BEING THAT IT WAS A Sunday, the shelter was almost completely full when I walked in. I knew from the briefing we’d received that the ladies participated in community activities and work skills on a regular basis throughout the week, but the weekends were for downtime.
Nina raised her brows when she saw me walk in carrying two oversized garbage bags, and I told her there were more in my car. She sent another volunteer to help me carry them in, and within two minutes, the entire contents of my closet were sitting in the middle of the people who probably needed them the most.
All the trophies I’d collected, the material objects I’d lusted over and worked so hard for, scheming and manipulating… they had very suddenly and without warning lost their luster. When I looked at them now, I was disgusted by everything these clothes and shoes represented. But I knew they still had a purpose; it just wasn’t for me.
“I don’t know if any of it’s practical,” I told Nina. “But I figured maybe they could get some use out of these.”
“Clothes are always practical for women in crisis,” she said. “I can’t thank you enough for doing this.”
My cheeks flushed with heat when she walked into the center of the room and made an announcement, publicly thanking me for my donation and telling the ladies to come up and take their picks.
I didn’t want the acknowledgment, but I received it nonetheless. Now that I had done my good deed, I was ready to run, but the director proceeded to lure me into conversation as the feeding frenzy began. The women tore through the bags, gasping at the designer labels and clinging to whatever piece they chose like it was their lifeline. Some even had tears in their eyes as they thanked me, and admittedly, I had to look away. I didn’t want them to think I was good, especially when I had done bad to get these items.
“I should go,” I said.
“Wait!”
I turned around to find Luna staring back at me, a pained expression tarnishing her pretty features.
My eyes narrowed in on her. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s Sunday,” she said. “I work here on Sundays.”
I didn’t answer, and I still wanted to leave, even if she was trying to express how sorry she was.
“Can I talk to you for just a minute?” she asked. “Please?”
Rightfully, I should have left. She deserved it. But I wanted to know what the hell she was thinking last night, so I followed her to an isolated corner of the building and crossed my arms, waiting to hear whatever she had to say.
“What you did in there was a really good thing,” she said.
“That’s it?” I glared. “That’s all you have to say?”
Her eyes drifted to the floor, and she shook her head. “The drink changes you. Just be careful about making too many big, life-altering decisions right away.”
“You didn’t tell me what was in the drink,” I snapped. “You could have killed me.”
“It’s safe, I swear,” she promised. “It’s totally authentic and prepared by a shaman, or I would have never let you take it. I never could have known how strongly you’d react to it. I never intended to cause you pain. It was supposed to be a spiritual experience.”
“You call lying in the middle of the desert puking my guts out a spiritual experience?”
“Your body was expelling negative emotions. Trauma.” She bowed her head. “I just wanted it to help you. I thought you needed it.”
I crossed my arms and took a step back from her. “How could you possibly know what I need? You don’t know me. And I don’t know what kind of stuff you’re into, but this isn’t what I do.”
She looked up, eyes bright. “You feel different today, don’t you? Lighter? I can tell in the way you carry yourself. You are softer. The drink did that.”
I wanted to deny it, but I didn’t because maybe she was right. I did feel better. “Look, I don’t know what it did or didn’t do, but you shouldn’t have tricked me. I was really sick last night.”
“I know.” Her pale red eyebrows pinched together. “I’m sorry. It’s always difficult to tell the intensity of someone’s first time. You have so many demons, I could not have predicted them all.”
Her words triggered a fragment of a memory from the night before. Something she’d said when she was reading me. She seemed horrified by something she felt, and I didn’t want to buy into her so-called abilities, but I couldn’t help being curious about it.
“Last night, when you read me, you said you saw something, and then you wouldn’t tell me what it was.”
Her face fell, and she shook her head. “Some things are not meant to be known until they happen. You can’t change fate; you can only survive it.”
I didn’t like that response, and I was prepared to argue, but she nodded behind me. When I turned, Lucian was walking through the door, his eyes scanning the room before they landed on me.
Luna grabbed my hand and whispered in my ear. “Please don’t hate me. Call me if you can forgive me.”
She disappeared, appropriately, right before Lucian arrived at my side.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. “I thought you had some work to do at the office.”
“I did.” He glared at Luna’s retreating form. “But then I saw you left the house again.”
“You never told me not to.”
“I thought it was implied after last night.”
When I looked into his chocolate eyes, it occurred to me he was really here out of concern. He didn’t like Luna based on his first impression, and I couldn’t blame him for that after he’d found me wandering through the desert like a lunatic.
“I’m coming home now,” I said.
He led me toward the door, his hand pressed against my lower back, firm and strong. “I’ll drive you.”
“But my car—”
“Ace will pick it up. You shouldn’t be driving in this part of the city by yourself.”
I didn’t argue. We buckled in and sped off, Lucian handling the Shelby he reserved for weekends like a professional racer rather than a lawyer. There were so many different facets to him, I wondered if I would ever fully understand who this man was. The two years that seemed like a lifetime in the beginning now felt like a small dot on the map of my life. I had so many questions, and so little time to ask them. But the first was why Lucian pulled into the mall and found a parking space.
“What are we doing here?” I asked.
He gave me a sly smile. “You’ll probably need some new clothes.”
“Oh. Yeah, I guess I probably will. But don’t you have work to do?”
“Always.” He sighed. “But I think today, it can wait.”
My eyes wandered over his face, pausing on his lips. I wanted to kiss him just for the sake of kissing him, and it was a dangerous notion to have. But I saw the same want reflected in his eyes when he looked at me. It was an intimate desire. A need to be close to me. Maybe I was imagining it, or maybe Lucian wasn’t as honest as he liked to believe. No matter what came out of his mouth, his body told me something else entirely.
He gave in without a fight this time, leaning in and finding my lips with his. I breathed him in, dragging my fingers through his hair as he groaned into my mouth. What I really wanted him to do was take me home and let me crawl into his lap and stay there for the rest of the day.
Being with Lucian was like soaring the unknown tracks of a roller coaster at high speed for the first time. My body jolting and my stomach lurching and the wind whipping my face as I screamed. I felt that way every time he looked at me now, and I wondered if for even a second, he did too.
“Gypsy,” he whispered against my lips, pulling away just far enough to meet my eyes. “I want you to know that I’m proud of you. What you did today was a good thing.”
I swallowed and offered him a smile, but inside, I felt like I wanted to cry.