Page 58 of Wicked Temptations
My hands shook so hard that it took me two attempts to key the ignition.
The worst part wasn’t even what he’d said. It was that I’d let myself hope for something different. That touch to my hair had undone me completely, and I’d lost myself in it. It was such a silly little gesture. Thoughtless, probably. Muscle memory from some other guy Jude had cared about before he’d learned not to.
But I’d read everything into it. Built castles out of that single moment of tenderness, and then I’d jumped. I had launched myself into impossible conclusions and fixated on a future filled with happiness. Filled with him in places where the light exposed us.
I was such a fucking idiot.
I drove home through empty streets. My apartment was dark and cold when I got there. I didn’t bother with lights. I just stripped out of my clothes and fell into bed, then stared at the ceiling while trying not to think about anything.
Sleep didn’t come. I lay there replaying the fight. Every word. Every look on his face when I’d accused him of being damaged by his parents.
That had been cruel. I’d known it even as I’d said it. But he’d been pushing me away, and I’d wanted to hurt him back. I wanted him to feel as shitty as I did.
Mission accomplished, I guess.
Around five in the morning, I gave up on sleep. Made coffee. Sat at my kitchen table and tried to figure out what the hell I was supposed to do now.
We still had to work together. We still had to perform and touch and fight and play out our Hunter dynamic for screaming crowds who had no idea we were falling apart behind the scenes.
It made me want to be sick.
I could quit. Walk away. Tell Parker I needed to leave for personal reasons. Or just ghost the place completely. I wouldn’t lose that much of my pay, and it wasn’t like I was close enough to any of the crew to have them come looking for me.
I’d only taken this job because of Jude. That was pathetic but true.
I’d wanted to know him from the first time I saw him. He’d moved through the fog like something otherworldly, all lean muscle and controlled violence, and the skeleton paint had made him look deadly and beautiful at the same time. I’d stood there in the crowd like a star-struck fool while he’d stalked past me without a glance.
Then I’d gone home and obsessed. I looked him up online, found videos of his performances and then watched them over and over until I’d memorized every movement. And it had worked! I got the job and dream pairing, and I got to live out my fantasy of being his equal on the stage.
But then I’d gotten greedy. The professional partnership hadn’t been enough. I’d wanted more. I wanted him to look at me the way I looked at him, and for a few desperate moments in closets and bathrooms and the back of my car, I’d thought maybe I’d get it all.
I’d been stupid enough to think that having him physically would lead to having him in other ways. That the sex would open doors to something real. Something soft. That one day he’d touch my hair the way he had tonight and it wouldn’t surprise him. That it would be natural and easy.
I wanted him as a lover, as someone who wasmine, not just as a casual fuck.
I’d been so fucking naïve.
So, quitting would be the smart thing—the self-preserving thing. I could walk away before this got any worse and before I humiliated myself further by hoping for things he’d never give me.
But quitting meant admitting defeat. Meant letting him win. And I’d never been good at backing down from a fight, even when the fight was killing me.
***
The next shift wastorture.
I showed up early because my body was running on autopilot. Muscle memory dragged me to Ridgeway when every rational thought screamed to stay home. To call in sick. To do anything but face him.
I sat in my car watching the minutes tick down on my phone until I couldn’t justify waiting any longer. When I finally forced myself inside, Jude’s jacket was already hanging on its hook in the changing room. He was in the far corner, putting the finishing touches on his face.
The sight of it made my throat constrict.
We didn’t speak. I moved to the opposite side of the room and started gearing up, pulling on each piece of my costume with numb fingers. Across from me, Jude adjusted his holsters. The familiar clink of buckles filled the silence between us. Just yesterday that sound would have driven me wild, but now it just punctuated the awkwardness.
He never once looked in my direction.
Riley appeared in the doorway. “Parker wants everyone in the main zone for a quick meeting.”
“Yeah.” Jude’s voice came out flat and lifeless. He brushed past me on his way out, close enough that I caught his scent. Smoke and gel and that aftershave he used to mask the smell of sweat and leather.
