Page 21 of Her Ruin

I left a little later, promising him we were on schedule and I had everything under control, and hoped I wasn’t tempting fate.

The walk-through at the boat club in the next town over was quick and simple. The view over the lake was pretty, and the client’s requirements were basic but functional.

By the time I finally walked through my front door, exhaustion weighed heavy on me. I kicked off my heels, tossed my blazer on the chair, poured myself a glass of wine, and collapsed on the couch.

My phone vibrated with a new text message. I contemplated leaving it, but thinking it was Julian, I got up and fished it out of my purse.

You work fast, Isla.

I frowned, staring at the screen, the number unknown.

Who is this?

Three dots appeared.

You already know.

A chill ran through me.

Zayn.

CHAPTER7

ISLA

While I satat my desk the next morning, my pen tapped off my notebook. I should’ve deleted the message.

Instead, I let it linger in my phone, a reminder every time I opened my messages, taunting me like a dark promise.

You work fast, Isla.

I’d stared at that for what felt like hours, but I was sure it was more like a minute. Minutes. I kept picking up my phone and looking at the brief exchange.

I’d spent more time than I should wondering why two messages had unsettled me so much.

Laying my phone face down on the table, I picked up my notebook instead. The list of things I had to do for an upcoming event blurred together.

Focus, Isla.I needed to be sharp. No distractions.

But the truth? Zaynwasa distraction. No, he was more than that. He was a storm.

I knew it in high school. I knew it four weeks ago when he walked into Elixir, all smirks and confidence, taking up space with every step. In high school, I had control. I thought I could handle him.

I was as deluded then as I was probably now. No. I waswisernow. I already knew he was dangerous. He had me second-guessing everything, and I didn’t like it.

Like the time I asked him to kiss me so, when I played seven minutes in heaven, I would knowhowto kiss someone. I didn’t want to kiss Julian any more than he wanted to kiss me. The very thought of it made both of us gag. Julian had told me just to kiss someone, it was dark, it was in a closet, and it was expected to be rough at first.

But what if my whole seven minutes was rough? I couldn’t take that chance. I was a wallflower. I was boring. I was seventeen years old and had never been kissed.

I mean…gawd, how would I live it down if I didn’t know what I was doing?

So, I went to Zayn. Because that man kissed anyone, and every other day, there was a different girl at his side, hanging on to his every word. I’d seen him make out with girls at parties. I’d heard all the sighs and swoons over ZaynFreakingMcCabe in the corridors, in the dining hall, and in my classes.

When the harsh reality of that evening pushed me to desperation, I’d gone hunting for a sure thing. Zayn.

My eyes drifted to the window as I remembered the way my heart had raced when he leaned down, his lips a hairbreadth from mine. I’d shut my eyes because I was sure he was going to refuse, and I didn’t want him to see my disappointment. But he hadn’t been mean. He hadn’t played a joke.

Zayn McCabe had been my first kiss, and it had been lovely. Better than lovely. My second kiss was so disappointing compared to that. My third was not much better. In time, I stopped comparing.

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