Worth breaking a promise I had made to myself a long time ago.
The city rose on the horizon hours later, steel and stone and memories.
I didn’t slow.
Not this time.
Her building looked different in daylight.
Cleaner. Sharper. Less forgiving.
I killed the engine at the curb and sat there for a second longer than necessary, hands resting on the grips, helmet still on. The city hummed around me—sirens somewhere far off, traffic breathing in fits and starts, the low, constant pulse of a place that never truly slept.
I swore I would never come back here.
I pulled off the helmet.
That vow felt flimsy now. Like something made in a different lifetime by a man who hadn’t known yet what it felt like to wake up empty and realize the only thing he could still taste was her mouth.
I took the stairs two at a time. Didn’t give myself time to think, to back out. Her door stared back at me like it already knew why I was there.
I knocked.
Once.
Firm.
Footsteps. A pause. Locks disengaging. Then the door opened.
Shock flared across her face so fast she didn’t have time to hide it.
“Dante?” she breathed.
That was all I needed. I stepped inside and shut the door behind me without breaking eye contact. The city vanished with the click of the lock. The air between us went tight, electric.
I didn’t speak. I crossed the space in two strides, cupped her face, and kissed her.
Hard.
Not desperate—but determined. Like a man planting a flag and daring the world to argue. She gasped against me, hands coming up automatically, fingers fisting in my jacket like her body remembered before her brain could catch up.