Black Thorns (Thorns Duet #2) by Rina Kent

She might not have told me her number, but she left it with Nate when she gave him her card.

Last night was the date I specified in the text.

She didn’t show up.

I don’t know why that made me fucking livid and drove me to googling her name.

Could be because if she did show up, I would get her, but she’s only doing it to keep her husband clueless about us.

Or maybe because her no-show means that she loves her husband enough not to cheat on him.

Fuck.

I’m backpedaling into the bitter asshole I was right after she left, and that jerk and I don’t get along. At all.

After I place my briefcase in my office, I get undressed and step in the shower.

I tip my head back, letting the scorching hot water cascade over me.

My mind is buzzing with strategies for Akira. I need to get close to him, which would force Naomi back into my vicinity.

She refused to come? Fine. I’ll make the choice for her. Or, more like, take it away so she realizes she should’ve never fucked with my newfound life.

Yes, it wasn’t perfect. Yes, it was all jaded and sometimes forced, but it was all mine. It was what I built for myself to escape her fucking ghost.

The doorbell rings and I roll my eyes. It must be Nate. Not only did he put Aspen on my case, but he keeps bugging me as well.

Stepping out of the shower, I wrap a towel around my waist and head to the door.

I look through the peephole to make sure it’s not the talkative old lady from next door. While she’s friendly and gives me homemade food sometimes, she can chat for hours on end.

It’s not Nate or even the talkative lady.

It’s…her.

The fucking nightmare.

The twisted dream.

Naomi.

She’s wearing an elegant dark blue dress, her hair is styled, and her lips are painted the color of blood.

Her gaze shifts to the side and she gulps, which means she’s nervous and out of her depth.

Naomi is here. Even if it’s a day late.

Seeing her in front of my door all pretty and done up awakens something inside me.

The beast that’s been dormant since she left.

The beast that I thought would someday rip his way out of my chest.

That someday is today.

The longer I stand here not opening the door, the more she fidgets, watching her surroundings.

The new Naomi doesn’t get anxious or show her vulnerabilities. She doesn’t have her lips parted or allow her eyes to widen.

She’s a blank, respectable slate—like her husband.

Not this Naomi.

This is different. She’s different from the person at the charity event or even in my office.

That version was for the public, this one’s for me.

And because she came to me on her own accord, there’s no way in fuck I’m letting her slip between my fingers.

I don’t open the door right away, though. She needs to have to wait like I did for seven years.

By the end of tonight, she’ll remember why the fuck she’s mine.

She’s not Akira’s or anyone else’s.

She’s fucking mine. Always has been and always will be.





25





Naomi





This is a terrible idea.

The worst I’ve had in years.

Or ever.

And yet, I can’t make my feet cooperate and take me away from here.

I can’t listen to the voice of reason ringing at the back of my head.

I steal a glance sideways to make sure no one is watching me. Sebastian’s building is vast and sophisticated, but it’s, thankfully, not full of people. So far, I’ve only seen a lovely old lady who was more than happy to let me in when the security outside asked who I was.

The thing is, I didn’t plan to come over.

I had an all-nighter at the office yesterday, approving designs and plotting Chester Couture’s next show.

In my mind, if I stayed busy, I‘d forget all about where I really wanted to be.

I’d forget about the star quarterback from my past.

But I was only fooling myself.

All I could think about was him. Sebastian fucking Weaver.

I typed and retyped a dozen messages but deleted them and kept obsessing all night long. My brain couldn’t stop for one second and the more time passed, the more questions filled it.

Was Sebastian mad that I stood him up? What if he goes to Akira?

That’s what brought me to his doorstep today. Or, at least, that’s what I tried to convince myself when I drove here.

I push the doorbell again, my finger trembling.

Am I too late? What if he really went to Akira? If it gets ugly—and it will—I have no clue how the hell I’m going to react.

My shifty gaze flits to my surroundings as the seconds tick by. They echo in my head like time bombs, increasing in volume the longer I stare at the closed door.

I reach into my clutch bag to retrieve my phone. I should’ve called him first. But I wasn’t exactly thinking when I drove all the way here.

The door clicks open and I startle, my hand pausing halfway in my purse. I straighten, my spine jerking upright as I wait for Sebastian to appear in the doorway.

One second passes.

Ten…

Twenty…

He doesn’t show up.

I push the door with a careful hand. “Sebastian?”

No answer.

Something malevolent pulls at the base of my stomach and my lips part as I slowly walk inside.