More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
They were here. The Four Horsemen. They were Thunder Bay’s favorite sons,
Damon Torrance, Kai Mori, Will Grayson III, and—
Michael Crist,
“Night, Little Monster.”
Little Monster. Why had he called me that? I hadn’t heard that name in three years. Not since that night.
She thought she was nothing to me, insignificant and invisible. She wanted me to open my eyes and see her again so fucking badly, but she didn’t realize that I already did.
Being near her made me falter. It made me forget.
The closer you got to anything beautiful, the less beautiful it became. Allure was in the mystery, not the appearance.
Damon Torrance, son of a media mogul. Kai Mori, son of an influential socialite and banker. William Grayson III, grandson of Senator Grayson. And Michael Crist, son of a real estate developer.
I just wished they’d quit while they were ahead. They thought I was an easy target, and they mistook my quietness for weakness, but I was no longer their toy.
And the things that were irreplaceable in life were the only things
of value.
Our scrapes and bruises, tattoos, scars, smiles, and wrinkles told our stories, and I didn’t want a pristine
piece of wallpaper. I wanted her and everything she was.
Why her? Why, despite my mother, who always loved me, and my friends, who always had my back, was it Erika Fane who put the air in my lungs or made my blood run hot? She always got to me.
I would piss her off, I’d be difficult, and I’d be just as much of a nightmare to her as a dream, but after nearly seventeen years of this pull with her, I knew one thing. I would always circle her.
She was tearing me up, and I wasn’t sure I cared. I just wanted to burn.
I fell, and I never even tried to stop myself.
“Rika,” he whispered against my neck. “I need you. I need you every day, every hour, every minute . . .”
I could feel her everywhere. On my skin, in my chest, in my hands . . . The sweetness of her lips as she panted against my mouth in the steam room . . .
She was everywhere. Always everywhere. Years and years, and there was no shaking her. Every time I closed my eyes she was there.
She would say that I built her. That I created a monster, and that somewhere during the blood, tears, struggle, and pain, we realized that it was love. That all sparks lead to a flame.
