My heart contracts as I pull myself out of my memory lapse. After that weekend, the only other time I saw Frost was last week, and he didn’t look at me once. Not once. Until, of course, he told me he was going nomad…

“You’re what!” I yelled, chasing after him while clutching my glass in my hand. “What the fuck does that mean, Frost?” We passed the open sliding doors and a red colored mess inside caught the corner of my eye, causing me to backtrack my steps. I poked my head inside and quirked an eyebrow. “Well, someone has been having fun without me. Jesus fucking Christ!” There, laying completely sliced, diced, and decapitated was Soulless. He was once one of The 6 masked men who worked under my brother. He was obviously a rat, and by the looks of the artwork carved into what was left of the flesh hanging off of his face—and the tubes of guts and feces that were smothered at his feet with his mid-section completely pulled open—I’m thinking he really pissed Raze off. Though the stomach being so open and precise…has me thinking that is the work of Miles. Which means, Soulless obviously did something to hurt Millie, what with his obsession with her. Shit, I had forgotten about Frost in the midst of my fascination.

“Yeah, I’m not finished with you yet!” I called out while continuing to follow his steps, until he stopped. I slammed on my internal breaks watching as his back remained turned to me.

“Frost… I… I don’t know what’s going on, but you don’t need to go nomad. I’m sure whatever the fuck that means, we can work it out and everything will be fine, and, and—”

“—Ella…”

“Yeah?” I cleared my throat when I realized I didn’t sound as convincing.

“Shut up.”

He turned slowly until his beautiful face was in full glory. His eyes cut straight to mine, penetrating them like they had done so many times before this while I was at the clubhouse. It’s no secret Frost and I had history. If you didn’t know about it, you’d sure as fuck see it if you ever saw us together.

“Come here.”

“What?” I asked, confused by his command.

He nodded down to his feet. “Come. Here.”

Like a stupid fucking puppy dog, my feet moved on command. I walked up to him until my chest brushed with his fearlessly and effortlessly. My nipples clenched with the contact and I cranked my head to look up at him. I explored his eyes for a hint of...something.

“Give me something here. Why are you doing this?”

His hand came to my face, and he ran the edge of his knuckles down my cheeks, clenching his jaw. “I’m sorry, baby. Come make me forget about it for a few.”

“Then you’ll stay?” I pinned after him, my hand instinctively reaching for his and my fingers wrapping around his own. “Frost?”

He didn’t answer me, so I squeezed.

His eyes snapped to mine. “Yeah, baby. I’ll stay. Now come here.”

He didn’t stay. He lied. We fucked, or rather, he rode my body into the sweetest ecstasy I had ever experienced. I couldn’t walk or see straight for days after that night, but he left. We haven’t seen him since, and the more I think about it, the more I want to hit something. I thought that we had something, even if that does sound delusional, but he made me feel things I had never felt. We had a bond—so I thought. I thought I had meant even just a tiny bit to him, but no. I woke to an empty bed the next morning. I walked out to the deck that sat on the edge of my bedroom and screamed. I screamed so loud that I’m sure the birds flew out from the trees and the cleanup crew who were still down in the basement heard. He left with Ikea to do some bullshit operation for Raze.

Good thing I got into NYU because now I don’t have to think about it ever again. Screw Frost or Lyle fucking whatever his name was. I’m young, fresh, and now that I’m no longer a virgin, I’m ready to see what the world has to offer. Or, New York.