“Yeah.” He chuckled. “You were giving me too much damn credit then.”

  Frowning, I tried to figure out what he’d meant by that. “Care to explain that?”

  “I was weak when it came to you. Not sure delving any deeper into the past is good,” he replied.

  For him. But he had his memories.

  “Then, tell me why you called me at least,” I said.

  “Because I missed your voice.”

  I closed my eyes tightly. I hadn’t expected that response.

  “You going silent on me now?” he asked.

  “No, I …” I put my hand on my heart. It felt funny. “You, uh, have an effect on me I’m not used to.”

  “That right there. That’s different. The old Shiloh, she wouldn’t say what she was feeling. I was always fucking guessing.”

  “If she felt like this, then it was because she was scared. She was a teenager, and, well, you were you.” I let out a laugh. “That’s intimidating.”

  “Fuck, Shiloh,” he groaned. “That’s about all I can take for one night.”

  I instantly regretted saying anything. I had said too much. Maybe I did understand the old Shiloh better than I’d thought I did.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “Oh, no. You’re not doing that. Don’t apologize for being honest.” He sounded tense.

  “But it was more than you wanted to hear.”

  He made a deep sound and muttered something I couldn’t make out. “I fucking wanted to hear it. It’s my fucking body that can’t take any more. Don’t get the two confused.”

  “Okay,” I replied, but I wasn’t sure I understood that.

  “I’m going to hang up now before I do something stupid. Good night, Shiloh,” he said.

  “Good night,” I replied, and then the call ended.

  I stared at the phone and sighed. That was a roller coaster I hadn’t been prepared to ride. I wasn’t sure how I was feeling now.

  I set the phone down and stood up to take my melted ice cream to the garbage disposal. I wasn’t in the mood for television now. A warm bubble bath and bed. I turned out the lights and locked up, then went to run my bath water. Remembering I’d forgotten my phone, I went back and got it from the living room. There had been a time two weeks ago that I didn’t keep up with my phone at all. Barely checked it. Now, I was unable to stay away from it.

  Seventeen

  Shiloh

  There were only two patients left on today’s schedule. It had been busy, but then it was flu season on top of other things. Strep seemed to be making its way around. Ace, Uncle Neil’s ten-year-old golden retriever, nudged my leg with his nose as I put the last patient file away.

  I smiled down at him. “You’ve had enough treats today.”

  His big brown eyes stared up at me, as if to remind me I was a pushover and that was why he loved me most.

  “Ten-year-old doggies do not need to eat too many treats. It’s bad for you,” I explained to him.

  It was clear Ace didn’t care about canine health. He just liked the taste of bacon.

  The front door to the office opened, and I stood back up straight to see a lady walking toward me with a pink box in her hand. She wasn’t either of the patients who had appointments coming up.

  I stepped up to the desk and greeted her. “Hello.”

  “I have a delivery for Shiloh Ellis,” she informed me.

  I looked at the pink box. I hadn’t ordered anything.

  “Uh, I’m Shiloh Ellis.”

  She gave me a bright smile that made the corners of her eyes crinkle. “Here you go. Enjoy!”

  I reached out and took the box, confused as I read the imprinted silver logo on the top—Huckleberry Treats. Where was this place? I lifted my head to ask her who had sent them and realized she had already turned and was headed out the door.

  “Excuse me. I’ve never heard of this place. Did someone send them to me?”

  She stopped at the door and looked back at me with a strange frown. “Yes. We haven’t made those in a few years, but the gentleman who ordered them said they were your favorite. He even paid extra to have us make those.”

  My eyes dropped back down to the package. There was a little quiver in my chest, and a grin spread across my face that I couldn’t seem to help. Setting the box down, I glanced back up at her. “Oh, well, thank you,” I told her.

  She nodded, then turned and left.

  Ace came over to put his face up on the edge of the table to check out the box too.

  I moved the box back enough so that there was no danger of him reaching whatever was inside before I opened it up and looked down at the contents. Although I’d never tried one, I knew they were called whoopie pies. A coffee shop Isaac had gone to daily had them on display. Except these weren’t chocolate or red velvet. They were a light violet in color and had pretty pastel sugar crystals on the center of each top. Isaac had said I hated whoopie pies when I tried to order one once. So, I never tried them.

  The sweet vanilla-bean smell made my mouth water. Ace whined beside me. I glanced down at him, then back at the box. I knew who had sent them. For a moment, I’d thought perhaps Wilder had sent me something. Until she had said the man who had ordered them said they were my favorite. Wilder wouldn’t know something like that.

  “What smells so good?” Uncle Neil asked, walking out of his office and standing on the other side of the desk. He leaned over to look down at the gift in front of me. “Lavender whoopie pies from Huckleberry. I’d forgotten about those. Haven’t seen them in years.” He looked up at me. “Who sent them? A patient?”

  I shrugged. “The person who delivered them didn’t say.”

  He frowned, then headed toward exam room one. “You take them. I can’t eat sweets at this age.”

  “Okay, thanks,” I replied, then closed the box and put it in a safe place.

  Finishing my workday was difficult. I glanced at my phone a hundred times, wondering if I should text Gage. Maybe call him when I got home. In the end, I did neither.

  I placed a lavender whoopie pie on the coffee table in front of me and sat down on the sofa with the television remote in my hand. Wilder hadn’t stuck his head out when I got home, and I hadn’t knocked on his door. I was curious about the lavender treats and wanted to try one. Having Wilder asking questions about them would ruin the moment. I hated I felt that way. I’d never drawn a line in our friendship before. We had always talked about everything. Gage was the first thing I didn’t want to share with him.

  My phone dinged beside me, and the tiny spark of joy I felt made me pause for a moment. This was not how I should react to this man. I wasn’t even sure it was Gage. I picked up my phone, and his name lit up the screen. I’d be lying if I said that didn’t make me smile.

  So, how are they?

  He’d sent them. I had known it was him, but having him confirm it was better.

  Be more specific.

  I pressed my lips together as I hit Send.

  Almost immediately, he began typing.

  You know what the fuck I’m talking about.

  I giggled, then winced at the sound of it. I was acting like a girl with a crush.

  If you mean the lovely lavender whoopie pies, I am about to try one now.

  You got them hours ago.

  I was working.

  There was a pause.

  I’m waiting, Shiloh. Try it.

  I reached for the plate and picked up what was basically two fat, soft cookies with cream in the middle. Opening my mouth, I took a bite. It was the most unique flavor I’d ever tasted. It was almost as if I could taste the lavender, but I wouldn’t have expected it to be this delicious. I’d expected it to taste like the vanilla-bean smell, but it was the cream that was vanilla.

  I picked my phone up.

  This is incredible.

  The dots that he started typing popped up, then just as quickly went away. I took another bite as I waited. This time, I let out a little groan. I couldn’t think of one thing I’d ever tasted that compared to this.

  Good.

  That was all he had sent. Nothing more. Disappointed, I thought about not responding, but felt like he at least deserved a thank-you.

  Thank you.

  A moment later:

  You’re welcome.

  Then, nothing.

  Eighteen

  Shiloh

  This was the second night I’d given Wilder an excuse for not going to get dinner with him. Part of me felt guilty. Wilder was my friend, and ignoring him because Gage might or might not text me tonight was crappy of me.

  However, the night after the lavender whoopie pies, he’d texted me, asking about my day. Then he had watched the episode of Gilmore Girls I was watching while making fun of what was happening. The only time he’d gone quiet was during the sex scene.

  Last night, he’d texted, asking me what I was eating for dinner. We had gone back and forth, covering everything from the basketball game that he was watching in the living room with Levi to Doreen wrapping up his cast so he could shower himself. He could go downstairs now and get around on his own more.

  My thoughts seemed to get stuck on him throughout the day, and as confusing as this man was, I didn’t seem to be able to stop myself from texting with him. When I had been around him, he’d seemed to hate me, but now that we never saw each other, he texted me daily. I wondered if there was a female alive who could ignore this man.

  After eating a sandwich, my last whoopie pie, and watching two episodes of Gossip Girl, I had to accept the fact that Gage wasn’t texting me tonight. The disappointment that came with that sank in my chest like a brick. I hated this feeling, and the more I texted with him, the more power over my emotions he seemed to gain.

  Opening a bottle of pinot noir, I poured a glass and went to run myself a bubble bath. Perhaps some hot water, wine, and music could ease this uncomfortable ache. I had only myself to blame for this. The man had kicked me out of his house, and I still continued to respond to him when he texted. Not because I was scared either. I did it because I wanted to. It was almost as if I physically could not ignore him. No matter how badly he humiliated me.

  Taking off my clothes, I stepped into the bath and sank down into the bubbles. Just as I was getting comfortable, my phone dinged, and I sat up, dried off my hands, and picked it up while that stupid flutter of giddiness replaced the heaviness that had been there.

  It no longer hurts to jerk off.

  I read that three times and squirmed in the tub. Okay, he was going to talk about this. I should ignore him. Put the phone down and act like I hadn’t read that. If I were smart, I wouldn’t let myself interact with him. Especially not about anything sexual. I was an idiot though.

  I texted him back:

  I hope you got some relief then.

  No more, Shiloh. Leave it at that. Be smart.

  More than once.

  I felt my nipples harden. Ugh, Gage Presley, why?! I was weak.

  And you are telling me this … why?

  Because I wish you weren’t. I didn’t need this visual.

  When I closed my eyes, it was the image of your mouth on my cock that did it. Felt like you should know.

  I sucked in air as I reread that. My body hummed with pleasure just from words on a screen.

  Me? I sent back to him.

  Yes. You.

  I laid my head back, breathing harder as I thought about him moving his hand up and down his cock. The sound of him groaning, thinking of me as he did it. His ripped chest flexing along with his bicep. Good Lord, I was only human, and that was too much. I slipped a finger inside me and let out a moan. My phone dinged again. I wanted to finish this, get my own relief first. I looked over at my phone lying beside the tub and read his text.

  You going quiet on me again?

  I didn’t want him to disappear. Not when I was about to give myself an orgasm with him being the inspiration. Biting my lip, I reached over and typed out.

  Just following your lead.

  I pressed Send. I thought that was more vulnerable than I needed to be with Gage. He could shut me down and hurt me so easily. He’d proven that over and over.

  The loud ring of the phone caused me to jump. Looking down at Gage’s name, I felt as if I’d been caught doing something wrong. He was calling me. The thought of answering him after I sent a text like that was equally frightening and exciting. It wasn’t like I would be seeing him again. There was comfort in hiding behind a phone.

  “Hello?” I sounded breathless.

  “Are you fucking yourself?” he asked roughly.

  “Well, you said you did, and I’m taking a bath, and it sounded nice,” I replied, feeling defensive.

  “Fuck,” he groaned. “Finish. I want to listen.”

  I sat up and shook my head as if he could see me. “I can’t do that.” But I wanted to.

  “Yes, the fuck you can. Now, stick those pretty fingers back inside that sweet pussy and fuck yourself. Now, Shiloh.” His hard, demanding voice made me tremble and the ache between my legs throb.

  “Okay,” I breathed as I picked up where I’d left off.

  “I want to hear you,” he growled.

  “Okay,” I panted.

  My breathing became erratic, and I could hear myself moan as I rubbed my finger over my clit. The fact that he was listening to me seemed dirty, and I liked that. It wasn’t something I’d done before.

  “Fuck, I wish I could see you. Run my tongue up and taste that sweet cream.” His voice was low and husky.

  “Oh God.”

  His nasty talk was hot.

  “I’ve had my tongue all over that pussy. Couldn’t fucking get enough of it. I know how addictive it is.”

  I wished I could remember that.

  “I didn’t think we’d—” I couldn’t make sentences. My hips bucked against my hand.

  A low chuckle left his chest. “You have no idea.”

  I wanted an idea. In my state of arousal, I didn’t care that he was cruel and mean. I didn’t care that he had women come and suck his dick. Right now, I wanted to be that woman.

  “Did we …” I panted. “Is that all we did?”

  “No, that’s not all. I was the first dick to sink into that tight pink pussy. It was my dick you came on the first time. So fucking sweet. That night still tortures me.”

  My orgasm hit me, and I cried out, sloshing water over the side of the tub as I jerked against my hand.

  “Still sounds as fucking sweet,” he breathed into the phone.

  I gasped and lay there, staring at the ceiling, not believing I’d just done that.

  “Good night, sweet baby.”

  Then, the call ended.

  I laid the phone down and closed my eyes.

  I had given my virginity to a guy five years older than me? One who was dangerous?

  I covered my face with my hand. Former me had been crazy. But I couldn’t blame her for it. That man could make a nun act stupid.

  Nineteen

  Gage

  Getting my cast cut down to below my knee made things a hell of a lot easier. Finally getting to come downstairs again was one step closer to getting my life back. Doreen wasn’t needed anymore, and today, I was free of her bossing me around.

  Several of the guys had money riding on the basketball game that was on the flat screen, and Destiny had been keeping my whiskey glass full.

  Fucking pissed me off that none of this put me in a good mood. Levi had already said something about my foul mood. I’d told him to fuck off, and he’d laughed like it was hilarious. Asshole. He’d left to go get food. Huck and Trinity were out of town, so we had no one cooking for us.

  Destiny ran her nails through my hair, and I fought the urge to shove her away from me. She didn’t deserve my shitty attitude. Fuck knew she had put up with a lot from me, yet never bitched about it. She never pushed for more or sulked. That was the kind of easy a man needed.

  I tipped my glass back and took a long drink. The fact that I’d fucking listened to Shiloh get herself off on the phone three nights ago was still driving me crazy. I had purposely not texted her again. She was dangerous. I’d been a fucking idiot, thinking I could be near her or even have contact with her and not get pulled in. Wondering what the fuck she was doing on a Friday night made me tense. The itch to get my phone, go outside, and call her was clawing at me.

  Why couldn’t I just be happy with Destiny? There was no threat there. She wouldn’t mess up my head. There would be no fucking crazed monster emerging when she flirted with another man. No possessiveness. It would be worry-free. Drama-fucking-free.

  Destiny reached down and ran her hand over my shoulder and traced patterns on my arm. I wasn’t sure when she’d picked one of us, but it was clear she had. Levi hadn’t even been on her radar the past few times she came over. It had been all me. Not that Levi cared. He wasn’t territorial either. Never had been.

  “You need anything?” Destiny purred in my ear.

  Yeah, to forget Shiloh Ellis.

  I shook my head.

  My phone dinged, and I jerked it out of the pocket of my jeans like the crazy fucker I was, only to see Levi’s name. Opening it, I expected him to be asking something about what he was picking up. Although he was the one who had ordered the food. I hadn’t given a shit.

  Looks like Shiloh found her a man.

  And there was a photo of Shiloh sitting at a table, smiling at some fucking guy across from her.

  The pounding in my temples as I glared at the image on my screen was going to lead to fucking violence. I hadn’t needed to see this shit. Why the fuck had Levi sent it to me? And who the motherfucking hell was that guy?

  “Isn’t that the nurse you fired?” Destiny asked over my shoulder, and I sat up, moving away from her.