The atmosphere in the café thickened. Sparks flew around us as Kaden Hades’ scruffy stubble rubbed against my cheek and he gave me a lingering kiss.

Everything inside me ignited when he kissed my hand. My skin tingled. It felt hot and tight.

“Call me,” he appealed one last time using a low, rough voice that melted every cell in my body.

And walked away leaving only the scent of tobacco, coffee, and sandalwood behind and my heart flipping around in my ribcage.

“I told you he wouldn’t be rebound guy,” Ella sang the words in an I told you so, tone.

She snatched the note that Kaden Hades left for me. “But still. He’s mine—forever. You promised.”

I was fifteen and stupid when we split the members of Killing Hades. She got Kaden and Jax, while I got the ugly keyboard player who left the band years ago. That’s the story of my life. Ella always chose the best ones, and I kept whatever she didn’t want. Like Justin Timberlake, Luke Perry, Mark-Paul Gosselaar, and James Van Der Beek. Van Der Beek didn’t bother me, I preferred Joshua Jackson anyway. After all, Pacey was the one who got the girl on Dawson’s Creek.

“He’s just another unreachable celebrity,” I reminded her. “But you can always dream.”

We could dream.

I had something Ella didn’t. A kiss. Hot, sinful, sexy Kaden Hades kissed me. He touched me. I ran my fingers over my elbow. My skin shivered as I remembered the electricity that ran through my entire body when his callused fingers touched me.

“Oh, my fucking God, I’m in love,” Ella screamed from the top of her lungs, hugging the note.

“Read this, Sadie. You have to read it.” She handed me the paper.

A brief kiss

A searing touch

It’s only one moment

But your scent is engraved in my mind

In my heart and soul

Give me more than just one moment

I need

A thousand more kisses

And a million moments with you

K

Sade, here’s my number (206) xxx-xxxx. Call me.

“Hate to say this, but you have to call him,” she insisted.

Call him? I read the poem several times, then I examined the paper. It was clearly ripped from a notebook and had a few musical notes and scribbles that I couldn’t understand. The words that he wrote were bold, artistic. Almost perfect. So much so that I was sure they meant nothing to him.

He was a musician who composed for many other artists. He could create a song as fast as I could fix a flower arrangement. The words were beautiful but hollow. They came from a man who knew how to seduce women and men of all ages with lyrics and melodies.

“He’s a player,” I concluded and folded the paper.

“Your loss.” She snatched it away from me.

“Well, you should try not dating anyone right now.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. After you fall off the horse, you have to get back on,” Ella told me with conviction. “The only thing I need is a few drinks, a hot man, and my life will be back to normal.”

Her attitude didn’t sit well in my stomach. There was a hint of jealousy lingering around me. What if she called him? She wouldn’t, would she? I had to trust her. Ella was my oldest friend, my person. The one who would go to the ends of the Earth for me. After my parents’ divorce, I crashed at Ella’s house during holidays, weekends, and summers. Nothing had ever come between us.

It bothered me that I couldn’t grant her big wish—a weekend with Kaden Hades. I wished he had let me give him the sob story about her latest breakup. Then again, her breakups were always messy.

“Should we come tomorrow night again?” Ella pushed my mug closer to where I stood.

“I don’t go out on Saturdays,” I reminded her as I finished my chai tea latte. Do you want to crash at my place?”

“Nope, as much as I adore spending time with you. Your home is boring. I need wine to lose myself for the next couple of days. You don’t have any alcohol at home. And you’ll be up at the crack of dawn.”

I pressed my lips together and nodded, biting my tongue because Ella’s condescending tone reminded me of my mother.

Sadly, this grown-up version of Ella struck a chord. One of the most painful of my life. My mother’s attitude. She was right. It’d be best that we didn’t spend the night together. Since I was nine, I’d taken care of my mother every single time a man hurt her. First, it was my father, then her line up of deadbeat boyfriends. I knew the pattern—and hated it.

Ella was in a state of emotional pain. Anything I said would be dismissed. Joe, her ex, was a lot like my father. A narcissistic, cheating bastard. I loved my Dad, but I didn’t like him. He was a terrible human being.

My mother didn’t accept who he was and how much he hurt her. She chose to numb her pain with alcohol, sleeping pills, and painkillers. None of those remedies made her feel better about herself. After Dad divorced her, she had a revolving door of boyfriends and husbands. Sadly, she also frequented rehab centers every year.

It wasn’t the first time I’d dealt with women like Ella and Mom. Before I owned a flower shop, I’d worked as a social worker in Child Protective Services. I dealt with many women who neglected their children due to their love of narcotics and alcohol.

I tried to help as many women as I could, but not all of them stayed clean or kept their children. They craved love, but they had no idea how to love themselves, let alone others.

While being a social worker, I focused more on the children. Innocent kids who lived in toxic environments where addiction reigned. My primary focus was finding them a foster home, making sure they were safe. Part of my job was to talk to the parents. Mostly the mothers who had lost themselves and their lives. I didn’t judge the women. All of them had been there for one reason or another. They deserved my understanding and support. But I hurt when they gave up on themselves.

My heart sank as I studied Ella. Her make-up was perfect, her smile fake. Nothing fulfilled her. She craved love, but she couldn’t deal with relationships. Ella didn’t know how to share. As the years passed, I worried more and more about her.

I’d hate to see Ella behaving the same way for the next thirty years.

“If you need me, you know where to find me,” I said.

“You’re judging.”

“No.” I fixed my beanie hat. “Just worried about you. You had a hard time getting over your last boyfriend, Raphael. You used a lot of pot and vodka to get you through. Now it’s Joe.”

“Well, I worry about you too.” She patted her purse. “One of the hottest men alive gave you his number, and you rejected him. Any woman would come in her panties after reading that poem. But you don’t, because you won’t let yourself live. There’s nothing wrong with drinking, partying, and fucking.”

“You’re right. There’s nothing wrong with either one—in moderation.” I exhaled, massaging my temples.

I loved Ella, but sometimes getting through to her was more laborious than taming a lion.

“I don’t have alcohol at home because my mother—who is an alcoholic and a drug addict—visits me unannounced. But I enjoy a cocktail or two when I go out. I drink wine with my dinner when it’s possible. For me, there’s no point in hooking up just because it feels right. I did it during college and a few years after that.”

“Did you?” She tilted her head; her condescending tone made my blood boil. “Because I recall you pining for Alex like a sick puppy. Remember him?”

Alex, I mumbled his name for the first time in years.

My college boyfriend. Well, we didn’t have a label. I chewed my lip as I recalled what I thought was the affair of the century. A romance that would last for years. My rose-colored glasses didn’t allow me to see him for who he was. An immature, good-looking college guy who slept around campus.

I tried so hard to be the one who would change him.

“Babe, you can’t dictate my life. Love is free,” he’d say each time I confronted him.

My world collapsed each time I found out about his new flavor of the month. But I always forgave him because if I were patient, I’d fix him. After a couple of years, I broke up with him, but that didn’t stop me from dating guys just like him.

“I remember Alex and every other guy I went out with after him. Which is exactly why I don’t date scumbags,” I gave her a sharp nod. “Unfortunately, I mix sex with feelings.”

“You’re not your mother,” she said, snapping her fingers. “Wake up! Live! Stop being afraid that you’ll end up like her. I won’t stop being me just because you think I’m wrong. One day, I’ll find the right guy.”

I bit my tongue. Because she might have been putting herself out there, but every time she ended a relationship it took her months and several bottles of vodka to repair her heart. Our discussion was heading toward a fight. Any other time I wouldn’t mind, but she needed me to be around.

“I think it’s best if I leave, we’re not getting anywhere.” I bent down and gave her a hug. “Take care of yourself, El.”

“That’s right. Run from the truth.”

Was there any truth in her words? No. She was hurting so badly that she was trying to take me down with her. I adored Ella. But when she burned, she decided to set everyone around her on fire, so they’d share her hell. This time, it wouldn’t be me.

“You’re wrong. I just choose not to date the wrong guy.” I clenched my fists.

Somedays, I hated her. If anyone knew how to get under my skin, it would be Ella DeVonaire.

“Nobody likes to be alone. But I won’t hook up with a well-known playboy just to forget that I don’t have anyone.” I tapped my foot while pointing a shaky finger toward the door. “He’s not going to soothe the need. I want a soulmate.”

“Ugh, that soulmate shit again.”

“What can I say? I believe that souls come in pairs,” I explained. “I’d give anything to find mine.”

Fall for a guy who’ll treat my heart with gloves and my body with rough love. Someone who won’t slash my insides when they walk away.

I stroked my neck, calming my voice. “Because they won’t walk away.”

I waved my hand toward the door. “I’m too old to be kissing toads, knowing they’ll never become princes.”

“Your loss.” She fished Kaden’s note out of her purse and kissed it.

“Give me that,” I ordered her. “It’s mine.”

She opened it, scanned it and handed it to me. “Sometimes you’re so fucking boring.”

“Call me when you’re in a better place,” I said, leaving the café.