“You know what they say. The best way to get over a man is to get under one.” Shirley’s brown eyes twinkle as she swings her hips in a wide circle, like she’s trying to keep an invisible hula hoop around her waist.

I laugh, even though nothing about this is funny. Scary, yep, it’s all kinds of that. But funny? Not unless you have a sick sense of humor.

“That’s not happening. Honestly, I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” I sigh, staring outside the bar window. Streaks of dust paint the glass with hopelessness, making it seem a lot darker in here than it is.

“I know. I was just making a joke.” She throws her arm around my shoulder, giving me a warm squeeze. “Besides, it’s not like you’ve got the cream of the crop around here to choose from.” She nods at John, the nearly passed out, dirty drunk slumped in his chair under the muted television. “Wolfe was probably the top of the pile, and that ain’t saying a whole hell of a lot.” She shakes her head.

I try to push away the cold tendrils of fear climbing up the walls of my stomach. Trying not to think about how I told Wolfe it was over. And definitely trying not to think about how he menacingly snarled at me, leveled me with his steely eyes, and simply said, “No.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t get to walk away from me.” He settled down onto his motorcycle nonchalantly.

“Wolfe, we both know this isn’t working…”

“I said no!” He roared so loud it made his bike sound like a purring kitten. “I’m gonna be back in a week. You better have your shit sorted out by then, Red. This is starting to piss me off. And you know how things go when I get pissed, sweetheart, so you better drop it.”

A shiver licked my spine. I stepped back from him, hanging my head in resignation. Of course I knew how things went for people who got on Wolfe’s bad side. You can’t date a man in a bike club for half a year and not see the horrifying, blood-spattered consequences of crossing him.

I squeeze my eyes shut, breathing in the faint smell of Ivory soap that clings to Shirley’s skin, and try to push the moment away. I can’t, though. I can’t escape this fear that is tattooed under my flesh. I can’t seem to make my heart stop pounding like a girl being chased through the woods by a serial killer. And just like that girl, my awful fate has already been sealed.

“I’ll tell ya what you need to do, Red. You’ve gotta get out of this loser town.” Shirley drops her hand from my shoulder and wipes the dingy bar down with a cloth.

“And do what? I’m not exactly drowning in possibilities.” The truth is I have no idea what I can do with my life. I’m only twenty-six, but waitressing and bartending are the only jobs I’ve known since high school.

“Don’t do that.” Shirley’s hand stills on the cloth and her eyes dart over to mine.

“Do what?”

“Don’t act like your life isn’t still spread out in front of you, Red. You’ve got time and youth and freedom all on your side, hon. Don’t do what I did, okay? Letting birthdays slip past and watching your options narrow with every year that goes by. Trust me, you don’t want to wake up one day and realize you’re still in the same town you’ve been in since you were a kid, serving the same drunks booze and the only thing that’s changed is you don’t recognize the wrinkles and gray hairs you see in the mirror each morning.”

Shirley’s crow’s feet soften as she looks out the window, not that there’s much of a view to stare at. Still, for a moment I can almost see a glimpse of what she must have looked like before this place wore her down. But I can tell by the faraway look in her eyes that she’s not soaking in the dusty, bleak road that winds outside the bar. She’s staring into a universe where she got up and left this town, before most of the businesses closed up shop and left us with bikers and thugs. Before the long hours of dealing with alcoholics had slumped her shoulders and before the ruthless passage of time had marked her skin with a roadmap of lines that only remind her of the mistakes each year have cost her.

Since I started working here, I’ve often thought of Shirley like an adopted mother. Not like the kind who adopts a child, but like I’m the child who adopted her. I never did know my own mom. Sure, my grandmother told me about her, but she was always pretty sparse on details, leaving my child imagination to fill in the gaps.

Sometimes I’d make up fantasies about why she had to abandon me. Maybe she was an undercover agent on the run from international terrorists. Or she might have been an astronaut who only had one opportunity to go out into space and left me with my grandmother to pursue her greatness. I definitely never imagined her as a teen mother with a crack addiction who chose working the streets to feed her habit over me.

But then, kids always assume the best of people, don’t they?

“Hey! Asshole! This isn’t a motel, bud. If you can’t handle your booze, it’s time to move out.” Shirley claps loudly as her shrill tone cuts across my thoughts. The guy slumped at his table lifts his head and looks from side to side slowly, his puffy eyes squinted into tiny slits. Then he thumps his face back down on the table, ignoring her.

She twists her lips down and nods at me. “See? This is not how you want to spend your life. You need to get out of this town before you know nothing else.” Setting her jaw, she lunges out from behind the bar and goes after the sweaty, sleeping man like a pit bull.

Just as she makes it over to John’s side, the bar door opens with a creak and I glance over at the shadowy man standing with the sunlight glinting in behind him. I can’t make out his features, but my pounding heart instantly spots that he’s the same size and height as Wolfe.

Fuck, he’s back early.

So much for new beginnings or figuring any of this out. Maybe I’m doomed to repeat Shirley’s mistakes. Just another woman dragged down by this hopeless place. Another casualty of a dead end job in a dirty bar.

He wobbles slightly. Great, he’s back early and he’s drunk. I can’t hide my disappointment. I can’t even pretend to be happy to see him. Knowing that he’s won. I won’t be able to ever leave him. I was delusional to think I could ever be anything but Wolfe’s.

He steps inside and my heart fills up like a helium balloon at the checkout aisle of Walmart. One of those Disney princess ones I’d always beg my grandmother to buy me when we went shopping. I expect to see Wolfe’s angry face, with his signature scar cutting down his cheek and over his chin.

Instead it’s a man, an incredibly sexy man, with the most intense blue eyes and boyish smile. My eyes flicker over him, eager to learn every inch of him. To memorize every feature. I bite my lip, and just for a moment all of my fears and twisted up anxieties float away as I get lost in this guy’s thick shoulders. The easy way he strolls into the bar keeps me hypnotized with every step.

I realize I’m holding my breath. I remind myself to suck in some oxygen. I exhale a long tremble of desire as my heartbeat flutters. Who is this man? Why is he here?

I shouldn’t be giving him a second look. I have other things to worry about besides a smoldering and sexy guy who just happened to get turned around in this ghost town. I shouldn’t care, but I do.

Before I have a chance to think about it, my smile betrays me. I tuck my hair behind my ear as he approaches the bar and just can’t help the telltale heat that’s kissing my cheeks.

“Hey.”