She’s still wearing the wedding dress. Our gazes catch and hold, and I can tell by the look in her eyes that she feels it, too. The need. The connection. But most of all, the danger. This is a new chapter of a very old book, and there’s no predicting how the story will end. I’m too much of a realist to imagine it will be happy, but I’m too far gone to care. Natalie Peterson is the brightest flame, and I’m the moth flying straight into her fire. Okay, baby. Let’s see how hot we’re gonna burn.
