Clipped Wings (Clipped Wings, #1)

The downward spiral went on and on. At twenty I developed what quickly became a problematic coke habit. I didn’t kick it until I left Damen’s shop and opened Inked Armor. Being fucked up all the time wasn’t a good way to run a business. Chris and Jamie put up with a lot of shit while I got mine together. By that time I’d traded one addiction for another. Sienna offered me a new release; sex with no boundaries. The coke had been bad, but Sienna was worse. Eventually I kicked that bad habit, too. It took almost four years.

In the midst of all the chaos I found a way to manage the pain. Order had a calming effect. There was peace in perfection. Ultimate control over everything in my life, from the way my condo was set up to the people I chose to affiliate with, made living bearable. There were times when the isolation was difficult to handle, but it served a purpose. I decided who got close and by how much. But that wasn’t working with Tenley. She was the new variable, defying all my boundaries. No matter how much I controlled my environment, it did nothing to stop the storm raging inside me.





11





TENLEY





On Saturday, Hayden showed up at the store, unshaven and unkempt, looking more beautiful than any man covered in tattoos and piercings had a right to. His hair was an insane mess. He ran his fingers through it, which did nothing to force it into submission.

He rounded the desk to peer over my shoulder at the pile of books I was cataloguing. The titles would have been just as visible from the other side of the counter.

“I had a dream about you last night,” Hayden said conversationally, making goose bumps rise along my arms.

“Really?”

“Mm. Really.” His voice was liquid smooth.

“Are you going to tell me about it?” I asked, sounding embarrassingly breathless.

He leaned in, and I could feel the warmth of his breath as it caressed my neck. “I’m not sure you’d be able to handle it.”

I sucked in a sharp gasp when his lips touched my cheek. I wasn’t as good at this game as Hayden was. He was dangerous seduction, and I was limited experience.

He chuckled and skimmed the shell of my ear with a fingertip. “I like it when you wear your hair up. The industrial looks hot on you.”

I didn’t say anything as he walked away because I wasn’t capable of speech. It took me a minute to recover, and when I did, I left the protective cover of the desk and started shelving new books in their appropriate aisles. I stayed close to the front so I wouldn’t miss any customers. My location also gave me a decent view of the café where Hayden was ordering coffees.

On his trip back through the store Hayden spotted me, half hidden between the stacks.

He looked smug as he muttered something about skittish kittens and headed for me. He set the coffees on a shelf and leaned against it. “I forgot to tell you, I’ll have your design ready sooner than I thought. We could move our date up from Monday if you wanted.”

“Tomorrow?”

“After your shift?” he suggested.

“Definitely.”

“I’ll pencil you in.”

Overcome by the impulse to touch him, I took a step toward him. I faltered, though, and my eyes dropped to the floor. “Thank you.” I was so close to him; he smelled like cologne and art supplies.

“Hey.” His hand move in my peripheral vision. His fingertips drifted up my arm and skimmed my throat until he was cupping my face in his palm. He tilted my head up, and when I met his gaze, his eyes blazed with a hunger as acute as mine. His thumb brushed across my bottom lip. “You don’t need to thank me. My motives are entirely selfish.”

Turning my head to the side, he dropped a kiss on my cheek, the hard steel rings a stark contrast to the softness of his lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” I watched him disappear through the door and across the street.

Once he was gone I returned to the desk and sank into the chair. My sketchbook sat on the counter. I’d forgotten it at Inked Armor when I’d been there last. I’d been too afraid to go back and get it. A tiny white box was perched on top. Inside was a chocolate truffle in the shape of a cupcake.

*

On Sunday morning, I woke in my closet, cowering between my photo albums and the boxes I had yet to unpack. I dreamt I was being crushed between the seats of the plane. It marked a new low for my nightmares. On the upside, I wasn’t screaming, since I jammed my fist into my mouth, biting hard enough to leave marks. I shook off the residual anxiety and got ready for work. Later today I would get to see both my design and Hayden. That alone helped me push through the fatigue.

I left my apartment for Serendipity, noting a dip in temperature. The alley leading to the storefront became a wind tunnel, whipping my hair around my face. With each exhale a puff of breath hung suspended in the air before it disappeared, a fading reminder autumn had arrived and winter was on its heels.

Cassie was rearranging things in the window display when I arrived. A gust of wind followed me as I hurried in from the cold. Her hands went to her hips, and she glared at me as I shrugged out of my too-light jacket and stepped up into the display with her.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked, running through the closing procedures from last night. Everything on the list had been checked off.

“We have an issue,” Cassie said.

“What kind of issue?”

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