Thirteen people were involved in the accident, eight survived … for now, and two of the eight survivors are children. Their parents were both casualties. A younger version of Trick flashes in my head. One day your parents are here, the next day they’re gone. Yet, I still can’t piece that part of his past together. It doesn’t make any sense.

It’s nearly eleven at night by the time I get home and my next shift is in the morning. Trick hasn’t tried calling or texting. I have to hope for the small silver lining to this emotional day—he erased the recordings without watching them first. Trick may be introverted, but I bring out his cocky side and I know he wouldn’t wait one second to call me about my ‘performance’ so I don’t think he’s watched it.

The faster we can forget about all my performances, including my meltdown this afternoon, the better. I take the lead by sending off a quick text as if nothing happened.

Me: Just got home. Sooo tired. Dinner tomorrow? Love you <3

I don’t wait for a response. Instead, I jump in the shower then dry my hair and collapse into bed. The instant I shut off my light, my phone chimes.

Trick: Yes to dinner. Sleep well. Love you.

I sigh, closing my eyes. Trick has earned my trust big time. If it weren’t for the fact that I don’t want to ever mention it again, I would send him a candy land of Emojis thanking him for respecting my wishes. Trick’s the best … the very, very best!

Just a few short months ago I met my best friend; then my dreams came true. I was a caterpillar until the metamorphosis of his love set me free, and now I fly high … so high on every thought of him.

Point A to point B … It’s all bliss racing across town from a job I love to the man I love. Does one person deserve to be this happy? I park in the garage, my garage spot, and take the elevator upstairs. It’s dark and silent, so I assume Trick is still working. Maybe I should get naked on the bed and wait for him. Then again, he’ll be hungry and so am I. Maybe sex can wait.

Drumming my nails on the kitchen counter I contemplate making dinner for us. I’m sure Trick thinks my only useful skills are sex and sutures. Inspecting the cabinets and refrigerator, I realize my options are minute. A trip to the grocery store is in order, so I decide to pop down and let Trick know my plans.

As I walk by the window, I see him in his zone. The sexy intensity on his face when he works does all sorts of crazy stuff to my body. Opening the door, the curly-haired brunette shifts her gaze to me, but mine goes to her hand, fingers slipped inside Trick’s front pocket. He, as usual, doesn’t acknowledge me. I glare at her while assessing the situation. For a split second I give her the benefit; maybe she’s unstable on the stool and using him for balance. But when her knee begins to rub along the inside of his leg the balance excuse vanishes.

“I’m sure he’d appreciate you keeping your hands and legs to yourself.” I lean against the checkout counter.

Trick doesn’t turn in my direction, or even flinch to acknowledge that I’ve just spoken. The brunette smirks. The fucking bitch actually smirks! And because she’s just that stupid, she sits up straighter, arching her back and shoving her silicon balloons within an inch of Trick’s chest. I don’t need an Urban Dictionary from Jade to know that this bitch is gonna die!

I push off the counter and march up next to Trick. “I’m going to get a few groceries,” I say through gritted teeth while wrapping my hand around stupid’s wrist and removing it from Trick’s pocket.

“You did not just touch me?” She raises her brows like I’ve committed a crime.

Trick finally looks over at me then down at my hand clenched around her wrist. “Darby,” he warns.

I release her wrist. “Yes,” I smile, batting my lashes at him.

“I don’t know who she thinks she is, but if she touches me again—”

Trick holds up his finger to her while looking at me. “Darby was just leaving.”

My eyes go wide while cocking my head to the side. “I was?”

“Groceries … go.”

Trick may not want to make waves, but if he doesn’t put an end to this I’m going to be the goddamn tsunami that does.

The brunette smirks and … No way! How many shades of stupid is this broad? Her hand goes back to his pocket.

“If you want all your fingers to work when you walk out of here, I suggest you keep your hands. To. Yourself!” I grab her hand with a little more force.

“Hands off, bitch!” she yells, yanking her wrist from my grasp.

“Darby!” Trick growls.

“You get your hands off, bitch!” I try to wedge myself between her and Trick, getting up in her face.

Trick wraps his arms around me from behind, lifting me off my feet.

“Let me go!” I yell.

“Quiet!” he grinds in my ears while hauling me off toward the back. Opening the infamous storage closet door, he drops me and slams the door behind us.

I whip around, hands fisted, jaw clenched. “She’s groping you!”

“You’re making a scene.” He leans forward toward my face.

I stand by my original claim. “She’s. Groping. You!”

“She’s a fly on my ass. When I’m working I don’t notice so it doesn’t matter.”

I shove his chest, forcing him to step back until his back hits the door. “It matters to me!”

He shakes his head. “I’ve got to get back out there. We’ll discuss this later.”

“Don’t you dare walk away from me!” I warn as he turns to open the door.

“Or what?”

I draw in a shaky breath. “Or you’ll break my fucking heart. Because somewhere over the past few months I got the impression that you love me.”

His shoulders slump, back still to me.

“And when Grady invited all those people over you said these hands, only these hands. Was that a lie?”

His hand moves back, clasping mine. I close my eyes. As frustrating as Trick can be, it will never go unnoticed by me just how much he gives of himself to me. Sometimes it’s more than I think he really has to give. But even for him, I will not be a doormat.

He opens the door and leads me out to an obviously perturbed brunette. Pulling up another stool off to his right, he keeps hold of my hand while I climb up on it. Brunette tries to burn a hole in my skull with her evil eyes as Trick brings his mouth to my ear.

“I do love you.”

He releases my hand and gives his focus back to her. My heart stands idle in my chest as her hand reaches for his pocket.

“Hands off,” Trick says while rouging her cheeks.

He resuscitates my heart. Her whole body goes rigid as all the color drains from her shocked face. I don’t give her another glance. There’s only one person in this room worthy of my attention—Trick … only Trick.

He finishes up, takes her money, and locks the door after she leaves. When he turns, my lips turn up into a sheepish smile. He walks back to me with that damn unreadable look. Hands go straight to my hair as he leans down and rubs his nose against mine. I slip my hands under his shirt, and he steps closer as I slide them up his back, digging my fingers into him. A silent claim that he is in fact mine.

“Darby?”

Here comes the lecture.

I close my eyes as his lips ghost over mine. “Hmm?”

“Marry me.”