Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, but the story is my own.

Chapter 7

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It had been a week since the incident with Edward, and it felt like everything around me had somehow shifted. The sting had dulled, softened by time—and maybe, just maybe, by the fact that I had more than enough cash to wipe my tears with. But even though the practical side of me could handle it, the emotional side wasn't as easily appeased. The way everything had ended left a sour taste, a nasty reminder that not everyone had my best interests at heart.

I mean, seriously—thinking I could be bought again? After everything that had happened? The way he'd spoken to me, and the way he'd pinned my hands above my head like I was some kind of object to be handled? My blood still boiled when I thought about it.

And yet… there was something about him. An undeniable edge of mystery that kept me hooked. His presence lingered in the corners of my mind, even when he wasn't physically around, and it was maddening.

Damn him.

He was ridiculously handsome, and no matter how much I tried to shove him from my thoughts, I couldn't. His body was etching into my mind.

I had spent the past week caught in a battle—my pride fighting against the pull he had on me. The confusion of being repelled by the way he confronted me, yet drawn to the wild energy he radiated.

I hated him for it.

But maybe, just maybe, I missed him instead.

Not that it mattered. I hadn't heard a word from Alice, and honestly, part of me was grateful for that. I didn't know what I would've said to her anyway.

I did speak with Damien about it a few days after the whole thing went down. His voice still lingered in my head like it had just happened.

"Girl, don't worry. You know what they say... if you leave a door open long enough, the wind's gonna blow something back in."

I had rolled my eyes at the time, brushing it off as just something so Damien, spinning it into some kind of metaphor. But damn if it didn't stick with me.

The pull toward Edward was confusing—no, it was more than that. It was suffocating. The more I tried to convince myself that I didn't need him, that I wasn't going to entertain the idea of him, the more I felt the weight of his absence...although I barely knew the motherfucker!

I had been so used to fretting over grief, money, over my brother, over everything else. But now? I was consumed by thoughts of him.

I'd spent so much of the last week in this weird limbo—just trying to get my bearings. I hadn't expected it, but when I wasn't thinking about the aftermath of that night, I was thinking about how he made me feel. A sense of freedom, of confidence, that I didn't know I needed. It had made me feel sexy in a way I hadn't in a long time.

But then there was the part of me that was bothered—hurt, even. The proposition. The way he'd looked at me like I was a piece of meat. Sex work wasn't my thing, and for him to just throw it out there like that, knowing full well that's not my style, had me spiraling. It didn't sit right with me.

Still… in the midst of all this, I couldn't shake the desire to feel him close to me. The way he made me feel. Even though, again, I barely knew him. A part of me was desperate to get to know more.

But life wasn't about Edward right now. It was about Seth. And that meant my mornings were filled with getting him up and ready for school. I couldn't help but notice that Jacob had been stepping up more than usual. Midway through the week, he started offering to take Seth to school himself before he heads to his shop, giving me that small bit of peace in the mornings.

It was a small luxury, time to think. Time to breathe. Time to… not worry about the chaos of life in fucking general. And the more I had time to myself, the more my thoughts wandered back to Edward. I couldn't help it. I really missed the distraction of all the stress of everything else that had felt so much more important just a week ago.

Friday was the worst of it too. The day just dragged on. I spent most of it sleep because Seth was heading to Jacob's after school for a while. Money was still barely tended to in my bedroom.

It felt like everything was drowned out by the thought of Edward. A thought that wouldn't leave me alone.

On Saturday night I had to work. And, I'd left that afternoon from the house in a sort of haze. Almost forgetting my car keys, twice.

"I know, Clearwater, I make you nervous, say no more," Jacob joked, leaning against the doorframe with that infuriating grin of his.

He could tell I was in a daze. Making a couple Cheech jokes earlier on his way in before giving me some cash for groceries. I didn't say much about it, but it's appreciated. Considering he eats like there's no tomorrow.

"Hush it!" I snapped at his comment, snatching my keys up from the table with a firm grip. "And stop standing there like some kind of overgrown statue. Don't you have something better to do?"

"Not really," he said, shrugging. "Unless you're offering to entertain me."

I shot him a glare, but Seth interrupted before I could retort.

"Lee, do you think you could pick me up some more of those guacamole chips you got last time?" Seth asked, giving me those puppy dog eyes that always worked on me.

I sighed, already knowing I couldn't say no. "Fine. But we're taking a break after this, got it? You're going to turn into a guacamole chip if you keep this up."

Seth deflated for a moment, muttering something under his breath about how I never let him have anything good. Then he realized I'd actually said yes and immediately perked up, beaming like I'd just promised him the moon.

"Thanks, Lee!" he said, bouncing on his heels.

Jacob laughed, ruffling Seth's hair. "Careful, Seth. She's only nice to you because you're her favorite."

"I'm his sister," I corrected, swatting Jacob's hand away from Seth's head. "And don't think I've forgotten about you, Black. Quit eating up all my snacks!"

Jacob held up his hands in mock surrender. "I'm only here sometimes, Clearwater, not all the time. Cut me some slack."

"Sometimes is still too much," I shot back, narrowing my eyes at him. "And I know it was you who found my chunk bar stash. Don't even try to deny it."

His eyes widened for a split second before he broke into that stupid grin of his, rubbing his stomach like he was savoring the memory. "Guilty as charged. But in my defense, I love raisins, and they were just sitting there, begging to be eaten."

I let out a disgusted scoff. "You're unbelievable. Next time, I'm hiding them somewhere you'll never find them."

"Challenge accepted," he said, his grin widening. "But good luck with that. I've got a sixth sense for your snacks."

Seth snorted, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. "You two are ridiculous. At least we share."

"Because you're a couple of bottomless pits," I muttered, shaking my head. "I swear, between the two of you, we are going to go broke keeping this house stocked."

Jacob smirked, crossing his arms. "You love us, though. Admit it."

"Keep dreaming, Black," I said, though I couldn't quite keep the smile off my face. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to get to work before Seth starts gnawing on the furniture from hunger."

"Hey!" Seth protested, but he was laughing too hard to sound offended.

I began making my way through the house to the front room, grabbing my bag off the couch. "I'll stop by the store on my way back. You need anything else?"

Jacob stepped aside, still grinning as I headed for the door. "Don't forget my beef jerky," he called after me.

I paused, turning to give him a deadpan look. "You're lucky I'm even letting you in the house."

"Lucky's my middle name," he shot back, winking.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help the small laugh that escaped as I walked out the door. Sometimes, as much as I hated to admit it, Jacob's ridiculousness was almost endearing. Almost.

Before I shut the door behind me, I called in one last time, "And don't encourage Kujo to dig holes in our yard, please!"

"Oh, I love the sound of that—our yard!" Jacob's voice echoed from somewhere in the kitchen, dripping with mock enthusiasm.

"You're mocking me with your indulgence of my food, dude. I'm gonna start charging," I called back, leaning against the doorframe.

His response was muffled, probably because he was already stuffing his face with whatever snack he'd scavenged from my pantry. "If it's a bill, put it in the mail!"

I rolled my eyes, fighting off laughter as I finally shut the door. The sound of Seth's laughter and Jacob's muffled chewing followed me out, and I couldn't help but shake my head. Those two were going to be the death of me—or at least the death of my grocery budget.

As I climbed into my car, I made a mental note to hide the chunk bars better this time. Maybe somewhere Jacob's so-called "sixth sense for snacks" wouldn't reach. But knowing him, he'd probably sniff them out anyway.

I started the engine, glancing back at the house one last time. For all their chaos, I had to admit—life was never boring with those two around.

At the club, it was Jessica's birthday, and like the trooper she was, she still came into work. The DJ announced her birthday, giving her the option to hop on the pole for a few minutes to guarantee good tips. It was a little perk Laurent had come up with for the barbacks and servers—the dancers weren't the only ones who needed extra cash.

She and I embraced before she shimmied her hips playfully.

I giggled as Emmett swung past us, attempting a little dance of his own, earning laughter from all of us. Angela was off tonight, so I'd been missing her a bit. I honestly felt guilty about not revealing all the things that I've been up to.

I turned my attention to the crowd as the shift proceeded, a restless, moving mass. I tugged at my black gym short. My mind drifted for a moment until Fran, the new girl, pulled me back with a question. She was asking about when to cut someone off from a bottle. As I started explaining, she nodded continuously, wide-eyed, until I finally just told her not to worry—I'd handle it for her this time if she wasn't comfortable with the confrontation.

She pointed toward one of the last stools at the end of the bar. A gruff, hairy-looking man, slightly smaller than Emmett, was swaying—not even on beat. Fran explained that he'd ordered another shot but had barely touched the one in front of him. His tab showed six beers and four shots.

I buzzed Emmett and Blaze, the other security guy on the radio.

"Wazzup, Leelee? You need some backup?" Emmett's voice came through first.

Fran watched me handle the call.

I pressed the button to respond. "Not sure yet, I'm about to cut someone off. Whoever's in here, keep your head on a swivel."

Blaze's deep voice followed. "Eyes on the bar, kid." He was talking to Emmett.

I changed the station, tuning onto the DJ booth, 'Sweets'—weekend regular. It was hip-hop/R&B night, my favorite. I made a mental note to request a song.

Jess bounced up to the bar, tapping her tray against the wood with more enthusiasm than usual.

"You ready to dance?" I called over the booming bass.

She grinned. "Only if you come up with me!"

I immediately shook my head, making her pout. "Leah!" she whined, slamming her palm onto the bar. "Come on, don't be a prude!"

I rolled my eyes, taking her order slip and passing it to Fran. "Pay attention to how I handle this, okay?" I tilted my head toward the burly man I was about to cut off.

She nodded, her orange bangs shifting across her forehead.

I winked at Jessica before filling a cup with water and making my way over to the man.

Sliding it in front of him, I smiled. "You and I are on break."

He shot me a perplexed glare.

I shrugged. "I know, I'm a buzzkill. But I care about you getting home safe tonight. Here's some water and—" I slid his tab toward him. "—the check."

He pursed his lips, then made a 'well, fuck it' face, taking a sip of water before pulling out his wallet.

I glanced over at Fran, who was spritzing soda water into two glasses. She had been close enough to hear, giving me a nod and mouthing a thank you.

This one was easier than most.

Then, one of my favorite songs came on. The DJ caught my eye from across the club, throwing me a knowing look.

I flashed him a big smile as the heavy bass of SAY NO MO' by TERROR REID rolled through the speakers, smooth and menacing. A ripple went through the crowd—hands shot up in the air, simple movements turning harder, bodies grinding in time with the beat.

I nodded my head to the rhythm as I slid a fresh drink across the bar, my hips swaying slightly as I grabbed another order ticket.

"They don't be callin' me Terror for nothing'," I rapped under my breath, lips curling into a smirk as I moved effortlessly through the rush.

The music fueled me, each beat syncing with my steps as I spun to grab a bottle from the shelf, poured a drink, then flicked my wrist to pass a napkin across the bar—all while subtly moving to the rhythm. I wasn't dancing, not really, but my body couldn't resist the pull of the song.

I was halfway through cashing out a tab when Jessica appeared, grinning wildly.

"Fran! Cover the bar!" she called out before turning to me.

Before I could process what was happening, her fingers curled around my wrist, yanking me forward.

"Jess!" I protested, laughing as she dragged me toward the stage.

She wasn't taking no for an answer.

The music pulsed through the air, wrapping around me, thick and intoxicating. The crowd roared, completely lost in the moment.

One of the go-go dancers stepped down from her podium near the stage, giving us space with a knowing smirk. Jessica wasted no time, grabbing my hand and pulling me up with her. The heat of the lights, the energy of the room—it all surged through me, electric and wild.

Jess pressed her back to me, rolling her hips, her body moving in perfect sync with the heavy bass. The crowd ate it up, the DJ's voice booming through the mic.

"Y'all better show some love! Birthday girl's got moves!"

The cheers grew louder, hands lifting drinks, whistles piercing through the air.

Jessica turned to face me, her fingers trailing down my arm before she spun, dropping low and popping her hips to the music. I smirked, letting myself sink into the moment, swaying my body against hers, our movements fluid and sensual.

She reached around and gave my ass a playful slap, grinning up at me before turning around and shaking her ass against my thighs, giving the crowd a perfect view. The heat between us sent a rush through me. Laughter bubbled from my lips as I matched her energy, letting the music take over completely.

The DJ hyped us up even more.

"Damn! Y'all better make it rain for 'em!"

Bills flew toward the stage, raining down like confetti as the crowd roared. The bass thrummed through my chest, a steady pulse of adrenaline. Jess spun, grabbing my waist and pulling me closer, our bodies moving in perfect sync.

I let myself go, feeling the rhythm take over, my hands finding the curve of her hips as she arched back, her body melting against mine before snapping forward. Her hair whipped in a wild, dramatic arc, catching the light like silk. Our breaths were hot and heavy, laughter sprung between us as we played off each other, lost in the moment.

The energy was fantastic. For the first time in what felt like a long time, I was having pure, uninhibited fun.

But somewhere in the chaos, hidden within the sea of bodies, someone else was watching. I'd just been too preoccupied to take any notice.

Then, just as the last beat hit, Jess leaned in close, her lips brushing my ear as she whispered, "Damn, babe. We killed that."

I grinned, our faces so close I could feel the heat of her breath. "Yes we did."

With a final wink, she tugged my hand, leading us off the stage and into the chaos below.

"Give it up for Jessica and Leah!" DJ Sweets played a horn.

The club pulsed around us, bodies pressing together, sweat and perfume clinging to the air. Jess tucked her tray under one arm, expertly weaving through the packed floor, her other hand still gripping mine.

Then, just as I exhaled, I felt it.

A sharp slap against my ass.

I froze. The sensation ignited a wildfire beneath my skin, rage crackling through my veins before I even turned.

Whipping around, my eyes locked onto the culprit—a frat-boy-looking punk, clearly wasted, his smirk cocky and dripping with entitlement.

For a split second, I saw red. My fingers curled into a fist, every muscle in my body wound tight with the urge to lay him out right then and there.

But before I could even move, Emmett was already on him.

He appeared like a storm, his hand snapping out, fisting the guy's collar, and yanking him up like he weighed nothing. The smirk vanished in an instant, replaced with wide-eyed terror as Emmett dragged him toward the exit without a second thought.

The punk didn't even get a word out.

Jess let out a low whistle beside me. "Damn," she muttered. "Remind me to never piss him off."

I smirked, shaking my head. "Good."

And just like that, we moved on, laughter spilling between us as the night carried on. The energy of the crowd never dipped, and neither did our momentum. We were in sync, weaving through tables and dodging rowdy patrons, making great tips as the shift flew by.

Thankfully, I wasn't closing tonight. I got off at twelve, and by the time I clocked out, the adrenaline was starting to wear off, leaving me pleasantly exhausted. Emmett stopped by the warehouse to say goodbye after i split tips, his usual swagger softened by the late hour.

Jess appeared moments later, her cheeks flushed and her smile wide. She pulled me into a tight hug, her energy still buzzing.

"Thank you for dancing with me," she hummed, her voice warm and sincere.

I hugged her back, squeezing her a little tighter. "Of course, baby. Happy birthday," I said, kissing her cheek. "You killed it out there tonight."

I'd made a mental note to get her something soon, for her birthday present. I was just so caught off guard today. My mind has been gone lately.

She grinned, pulling back to look at me, her eyes shining with excitement. "I couldn't have done it without you. You're my good luck charm."

I smiled, about to respond, when—

"Fuck, I am rock hard," Emmett interjected, his voice cutting through the moment like a goddamn record scratch.

Jess and I turned to him in unison, our expressions a perfect blend of disbelief and mild disgust.

"Jesus Christ, Emmett," I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Do you ever not say the first thing that comes to mind?"

He shrugged, completely unbothered. "What? I'm just being honest. You two were out there looking like a damn music video. It's not my fault I'm appreciating the art."

Jess groaned, shoving his shoulder. "You're impossible."

I rolled my eyes. "You could've kept that particular observation to yourself."

"Where's the fun in that?" he shot back, smirking. "Anyway, you heading home?"

I nodded, stretching my arms overhead, my body already aching from the long shift. "Yeah, I'm beat."

Jess pouted dramatically. "Booo. Can we get lunch or go out to dinner soon?"

"You, me, and Ang," I promised. "But right now, I need my bed more than anything."

She sighed, tossing her arms up. "Fine. But soon?"

"Deal."

Emmett pushed off the wall, giving me an easy nod. "Get home safe."

I smirked. "You too, perv."

He chuckled, unfazed as always, and with that, we parted ways—Jess slipping back through the bar doors, Emmett heading in the same direction, and me stepping into the cool night air.

I exhaled, the crisp breeze finally washing away the heat of the club. The muffled bass still throbbed behind me, but out here, everything was quieter, calmer. I made my way to my truck, my boots crunching against the pavement, exhaustion setting in heavy as I climbed into the driver's seat.

With a sigh, I slammed the door shut and let my head fall back against the headrest, closing my eyes for just a second.

Bed. That was all I needed. Just my bed, a shower, and maybe a snack if I could muster the energy.

Then it hit me.

Shit.

I still have to go by the grocery store.

I groaned, banging my head lightly against the seat. The last thing I wanted to do was trudge through fluorescent aisles and deal with checkout lines, but if I didn't go now, I'd regret it the second I step into the threshold of the house.

Forget about it, I wouldn't hear the end of it from Jacob. Or Seth, with these damn corn chips.

With a deep breath, I started the engine, letting the familiar rumble of the truck fill the quiet night.

Alright. Quick trip. In and out.

Then, finally, sleep.

The grocery store was nearly empty, the hum of fluorescent lights buzzing overhead as I scanned the aisles, grabbing the essentials—plus a few extras. My cart was already fuller than intended when I passed the beef jerky, hesitating for half a second before popping my gum and tossing a few packs in. Jacob would appreciate them, and it'd save me from his complaints later. I shook my head as I threw them into the basket, knowing damn well he owed me one now. I'd even grabbed some treats for Kujo.

Eventually, I made it through checkout and headed home, pulling into the driveway with relief settling in my bones.

The moment I stepped inside, a heavy thud sounded against the floor, followed by the rapid click of nails scrambling toward me.

"Hey, big guy," I murmured as Kujo—a thick, shaggy mix of Labrador and retriever—pushed his graying muzzle into my hands, his tail thumping against the wall in excitement. At ten, maybe eleven years old, he still had the energy of a puppy when it came to greetings. His fur was a mix of deep chocolate brown and lighter caramel streaks, coarse but comforting beneath my fingers as I gave him a few well-earned scratches.

He licked my hands, huffing excitedly as I moved past him, kicking the door shut behind me.

"Yeah, yeah, I missed you too," I chuckled, setting the bags down on the counter.

Kujo circled once before plopping down with a dramatic sigh, watching me like I might pull out a treat at any second.

Kujo's tail thumped expectantly as I rummaged through the bags, his eyes locked onto my hands with laser focus. I smirked, shaking my head as I pulled out a small bag of treats.

"Alright, alright," I sighed, tossing one his way. "But only because I'm too tired to argue."

He caught it midair with surprising reflexes for his age, chomping down happily before plopping his head onto his paws, satisfied.

I had barely put the rest of the groceries away when I heard the familiar shuffle of tired footsteps.

Jacob sauntered in, running a hand through his long dark hair, his usual cocky expression dulled by exhaustion.

"Hey, so… your brother got a little emotional tonight," he sighed, leaning against the doorway. "Nothing to worry about, he's asleep now. Just figured I'd mention it if he's looking a little puffy-eyed in the morning."

I let out a heavy breath, already feeling the weight settle deeper into my bones. "What triggered it this time?"

Jacob scratched the back of his neck. "Ah… some commercial on TV. Got all panicky, had to get him settled in his room. He was bawling."

My shoulders dropped as I rubbed my face harshly. "Shit."

"Yeah," Jacob muttered, exhaling as he crossed his arms. "Kid's got a big heart."

I nodded, pressing my lips together. "Yeah, he does."

For a moment, we just stood there, the house quiet except for Kujo's gentle breathing.

"Is that jerky?" He prodded the bag.

I shook my head slowly at his knack for knowing what to say.

.

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...

The next night, I went into work in a decent mood. The weight of the previous night had settled, but it wasn't unbearable. Jacob had taken Seth to his place for the night, and I felt better knowing he'd have some comfort with his dog there. A change of scenery was always good for him, and it gave me a break, too. Jacob had picked him up a couple of hours before I needed to leave for work, so I had some time to get things done.

First thing was first, tend to the money, honey.

I used that time to go to the mortgage office. I paid off the overdue mortgage and the back taxes, and I made sure the water bill was caught up. It felt good to finally be in the clear on all of that. I even opened a savings account for Seth, something I'd been meaning to do since I got the auction money. The teller was super nice, asking if I wanted to open any other accounts while I was there. I wasn't interested in more right now, so I just kept it simple. I decided to split the money in half—Seth would have $250,000 waiting for him when he turned twenty. I didn't want him to have it too soon, though. At seventeen, he was still too naive, easily influenced by everyone around him. It was a crazy age to be, especially with all the grief he was still carrying, like a wet shirt that wouldn't dry. If he showed me he was making progress, maybe if he actually graduated at the end of the semester, I'd consider letting him have control over it.

But for now, I needed to protect him from himself.

I still needed to go over the rest of my finances and make sure I had a full picture of where everything stood after all the payments.

Thank you, Edward.

The thought was almost involuntary.

Counting cash, that could wait for another day. I was about to head into work to make more.

Later, once I parked in the lot at my job, I sat in my truck for a moment, letting myself breathe. I dialed Old Quil's number, knowing he'd get restless if I didn't check in. He always did when I went a while without calling. It was just one of those things—he liked knowing I was okay, even if it was a quick "I'm fine" kind of call. And, honestly, I liked checking in with him too.

"Figured you were busy, girl. Hope you're not going at it too hard," Quil's rough voice crackled through the receiver, warm and familiar.

"Just taking care of things. Got Jacob helping me out with Seth," I said, shifting my weight against my truck.

"Oh, nice. Jake's a good kid—blue collar," he coughed, the rasp in his voice more pronounced than usual.

I ignored his compliment to Jake intentionally. "You feeling okay?" I asked, brow furrowing.

"Oh yeah, these old bones are still rattling," he chuckled, though it didn't quite mask the strain in his breath.

We talked for a little while longer before saying our goodbyes. By the time I hung up, my mood had dimmed slightly, but I shook it off. Work was work, and I needed to get through the night.

Once inside, I settled into the usual rhythm of my shift—pouring drinks, running orders, cashing out tabs. The music was loud, the air thick with the scent of whiskey and perfume, bodies moving in waves across the floor.

Angela called out sick tonight, texting me that she was sorry, knowing we were still in the process of training the new girl. We were covered though. Emmett was also supposed to be on shift tonight, but when I checked the schedule, his name was marked as absent. Laurent called us together in the back for a quick update, his expression unusually tight.

"Emmett got into a car accident," he told us, his voice cutting through the usual din of the bar behind the warehouse doors. "He's fine—banged up, but nothing life-threatening. Still, he won't be in for a while."

A few gasps rippled through the staff, followed by murmurs of concern. I exhaled slowly, processing the news. Emmett was reckless, sure, but hearing he'd actually gotten hurt was still jarring.

"We should get him something," Jess said, arms crossed. "Like, a card and some flowers."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Maybe put together a little care package too."

Laurent nodded, clapping his hands together. "Good. I'll handle the logistics, but if you all wanna pitch in, we'll make it happen."

With that, the night carried on, but it felt different.

I kept my head down, busying myself with drink orders and forcing myself to focus. I was kinda worried about Emmett. Those that have been working here a bit treat him like an unruly brother. He tries, and fails at time to manage to get any. Although he could be annoying, he was a cool guy. I'd hate hearing anything bad happened to him.

I was halfway through serving a couple at the bar when I felt it—an odd shift in the atmosphere, like a sudden drop in temperature despite the heat of the room.

Then, through the moving bodies, I noticed someone stepping in the front enterance.

A figure in a suit.

Slow, deliberate steps, cutting through the crowd with ease. Something about the posture, the air of confidence, sent an unsettling ripple through me before I even fully registered the details.

Then, those green eyes struck me.

I froze.

The blood drained from my face, my grip tightening on the glass I was holding. My breath hitched, my pulse a hammering echo in my ears.

It couldn't be.

I must have imagined it—

But no.

There he was.

Edward.

The air was sucked from my lungs, my grip tightening around the glass in my hand until my knuckles turned white. Every nerve in my body screamed at me to move, to do something—anything—but all I could do was stare.

This wasn't possible.

This couldn't be happening.

Panic crashed over me like a tidal wave, adrenaline spiking so hard it made my vision blur. My feet finally obeyed, carrying me backward before I even realized I was moving. I spun on my heel, muttering something incoherent to the couple I'd been serving before catching Fran's arm in passing.

"Cover me," I choked out, gripping her tighter than I meant to.

"Leah, what—" Her confusion faded the second she saw my face, the color draining from it. She gave a tight nod. "Go."

I didn't wait. I bolted through the double doors, the noise of the bar swallowed by the relative quiet of the back hall. My breath came in sharp, shallow bursts, my pulse hammering against my ribs as I pushed into the women's restroom.

The second the door shut behind me, I braced my hands on the edge of the sink, staring at my reflection in the smudged mirror.

I looked like hell—my face pale, my pupils blown wide. A fine sheen of sweat broke across my forehead as I tried to catch my breath.

How the hell did he find me?

It had to be the Whitlocks. He mentioned being close to them before, but I never thought they'd actually give me up like this. I clenched my teeth, anger briefly cutting through the panic. What a violation. What a complete and utter lack of confidentiality. That was something I would never forgive them for.

But I didn't have time to dwell on it. I needed to think. I needed to—

A wave of nausea hit me so hard I nearly dropped to my knees. I stumbled toward the stall, hovering over the toilet as my stomach twisted violently.

Breathe.

Breathe, damn it.

A knock at the door made me jump.

"Lee!" Laurent's voice rang through the wood, a sharp contrast to the panic buzzing in my ears. "You okay, darling?"

Shit.

I swallowed hard, forcing my voice to steady. "Yeah, just—just some bad food, I think. I just threw up."

There was a pause. Then a sigh. "Clock out and get some rest, babe. Can't have my best barback out for more than a week at a time."

"Yeah," I croaked. "Thanks, Laurent."

I didn't waste a second. I grabbed my things in a frenzy, my hands shaking as I shoved my phone and wallet into my bag. I didn't even bother splitting my tips for the night. I just needed to get out. Now.

Pushing through the front doors, I was already fumbling for my keys when I heard it—

A voice.

Familiar. Too familiar.

"Andrea, wait!"

My stomach dropped.

I barely recognized who he was calling out to, then I remembered it was me.

"What, Edward?" I huffed, spinning on my heels to face him, arms folded across my chest.

"You're fast," he said, eyes narrowing slightly, like he was trying to figure out whether I was a threat or an inconvenience.

"High school. Varsity cross country," I replied flatly, already annoyed, not even bothering to hide it.

"I—look, I went off the deep end, okay? I wanted to apologize for my behavior the other day. It was unacceptable."

"Why are you at my job?" I interjected before he could make his emotional plea.

"I had to find you," he said, his tone almost pleading, his eyes locking onto mine like I was the key to some puzzle he desperately needed to solve. "I needed to apologize."

"Who told you where I work?" I demanded sharply, every muscle in my body tensing at the question.

"No one did, I've seen your license plate, I have some connections—"

"You're stalking me now?" My voice rose a bit, incredulous, but I couldn't help it. It was the only logical explanation at this point.

He shook his head quickly, a little too quickly. "I just needed to find you." His hand reached into his jacket, pulling out a stack of crisp hundreds, bound by a cash strap marked with $10,000.

I didn't even blink. "I don't want your money anymore," I bit out, my voice cutting like steel.

He winced, his face a mix of frustration and regret. "I just wanted to make this right, cause I'm a fuck-up." His eyes were practically pleading with mine, a vulnerability I hadn't expected. "Remember I told you I'm honest."

I shook my head, crossing my arms firmly. "Okay, first of all, no. I'm not doing any of that again, alright?"

He nodded thoughtfully, but there was something calculating in his gaze. "What if I made the deal more interesting?"

I couldn't even help the laugh that escaped me. "You think you can buy me off with money? I'm not some prize at an auction, Edward."

His head tilted as he gazed on.

I shook my head firmly. "No. I'm not your staff, Edward, and I can't be bought. I'm not here to hold the red flag you're out here waving around."

His brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his handsome features. "What?"

I shuffled a bit on my feet as I waved my hand in the air, a little too aggressively. "I'm not interested," I said, the words sharp as I pointed between the two of us. "The initial deal was that date—"

"Okay—"

"—And the dates are over. I don't want anything to do with this shit anymore," I hissed, lowering my voice as I pointed at him. "And if you think you can bribe me, not gonna happen."

His lips twitched, like he wanted to laugh but was holding it back. I was done though. I reached for my door, but before I could even grip the handle, he slammed it shut with a casual swipe of his hand.

I whipped around to face him, my glare as sharp as a knife. "Don't touch my truck," I spat, my tone icy, unforgiving.

He didn't flinch. "I don't take very well to people telling me no," he said, his voice low, steady—a little too calm for my liking.

I sneered, leaning in closer just to get in his space. "What are you, five?" This gorgeous man couldn't take a hint. "Get over it."

I tried again to open my door, and again, he stopped me. I huffed, pursing my lips, trying not to look at his perfect face.

"You told me I could be done whenever, no repercussions," I reminded him, my voice unchanging, despite the tornado in my chest. "Do you not keep your word?"

Edward exhaled slowly, his eyes flickering with apprehension. For the first time, I saw him hesitate. It was subtle, but it was there. He wasn't used to being told no. That much was obvious. But despite the tension in his jaw, his posture remained composed—too composed. Like he was carefully measuring every move, every word.

"You scared me on the boat," I said, my voice quieter now, quieter than I intended. The words slipped out before I could stop them.

He bowed his head slightly, his expression shifting into something almost... apologetic? Genuine remorse flashed across his face for a second, then quickly faded. "I know," he murmured. "I'm sorry. I don't know what the fuck I was thinking." He dragged a hand through his hair, frustration bleeding into his tone.

A beat of silence passed between us, thick with tension. Then his voice softened, and he took a small step back.

"Listen..." His gaze shifted to the ground for a second, then back up at me, as if weighing his words. "I know Andrea isn't your real name."

My stomach clenched. I wasn't sure if it was fear, or something else, but I kept my expression as neutral as possible, trying to hold my ground.

He paused, rubbing a hand over his face, like he was tired of dancing around it. "I—I don't really do this," he admitted, his words hesitant. "And I'm not sure how to even ask."

My brows furrowed, a mixture of confusion and annoyance bubbling up. "What are you going on about?"

I wasn't exactly surprised he'd figured that out. Nobody at that janky bidding used their real names—I'd realized that early on. But the fact that he was bringing it up now? That threw me.

He delayed before answering, his eyes flickering nervously. "I'm not trying to make things more complicated, but... I need you to understand that I'm not trying to pressure you. I just—I don't know what I'm doing, alright?"

I almost laughed, but instead, I just stared at him. "You're really something, you know that?"

He let out a breath, exhaling slowly. "Yeah, I know."

"You're a delight to be around," he said, shaking his head slightly like he couldn't believe he was saying this out loud. "I'd much rather spend time with you than the pretentious shit I have to deal with all the time."

I blinked, processing that. "And?"

"I'm just nervous," he admitted, exhaling like this was harder than he'd anticipated. "Because I like you. And I actually want to see you more often."

I stared at him.

This was not where I thought this conversation was going.

"Okay... that is not what I was expecting," I said carefully.

"Yeah, no, I figured you weren't," he sighed, rubbing his jaw. "I haven't asked anyone out in a long time."

My brows shot up before I could stop myself.

Catching my reaction, he quickly added, "Not in an official way. Like a real date—no payments, no bribes. Just an outing as friends, if you'd like."

This was... new.

He liked me. Like, liked me. And he wanted to see me again, no strings attached. No money involved. Just… because.

"I didn't think you'd consider it unless I paid you."

I laughed, which got me a confused look from Edward. This man had definitely been around some gold-diggers. I can't totally blame him. It's the environment he's built for himself.

I crossed my arms, tilting my head, skepticism settling back in. "You've already seen my vagina—kind of a hard reset for a friendship."

The words were blunt, but my brain was still catching up.

Did he really like me? Or was this some kind of rich-guy guilt complex? Some weird need to make things right because I wasn't just a name on an auction sheet anymore?

And if it was real… what did that mean for me?

He pursed his lips, clearly fighting off a laugh. "Fair point. But we don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

I tilted my head slightly, watching him carefully. He actually seemed... sincere. Which only made me more suspicious.

"Can I think about it?" I asked.

"Absolutely," he said, looking more relieved than I expected.

I reached for my door handle again, ready to escape whatever weird emotional whiplash this was giving me.

"Before you go," he said suddenly, making me pause. "Are you Jessica, or Leah?"

The question made me grimace. Confused. But, perhaps he asked someone who the bartenders were while he was in my place of work?

He smiled at my expression. "Can I at least know your actual name?"

I froze, completely caught off guard. What did he want with a nobody like me? My pulse ticked up, a small voice in my head warning me to just leave, to not let this man past the walls I'd so carefully built. But instead, I opened my mouth—and stuttered like a total idiot.

"Leah," I finally managed.

He repeated it, slow, deliberate—almost like he was savoring the sound. My stomach did a weird little flip, and I hated it.

His hand extended toward me, palm open, waiting. "Nice to officially meet you, Leah."

Against my better judgment, I took it. His grip was firm, warm, and he held my gaze like he was trying to read me.

I swallowed, pulling my hand back, suddenly needing distance. "You got what you wanted. Can I go now?"

"Almost," he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. "Let me get your number."

I hesitated. "Why?"

"So we can set up that real date, of course." His voice was smooth, confident. But there was something softer there too, like he wasn't entirely sure I'd say yes.

My gut told me to shut this down, to tell him no, walk away and forget this ever happened. But curiosity gnawed at me.

"Y'know, you are pushing it," I stated. Back at the boat he'd made me nervous. I didn't quite feel that way now. Just indignant.

He nodded once, his demeanor was calm. But his eyes were pleading with me.

"Fine," I said, rattling off my number.

He typed it in, then shot me a text immediately. My phone buzzed in my pocket.

"Now you have mine too," he said with a smirk.

I exhaled, shaking my head. "You don't give up, do you?"

"Not when I find something worth chasing." His gaze lingered on me, heavy enough to make my breath hitch.

I didn't trust this—not fully. But I was intrigued. And that was dangerous.

"We'll see," I muttered, finally pulling my truck door open.

He chuckled, stepping back. "Looking forward to it, Leah."

I shut the door, gripping the wheel tightly as I started the engine.

As I drove away, my phone buzzed again.

Checking it at the stop sign in the parking lot exit, I saw the first message from the previously unknown message.

-It's Edward.

Then another below it popped up:

-Sweet dreams, Leah.

I stared at the message, my mind a swirling mess of warning bells and excitement.

Shit.

I had no idea what to make of it. The man had just thrown me off my game, spilling his guts and admitting to liking me. And now this? Was this how things went for him? Was it a game or just his way of playing some rich-man's apology tour? Either way, it felt like I was tangled in something I couldn't fully untangle.

I saved the number. Just leaving his name as "E." It felt safer that way. Just the letter. Less real, less complicated.

My hands gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly as I drove, the hum of my truck and the faint buzz of my phone the only noise filling the space.

At a red light I checked my phone. Biting my lip, expecting it to be Edward again.

Black: We're heading back to ur crib now.

I'd sighed, not bothering to respond. Fuck, I'm way in over my head. My mind was racing with everything Edward—flashing between moments from the first date, the boat, the auction, our conversation in the parking lot. My thoughts were like a storm, spinning and throwing bits and pieces of reality around. I wasn't sure what was going on with him or what to expect next, but I knew I didn't have a solid grip on anything anymore.

One minute, I thought I was in control, the next I was wondering if I was in way over my head.

By the time I pulled into my driveway, I felt like I'd been through a whirlwind. I needed a second to gather myself, take a deep breath, and refocus. But as soon as I stepped out of the truck, I felt everything hit me harder. That weird connection with Edward, his confession, the mess of emotions I'd been trying to bury—it all felt too big to ignore.

Once inside, I checked in on Seth. The faint sound of laughter and video game noise led me straight to his room. He was holed up with Jacob and Kujo, all three of them absorbed in the screen, as usual. I wouldn't dare interrupt them. Kujo's fuzzy head perked up from his spot on the pile of blankets on Seth's bed, his ears twitching at my presence. His tail wagged slowly before he flopped back down, too sleepy to be bothered with me.

The room reeked of sweat, feet, and that stale, all-too-familiar boy smell. Ugh.

I smiled softly to myself, watching for a moment before quietly backing out. It wasn't my scene. Not now, anyway.

Back in the comfort of my own space, I cracked open the window, letting in the cool night air as I reached for my rolling tray. It had been a while, and I needed this—the ritual, the release.

But, before that...Edward was still there, breaking through the surface of my thoughts.

I pulled out my phone again, fingers hovering over the screen for a moment. The chat was already pulled up, 'E' glowing at the top. I felt this pull to respond, to keep the connection alive—even though I wasn't entirely sure what I was doing. It felt instinctive, like I was just reacting without thinking too much.

I typed quickly, keeping it simple.

Me: Nite, Edward.

The phone slid from my hand as I tossed it onto the bed. I reached for a blue Game blunt from my tray, the shiny packaging smooth between my fingers before I ripped it open with my teeth. The faint scent of tobacco and something slightly sweet hit my nose. With practiced ease, I slid the blunt from its wrapping, taking my time as I split it open lengthwise with my fingertips, the paper peeling apart perfectly. The loose tobacco inside tumbled onto my tray, discarded without a second thought.

From the little bit of the eighth I had left, I plucked out a dense nug, bringing it to my nose for a quick inhale—earthy, skunky, and just what I needed. My grinder made quick work of it, the sharp teeth breaking it down into a soft, fluffy consistency. I carefully filled the empty wrap with the fresh green, rolling it between my fingers, shaping it until it was just right.

The finishing touch: my tongue slid along the seam, the familiar spicy, slightly numbing taste coating my lips as I sealed the blunt. Perfect.

I sparked up, the end glowing red as I took a deep, slow pull. The first inhale unraveled something in my chest, tension slipping away as the smoke curled in my lungs. Exhale.

The second hit was still swirling inside me when my phone buzzed against my thigh.

E: Oh, btw, I caught sight of your dance the other night.

My heart leapt into my throat. He was there?

As I thought of it, kinda made sense when he asked for my real name. If he was there, he heard the DJ calling me and Jessica's name on the mic. The energy was bonkers the previous night at work, and it was almost as if I could feel his eyes on me. It made me feel hot.

I felt like being cheeky. He seemed to enjoy that side of me, from what I could tell. So why not?

Me: Did you like it?

I took another easy rip off the blunt. Waiting patiently for a couple moments.

My phone went off twice without much pause between. I checked it with an involuntary smile.

E: I fucking loved it, wished I was the one dancing with you instead.

E: You almost saw me last night. Almost ripped that one guy's throat out of his mouth for touching you, but the big fella beat me to it.

I should have been creeped out. The idea of him lurking in the shadows, watching me, knowing what happened before I even told him—it should've sent a chill down my spine. But it didn't. Instead, the heat curled in my stomach grew stronger.

Me: Well damn...talk about protecting a gals honor

E: Hope I'm not being too much? I'm really happy I got to see you tonight.

The text made my stomach flip.

I hesitated for a second, thumb hovering over the keyboard before finally typing:

Me: You? Too much? Never. Tonight was… unexpected.

I stared at the screen, biting my lip, wondering if I should say more. Instead, I took another slow drag, watching the embers glow in the dim light, feeling the burn settle in my chest. Just before I could overthink it, my phone buzzed again.

E: Unexpected in a good way?

A small smile tugged at my lips as I exhaled, feeling lighter than I had earlier.

Me: I just wasn't expecting you to play detective and figure out where I work.

E: What can I say? I'm resourceful.

Me: Or just nosy.

E: Curious.

Me: Persistent.

E: I prefer "determined."

I laughed softly, shaking my head. That was a good one.

Me: Uh-huh. Well, next time, try using those skills for something more useful.

E: Like what? Finding out your favorite flowers? Or what makes your knees weak?

I bit my lip, rolling my eyes at my own reaction before replying.

Me: Sleep well, Edward.

E: Have a beautiful rest, Leah.

I leaned back, a satisfied grin on my face, feeling both the warmth of the blunt and something else inside me, as my phone buzzed once more. Maybe I was in over my head, but for now, I couldn't say I cared much.

The night felt like it had just begun.

E: Hope to talk soon.

Me: Yes, now, goodnite stalker

I was amused by my own response.

E: LOL

E: Determined...letting you walk away should be a crime.

My brow raised, I was wary about the words I was typing, but as I thought of Edward, I could feel the warmth clearly now. Pooling in my stomach and pelvic area. Sending a surge of bliss through me briefly. Like a taste of what I know he could actually make me feel.

Me: Well, sounds like I need some cuffs...

Me: Goodnight, Edward.

...

..

.