![]() It’s understandable, but it means I don’t have any wingmen to stop me from doing this. Besides, Miller’s girlfriend is expecting a baby soon, so he’s not interested in being anywhere she’s not. They’re both in committed relationships, so a call at nine at night for an impromptu trip to the bar isn’t an option. ![]() I might’ve been able to ignore the last one if my teammates and closest friends, Randy Ballistic and Miller Butterson, weren’t nailed down by their balls. So I’m sitting here staring at the last two messages-the one containing her room number, and the one from an hour ago telling me she’s getting impatient and won’t wait much longer for a response. ![]() I scroll past the first nine to the ones that brought me here, to this place I shouldn’t be:Īround and around it goes. Tash, my ex-or whatever the fuck she is to me-is in town. ![]() I check my phone and scroll through the messages that began to accumulate late last night. Or that the process is going to cure my guilt and alleviate my need to atone. I come back to the people who hurt me, and I let them do it over and over again, always hoping maybe one day the end result is going to be different. ![]() The whole breaking-the-cycle thing is hard to do. Because even though I know better, I can’t help myself. Instead, I shift into park and cut the engine. I grip the steering wheel and take a few deep breaths, willing myself to put my Hummer in reverse. A PUCKED SERIES STANDALONE COMING FEBRUCHAPTER 1 ![]()
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