Page 19 of Taking Denver

Tell him to go. Save him from you.

But then he pulls the covers over my shoulder, squeezing me tightly before kissing my forehead, and I cling to him like a life raft in the shipwreck of my life.

“Denver.”

I stir, groaning into the pillow. Sleep toys with the edges of my brain, a bizarre dream about a peanut butter carousel still singing in my mind. “Go away.”

Ethan laughs softly. “Not a morning person?” I grunt in response. “I’m going back to my room.”

I open one eye, my face half-pressed into the pillow. “What time is it?” I sound like I’ve bitten into that peanut butter carousel, my voice thick and cloying.

“Seven.”

“You better mean PM.”

He brushes my hair back. “Can I see you later?”

Now I’m awake. My sleep-addled brain kicks into high gear, and I stare at the handsome, wonderful, funny man who wants to see me again. The man who made me laugh until my sides hurt, who had kissed me like I was his answer to everything, who had beaten the living daylights out of a threat. A man who might not see his next birthday if he stays with me.

But why am I considering ending what is probably only a few weeks of fun?

Sure, there are risks to knowing me. Blah, blah, gangsters, blah, but what about my happiness? People in my orbit carry the guns, not me—not unless absolutely necessary, anyway. I didn’t choose to be born into this life. I was pushed into this world screaming and covered in blood and will likely leave it the same damn way, but none of that was my choice.

So, maybe I’m jumping the gun. I internally flinch at the wording, but maybe I am. I could have a few weeks of fun with a random guy on vacation. It didn’t mean he’d end up hanging by his ankles from the apple tree in Ranger’s garden, sobbing, bleeding, and eventually promising never to see me again.

That could only happen once in a girl’s life, right?

“Yes.” I smile. “I’d love to see you later.”

Ethan’s smile warms every part of me, and his kiss is soft. “Wanna go to the beach?”

There’s nothing I want to do more.

Chapter 7

Denver

Istand outside room 309, but I still don’t knock.

I can’t remember the last time I went on a date.

But this isn’t that serious, right? It’s the beach. It’s a vacation lay.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Wesson huffs and shifts on his feet.

“Hush,” I hiss and refocus on the door. “I’m getting there.”

Seemingly not believing me and fed up, Wesson barks. I go unnaturally still, as if doing so will undo the noise, but the door swings open. It isn’t Ethan who opens it, though. A tall, blond man smiles down at me. He’s in a gray shirt and swim shorts, clearly hiding a spectacular body beneath his clothes.

I blink. “How many other hot men are in that room?”

The man laughs, resting a hand on the doorframe. “You must be Denver.”

My reputation precedes me. “I am.” I eye the empty room behind him. “This is Ethan’s room, right?”

“Yep. I’m Sebastian.” He holds out a hand. In the brightly lit hall, I spot the gold band around his finger. A wedding ring. I breathe a little easier and shake his hand. “Is Ethan here?”

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