Page 5

FOUR

DAYNA

My mouth feels like I licked a cactus. The dramatic groan that spills from my lips is both a cry for help and a reminder of why I shouldn’t mix tequila and wine.

How much did I drink last night?

Too much.

The bar was free, and I have zero self-control.

I peel my eyes open, a little scared of where I might be, and relief floods me at the familiar walls. Thank fuck I’m in my bed. The throb along my temple is punishment enough without waking with regrets.

Why the hell do I allow myself to drink so much? If I’m being honest, I’d admit I have a problem, but honesty is for people who want to deal with their shit. I want to bury mine in deep fucking holes where no one will ever find any of the things that tear through my delicate, broken walls.

I’m fine… I’m?—

Screwed .

I fucked Ivy’s biker friend.

It comes back to me in a rush, as if the forgotten pieces are stitched back together in the clarity of the morning light streaming through the gaps in my bedroom curtains.

Every humiliating word that spilled from my mouth plays on an embarrassing loop. Oh. Fuck .

I cover my face with my pillow. Maybe I can suffocate myself and forget any of it happened.

The man is… well, he’s gorgeous. There’s no other word for it. Dash has a body designed for sinning and I took full advantage of that. The ache between my legs is a delicious reminder of just how much.

I let him fuck me against the wall in some corridor in Maylie’s strip bar. That might be a new low, even by my usually shit standards.

Not even a bed.

I groan into the pillow. “Fucking hell, Dayna.”

But it made me feel something, even if it was only while he was inside me. I was able to ignore that eroding darkness that clings to my bones. I felt worth something because he wanted me, even if it was only my body.

Dash…

He was nothing more than a bandage for the wounds I carry.

I force myself out of bed and into the shower. I can feel where he’s been inside me as I wash myself, feel the invisible marks he left on my skin where he touched me.

I’ve never felt that before, not with any of the men I’ve been with, and I don’t want to feel it with him either. Sex isn’t a gateway to something more. It’s not a path to picket fences, marriage, babies, and a happily ever after.

It’s a balm to calm the noise in my head, to drown out the feelings of loathing that sit in my chest like barbs.

Dash is just another victim of my spiral into the pit I’ve been trying to crawl out of since I was eight years old and my family lost everything.

He’s not future plans.

Once I’m done scrubbing my bad decisions from my skin, I get ready for work. I tie my hair in a tight ponytail and pull on my uniform.

I already worked all week at my office job, but I had to take a second position in a small coffee shop to cover the rest of my bills.

Living alone in a city is expensive as hell, and I would rather eat broken glass than ask my mother for help.

But my two jobs barely get me through the month, leaving only a small amount for nights out—providing I get my drinks bought for me, and I’ve become pretty good at getting men to do that.

Somehow, I get through my shift, though I puke my guts up twice. The alcohol I chugged last night like it was water in the desert wasn’t so great coming back up.

By the time I finish, all I want to do is crawl into bed, but I have a message from Ivy asking if she can stop by. Rather than have her drag herself, Seren, and all the baby stuff with her, I go to her apartment.

When I knock on the door, my stomach is suddenly knotted. I hate the way my skin prickles and the way nervous energy spreads along my spine as I wait for her to open the door.

Dash isn’t going to be hiding behind the door. You’re not going to have to look your mistake in the eye.

Not yet, at least.

When she opens the door, I quickly gauge her mood, and the smile is easy, but there’s tension beneath it.

She steps aside to let me in, shifting her daughter in her arms. Seren is fucking cute, but I don’t know how Ivy does it. Kids are hard work.

And I would screw up a child far worse than I screw up myself.

“You got a new job?” she asks, nodding to my uniform as I slip my jacket off and flop onto the couch like a dying swan. My back is aching and my head is still doing the tango.

And I also don’t want to answer that question. Ivy knows about the lost Harrington fortune, about my dad going down for tax fraud, but sometimes I think she assumes I have my life together.

I don’t.

“It’s just for a month or two,” I lie. I’ve been working at the coffee shop for half a year. “I wanted a pair of shoes that cost more than my rent.”

Also a lie. I can’t remember the last time I bought anything designer—or anything that wasn’t necessary to survive. But even Ivy expects me to act a certain way, and I give her exactly that.

“You look… tired.”

“Hungover,” I correct as she places Seren in her bassinet. “Did you have fun last night?”

“Yeah.” Her eyes narrow. “I heard you did too.”

Great. She knows about me and Dash. I wave off any concerns she might have. “It was nothing. So have you and Riot set a date for the big day?”

She doesn’t let me side step or deflect. “Dayna. What happened?”

I blow out a breath. “I was drunk. Like really drunk and the man looks like a fucking Greek god. I’m only human, Ivy. Besides, what’s a little mutual fucking between two consenting adults?”

She stares at me, and I hate how exposed that makes me feel. “Dash is a good guy.”

I bristle at the implication, even though I know that’s not what she means. I roll my eyes. “Don’t worry. I won’t corrupt your friend.”

“That’s not what I meant. I just… If you like him you should go for it. He’ll treat you good.”

Her words are like an icy bucket of water over my head. Commitment . Trapped in a relationship with someone peeking beneath my masks, trying to control me? No thanks.

“Babe, I wanted to get my vagina destroyed. Not settle down. I’ll leave the family vibes to you.”

Usually, I’m pretty good at selling my bullshit, but Ivy doesn’t buy it. She never does. This is the problem with knowing someone for so long. My best friend knows everything about me.

“I think that’s what you tell yourself so you don’t have to want it,” she says quietly, as if she hasn’t just ripped my chest open and left me bleeding on the floor.

I shake it off, steel my spine and become Dayna Harrington again.

“It’s really not that deep, Ivy. I wanted sex, and I got it. You don’t have to worry about deeper meanings. There are none. Dash probably doesn’t even remember my name or my face. I’ll just be another rung on his bedpost.”

Saying those words leaves behind is sticky ugliness that I don’t expect and I’m not sure how to deal with. Why do I want him to remember my name and my face?

It was just sex. Get a grip.

“I don’t think he’s like that,” she says slowly. “Nate said that?—”

I cut myself off before she can get on whatever matchmaking crusade she’s on. “Please. He fucked me against a wall in a place called Temptation. I don’t think your boy is about hearts and flowers.”

Again, my voice is light. Too light. I’m not sure I even believe the words coming out of my mouth anymore, but I can’t admit that these one-night stands chip away at pieces of me that I no longer have left to give up.

I can’t tell my best friend that I sleep with random men just so I can feel something for a time.

I can’t admit to her just how fucked-up I am. I can’t let anyone see that.

“So, you wouldn’t want things to go further with him?”

Yes. Maybe.

“No. It’s bad enough I let it go that far. I don’t want to cause problems for you or Riot.”

Thankfully, Seren fusses in her bassinet, and Ivy lets me off the hook, just for a moment, just enough that I’m able to breathe for a second without being scrutinised.

It doesn’t feel right to sit here, pretending to be someone I’m not, but I’ve been doing it for so long I don’t know how to be any different.

“I can get Dash’s number for you if you want it.”

I blow out a breath. She’s trying to help, trying to be a good friend, but she doesn’t see how she is stripping me bare. She doesn’t see that her words are cutting every part of me to shreds. “Pass. I don’t think he and I would work as more than what we were.”

“Dayna… I don’t know why you want to punish yourself like this. You deserve to be happy.” My throat clogs, and I swallow back that painful lump. I don’t think happiness happens for people like me. “I wish you would see yourself the way we see you.”

If she doesn’t stop, I’m going to lose my composure. “I am happy. And I see myself perfectly fine. Stop trying to fix something that’s not broken.”

I stand. The air is suddenly so thick I can hardly drag in a breath. I can’t do this. I can’t let her see me.

“As fun as this is I have things to do. I don’t have a hunky biker to take care of me.”

I say it with a smile through gritted teeth. I am so tired of trying to shoulder everything, of being the one carrying the mental load of a life that was never meant to be alone. I’m just… tired .

But I don’t let her see that. I can’t. Vulnerability is a poisoned chalice that I refuse to drink from.

She comes to her feet with me, and I hate the concern I can see written on every line of her face. I don’t want her to worry about me.

I give her a quick hug, just enough to let her know I’m okay, but not long enough for me to feel anything.

“Let’s do a liquid brunch on the weekend. Really celebrate your engagement. You, me, Katie.”

I hold my breath, scared she might pull me up on it, might force the conversation somewhere I don’t want to go, but she doesn’t. All she says is, “Okay. But if you change your mind…”

“I am not a one-dick woman, Ivy. Variety is the spice of life and commitment is a chain. No offence.”

“None taken,” she murmurs, a crack of a smile dancing along her lips.

She is worried, but not enough to stage an intervention, not yet.

I kiss her cheek with a dramatic flair. “See you soon, bitch. Make sure that hunk of man is ruining your vagina too.”

I keep my smile in place until I’m in the lift, heading down to the foyer. Only once I’m alone do I allow it to fall.

The worst part of all of that isn’t that Ivy sees me, really sees me, it’s that I had a hint of hope when she offered me his number, and that… that’s dangerous.

Because I can never settle down and find happiness. Not without destroying it and myself in the process.