Chapters (45)
- Cover
- Full Page Image
- Dedication
- ALSO BY AIMEE MONROE
- ADDISON
- ADDISON
- WARREN
- ADDISON
- ADDISON
- ADDISON
- WARREN
- ADDISON
- WARREN
- ADDISON
- WARREN
- ADDISON
- ADDISON
- WARREN
- ADDISON
- WARREN
- ADDISON
- WARREN
- ADDISON
- ADDISON
- WARREN
- ADDISON
- WARREN
- ADDISON
- ADDISON
- WARREN
- ADDISON
- ADDISON
- WARREN
- ADDISON
- WARREN
- ADDISON
- ADDISON
- WARREN
- ADDISON
- WARREN
- ADDISON
- WARREN
- ADDISON
- EPILOGUE
- ABOUT AIMEE
When he stepped back, I realized he’d given me his suit jacket, and he was in nothing but a white button-up that was pulled tightly across his chest.
“Come stand by me,” he said, handing me a flashlight.
The brat in me wanted to protest, but the scared little girl ran to his side the moment he turned away, her fingers finding the back of his shirt and holding on for dear life.
Warren had already set up the spare for the back right tire. He kneeled on the dirty ground, not unlike the way he had kneeled for me in the art house. He didn’t comment on it, nor did he try to shoo away my grabby hands as he worked.
I was grateful for it.
I held the flashlight steady, trying to focus on him. The way the muscles in his neck tensed as he worked on the tire. The clinking sound as he tightened the bolts. It became harder and harder as my mind played tricks on me, whispering to me that someone was watching me.
Warren cursed under his breath.
“What happened?” I asked in a panic, my grip on him tightening. “Is everything okay?”
“The spare’s flat,” he said as he stood. I shined the light on him, taking in his rolled-up sleeves and dirty forearms, so unlike the perfectly put-together Warren I’d always seen. I couldn’t help it when my gaze fell to his thick, veiny forearms and hands. I could feel them back on my body, digging into my thighs as he tried to keep me still.
My body thrummed to life just looking at him. If I wasn’t so terrified of the dark forest behind me, I might just feel emboldened enough to climb him like a tree. Or ask him to fuck me against one.
“I’ll call someone,” he said. “Get in the car.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I leaned to the side, watching him as he made a call. The car was even worse than being outside, though. It was too quiet. So I focused on him. My security blanket for the night. He leaned against the passenger door, his arms crossed and a frown on his face.
When he lowered his phone, another sinking feeling grew in my gut, but just as I was about to open the door and ask him, headlights shined down the road.
Warren stood up and waved them down. The car immediately stopped and pulled in behind us as he motioned for me to get out. As he opened the passenger side door, I could finally get a look at the face of the man driving.
Warren’s face instantly turned into a scowl.
“Ezra!”
“Car trouble, huh?” he asked, giving me a smile. “Let’s get you guys somewhere warm. If you’d like, I can take you to my—”