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Dropping everything when he called because he “needed me” madehimhappy, not me.

The few instances of mediocre sex were something to look forward to and put up with all the other bullshit for, weren’t they?

Okay, even I knew the last one was a lie. But not every guy was amazing in bed or had a dick that could make you moan just by looking at it. James was adventurous, exciting, and enthralling. Every guy wanted to be him, and every woman wanted to be with him. He knew how to play that card, manipulating people to get what he wanted.

Including our editor.

Realizing all that while backing out of the conference room so I could pour bleach into my eyes was like a punch to the gut while a dull knife dug into my heart.

He used me.

And I allowed it.

The fucker never wantedme.He only wanted what I could do for his career by taking the best shots, finding the most fantastic and unknown destinations, and dropping everything when he needed me, like a clingy little puppy desperate for an ounce of attention.

“Fuck my life,” I muttered under my breath. “The bastard turned me into a touch-starved puppy. Awesome.”

So, instead of confronting the asshole like an adult, I’d marched to my desk, grabbed what personal belongings I could from my cubicle, and stormed out. Not that anyone followed. James was too busy eating Barbara’s cunt to notice me catching him or leaving.

Barbara, though… oh, she saw me. And winked.

Clue number one that the devouring happening on the polished mahogany wood wasn’t a first-time offense. She didn’t look surprised to see me or that concerned.

No, she looked like the cat who ate the canary.

Or the cat who was getting eaten?

Fuck my life.

Face in both palms, I inhaled deeply, the stench of fish and saltwater filling my nose. I was fine. What was most shocking was that I actuallywasfine. There were no tears or hurt lingering from what I saw and left behind. That should be a major sign that maybe I wasn’t as happy in the little life I’d carved out in Seattle after all. The second sign was a very unsuspected emotion.

Relief.

Profound relief that I was finally done and out of that toxic web that I had helped weave. Though I didn’t realize it at the time, all I was doing was trapping myself in a life I didn’t want or love.

I was so damn relieved that I’d finally cut all ties with that dumbass. Three years of working side by side together, and I was relieved that it was done. The web was demolished, and I was free to sprint far, far away to the one little town in Alaska that had been on my bucket list for far too long.

“This is a new start,” I said out loud. “A new me.”

“Good for you.”

Instead of responding to the surly driver—erm, captain, maybe—I flipped him the bird over my shoulder and pressed a hot cheek to the cold glass. This was my new start at twenty-eight years old. Where maybe I could excavate the parts of me I used to love, remember the areas of life I was passionate about, and bring them back to the surface. And this resort in Anchor Bay was the best place for me to do just that. The Nest was all about helping you find inner peace through isolation and living among Mother Nature.

Hopefully, Mother Nature would take pity on me and was kinder than that ho Fate.

I must have nodded off at some point, because the next thing I knew, the boat’s engines were more of a purr than a roar, and the rocking motion was not nearly as seasick inducing. Licking my dry lips and wiping at the corners for drool, I blinked away the sleep coating my eyes and sat up straight, back cracking with the quick movement.

“We’re here,” a deep voice rumbled, reminding me I wasn’t alone.

With my back turned, I rolled my eyes to the cloudy sky. I bit my tongue to keep from snapping at the grumpy asshole. Pretty sure the approaching bustling dock filled with boats of all sizes and adorable, small, brightly painted buildings indicated that we were finally here.

Once, a long time ago, it was a place for hopeful gold miners to strike it rich, but now, it was a tiny Alaskan town that had been revitalized and turned into a secret gem for nature lovers and extreme sports lovers alike. Though the town itself was small, the population less than a thousand, it was the starting point to many trails, amazing salmon fishing, and, in the winter, all kinds of various snow-centered activities.

Anchor Bay.

Place of my unforeseen dreams and holder of all my hopes.

No pressure, town, but I need a lot from you.