Page 47
Story: Tempted By Eden
“Only when I’m bored,” I tease, brushing my thumb over the corner of my lips.
He groans, tipping his head back. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
We spend the next hour eating lunch, stealing kisses between bites. I should ask him where we stand, to define this thing between us, but the words stick in my throat. I can’t bear to say it, not yet—not when the answer might be something I’m not ready to hear. Maybe I’m not ready to know if this is just lust for him. For now, I want to enjoy the moment. The calm before the storm.
Later, back at my desk, my phone buzzes. I glance at the screen, expecting it to be Dad sending me a cute picture of Leo, but the name “Hailee” flashes instead. I bite my bottom lip as I open the message.
Hailee
You’re on for Saturday. Le Jardin. x
I stare at the words, a sinking feeling creeping in. Setting the phone down, I run a hand through my hair, trying to steady my breathing.
Le Jardin.
A dull throb builds behind my eyes as the questions pile up, each one more suffocating than the last. I rub my temples, trying to fend off the headache that’s threatening to ruin the rest of my day.
I should tell James about Le Jardin. But now I’m second-guessing myself. Maybe it’s because I don’t even know if I have the right to feel guilty. As far as I know, this thing between us is casual. We haven’t defined it—we still haven’t put words to whatever this is.
So why do I feel like I’m betraying him? Why does the idea of working on Saturday make me feel like I’m doing something wrong? The logical part of me knows I need the money. Leo, Dad, the bills—they all demand more than I can give. Eden has been a blessing for me, and yet, the thought of stepping back into that world now, knowing James is tied to it… it feels different.
But why should I feel guilty for doing what I need to survive, when James is the one paying an exorbitant amount of money for a membership there? For all I know, he’s been back to Eden, picking someone else. I don’t even know if he’s seeing other women, or if he views the goddesses at Eden as a mere distraction. Maybe he still sees me that way.
The questions whirl inside me like a tornado. What if I show up on Saturday and he’s there, watching? Choosing someone else? The thought makes my fingers clench into fists. And the worst part is, I don’t know if I could handle it. The idea of him seeing me with another man, or of me watching him with another woman… makes me feel almost sick.
Whether I like it or not, James has a hold on me, and I’m not sure I know how to untangle myself from him.
I take a steady breath and expel it slowly, my thumb hovering over the buttons. The moment I hit Send, a cold wave of dread washes over me. There’s no going back now.
I could tell him everything—about working Saturday, about Leo—but once I open that door, there’s no closing it. Nothing will be the same. And I can’t afford to make the wrong move.
I’m teetering on the edge, just waiting to tip over. If I step forward, if I go to Eden on Saturday, something will break. Maybe it’s my heart. Maybe it’s his.
Or maybe, it’s us.
Chapter twenty-five
James
The amber liquid swirlsin my glass, catching the dim light of the living room as I tip it back and take another slow sip. The scotch burns down my throat, its heat a poor distraction for the tension clawing at the base of my skull. The alcohol is supposed to help, supposed to clear my head of Cora, but instead, it only sharpens the memories of her.
Her laugh. The flush that deepened in her cheeks when she smiled. How the sunset lit the flecks of honey in her eyes just before we…
Fuck.
I slam the glass down harder than I mean to, almost shattering the crystal. I run a hand down my face. It’s not supposed to feel like this.
She’s in my head. Even now, sitting alone at home on a Saturday night with half a bottle of scotch down, she’s everywhere. The memory of her lingers—her hair spilling over my pillow, the way her body felt under my hands.
She looked perfect in my home. Fucking perfect.
The thought makes my throat tighten. A relationship wasn’t part of the plan. Hell, none of this was. It was supposed to be casual. Simple. I wasn’t supposed to care this much.
I let out a deep breath and flip my wrist to check the time. Too late to join Dameon at Eden. Not that I need another reminder of her. Eden only brings her back into focus. I swipe my phone off the table, desperate for a distraction, and hit video call on the only person who knows how to pull me out of my head—Larissa.
The phone rings once, twice, before her face pops up on screen, framed by the chaos of her kitchen. My niece and nephew are running around in the background, a blur of pajamas and energy.
“Hey!” Larissa chirps, her warm smile instantly easing some of the pressure behind my tired eyes. “You look like hell. What’s going on?”
He groans, tipping his head back. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
We spend the next hour eating lunch, stealing kisses between bites. I should ask him where we stand, to define this thing between us, but the words stick in my throat. I can’t bear to say it, not yet—not when the answer might be something I’m not ready to hear. Maybe I’m not ready to know if this is just lust for him. For now, I want to enjoy the moment. The calm before the storm.
Later, back at my desk, my phone buzzes. I glance at the screen, expecting it to be Dad sending me a cute picture of Leo, but the name “Hailee” flashes instead. I bite my bottom lip as I open the message.
Hailee
You’re on for Saturday. Le Jardin. x
I stare at the words, a sinking feeling creeping in. Setting the phone down, I run a hand through my hair, trying to steady my breathing.
Le Jardin.
A dull throb builds behind my eyes as the questions pile up, each one more suffocating than the last. I rub my temples, trying to fend off the headache that’s threatening to ruin the rest of my day.
I should tell James about Le Jardin. But now I’m second-guessing myself. Maybe it’s because I don’t even know if I have the right to feel guilty. As far as I know, this thing between us is casual. We haven’t defined it—we still haven’t put words to whatever this is.
So why do I feel like I’m betraying him? Why does the idea of working on Saturday make me feel like I’m doing something wrong? The logical part of me knows I need the money. Leo, Dad, the bills—they all demand more than I can give. Eden has been a blessing for me, and yet, the thought of stepping back into that world now, knowing James is tied to it… it feels different.
But why should I feel guilty for doing what I need to survive, when James is the one paying an exorbitant amount of money for a membership there? For all I know, he’s been back to Eden, picking someone else. I don’t even know if he’s seeing other women, or if he views the goddesses at Eden as a mere distraction. Maybe he still sees me that way.
The questions whirl inside me like a tornado. What if I show up on Saturday and he’s there, watching? Choosing someone else? The thought makes my fingers clench into fists. And the worst part is, I don’t know if I could handle it. The idea of him seeing me with another man, or of me watching him with another woman… makes me feel almost sick.
Whether I like it or not, James has a hold on me, and I’m not sure I know how to untangle myself from him.
I take a steady breath and expel it slowly, my thumb hovering over the buttons. The moment I hit Send, a cold wave of dread washes over me. There’s no going back now.
I could tell him everything—about working Saturday, about Leo—but once I open that door, there’s no closing it. Nothing will be the same. And I can’t afford to make the wrong move.
I’m teetering on the edge, just waiting to tip over. If I step forward, if I go to Eden on Saturday, something will break. Maybe it’s my heart. Maybe it’s his.
Or maybe, it’s us.
Chapter twenty-five
James
The amber liquid swirlsin my glass, catching the dim light of the living room as I tip it back and take another slow sip. The scotch burns down my throat, its heat a poor distraction for the tension clawing at the base of my skull. The alcohol is supposed to help, supposed to clear my head of Cora, but instead, it only sharpens the memories of her.
Her laugh. The flush that deepened in her cheeks when she smiled. How the sunset lit the flecks of honey in her eyes just before we…
Fuck.
I slam the glass down harder than I mean to, almost shattering the crystal. I run a hand down my face. It’s not supposed to feel like this.
She’s in my head. Even now, sitting alone at home on a Saturday night with half a bottle of scotch down, she’s everywhere. The memory of her lingers—her hair spilling over my pillow, the way her body felt under my hands.
She looked perfect in my home. Fucking perfect.
The thought makes my throat tighten. A relationship wasn’t part of the plan. Hell, none of this was. It was supposed to be casual. Simple. I wasn’t supposed to care this much.
I let out a deep breath and flip my wrist to check the time. Too late to join Dameon at Eden. Not that I need another reminder of her. Eden only brings her back into focus. I swipe my phone off the table, desperate for a distraction, and hit video call on the only person who knows how to pull me out of my head—Larissa.
The phone rings once, twice, before her face pops up on screen, framed by the chaos of her kitchen. My niece and nephew are running around in the background, a blur of pajamas and energy.
“Hey!” Larissa chirps, her warm smile instantly easing some of the pressure behind my tired eyes. “You look like hell. What’s going on?”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81