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“Please, Journey,” she says with sadness in her tone. “Please just go.”
CHAPTER 12
WREN
No, thanks.
“Nothing happened, if that’s wh—”
“Go!” I scream, willing my tears to remain unshed until I’m alone.
Despite my refusal to look him in the eye, I can feel him boring holes into me with his stare. Heat licks my skin, and I silently beg my traitorous body to calm the fuck down. Apparently, even when I’m pissed at and scared of this man, the effect he has on me is unparalleled to anything I’ve ever experienced.
“Wren, look at me,” he says firmly. I shake my head vigorously, and he sighs. “Fine. I’ll go, but this doesn’t mean I’m giving up.”
I open my mouth to argue with him, but his retreating footsteps force me to stay silent. My front door opens and closes, and for the first time since I woke up, my heart rate begins to slow.
Scrambling from the bed, I race to my living room to look out the window and catch a glimpse of Journey riding his Harley outof the parking lot. The warmth I felt earlier fades to a bitter cold, and I find myself wanting to run after him.
Crazy.
Rather than do something stupid, I head to the bathroom to take a hot shower. It doesn’t matter how my body feels, or how a piece of me wants to let Journey in. Someone like me isn’t built for relationships, and someone like him can’t possibly take on the immense stress that comes from my disability.
I don’t linger in the shower, knowing that I need to distract my mind. As soon as I’m done, I dry off and dress in comfortable clothes so I can work on my latest assignment.
Flipping the light on in the spare bedroom, I take in the small art studio I’ve created since moving in a few years ago. There was a time in my life that I resented the fact that I couldn’t hold a normal job, but I’m at peace with how things are.
Or I had until a certain biker barreled into my life.
Journey has remained on my mind since that first night with him, and I’d accepted the fact that all he’d ever be was a memory. But then I woke up this morning, and there he was.
When he said the name Annie, I knew he witnessed an aspect of my life that I don’t share with just anyone. He’s been a memory I couldn’t shake, but now, he’s weaved a web around my soul, and I’m afraid of what that means.
Nope. Not going there.
I throw myself into my illustrations for the next several hours, only stopping when my stomach growls. I tend to forget that food is a necessity when I’m lost in my work.
Taking a break for sustenance, I grab my cell on the way to the kitchen so I can check my emails while I eat. I heat up some leftovers and carry it to the living room, where I sit on the couch and dig in.
When I tap my cell’s screen, it comes to life, and I see that I’ve got a barrage of missed texts from Leah.
Shit.
Leah: Just checking in on u after last night. Hope ur ok
Leah: Wren, I’ve been patient, but ur leaving me on read and I’m worried
Leah: Dammit, respond to me!
Leah: If I don’t hear from u soon, I’m coming over
Her last text came through twenty minutes ago, and I breathe a sigh of relief that she hasn’t shown up yet. I switch to her contact info and hit the call button.
“Where the hell have you been?” she demands when she answers, worry clear in her tone.
“Sorry, I’ve been working. You know how I get sometimes.”
She snorts. “Yeah, yeah, I do. But shit, Wren. After the way you left Ballinger’s last night and the way Journey took off after you, I was freaking out.”
