Locking up the shop, I was in a daze. I’d thought I could do this with him, but Ivan was too much.

Too much of a reminder.

Too much of a danger.

Too much of a temptation.

All those old feelings I’d buried a long time ago bubbled to the surface. Every second his hands were on mine, I’d flashed back to the days and nights we’d had before everything fell apart.

He’d come into my diner and sat at my booth every day for a month. Every time he’d ask for my number, and every time I’d turn him down, until one day I didn’t. The fight I had with my dad that morning had been ugly. He’d wanted me to go to college. I wanted to take a year off to figure things out. I’d been fuming all the way through my shift. When Ivan slid into my booth, it was the first bit of happiness I’d had all day, and I’d grabbed on to it with both hands.

Before I knew it, we’d talked all day. The city was always a place where I dreamed of living, working and partying. But the reins my dad had on me were tight and pretty much no one would dare go against him in our town, which meant friends were in short supply. Rides out of town were even shorter.

I’d snuck home during a break to get some clothes, stashed them in my bag, and after work he’d taken me out.

His body pressed against mine on the dance floor of the club. The music thumped so loudly I could barely hear myself think, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t feel. His hands snaked their way from my waist to my ass, and I peered up at him. The lazy smile on his face was just the right side of cocky. I wanted him, and he knew I wanted him. The sweat rolled off the two of us as we stared into each other’s eyes, and everyone else on the floor ceased to exist.

Nothing else existed except for his hands and his eyes. His hand came up to the side of my face and tucked some stray hairs behind my ear before tugging me to him, his body pressed hard against mine. I reached up and laced my fingers behind his neck as my lips parted.

Without an invitation, he attacked my mouth with his tongue, stealing my breath away. He led me up off the dance floor and pressed my back against the nearest wall, caging me between his arms and shielding me from the rest of the club. My hands slid under his shirt, running over his hot, sweaty body. He broke the kiss and stared at me. Hungry and wild, I squeezed my thighs together as my pussy throbbed. No one had ever looked at me like that. Like they wanted to fuck me to within an inch of my life. I wanted that. I wanted to see if it was all in my head, or if he’d be able to give me everything his eyes and hands promised.

A key card appeared out of nowhere, followed by a short cab ride with his hands wedged between my thighs, keeping me on edge the whole way. Then we were up in his room, falling into bed together, and I’d never been sorer or more satisfied when we finished. I rolled out of the bed and grabbed my jeans off the floor, but he caught my hand.

“Where are you going?” he asked, trying to tug me back into bed with him.

“I’ve got to get home. My dad will kill me for being out this late.”

He shot up in bed, keeping his grip on my elbow.

“I never asked. How old are you?”

“Relax, I’m eighteen.” His shoulders visibly relaxed, and I laughed. “I had fun tonight,” I said, buttoning my jeans.

“Stay,” he said, dragging me back into the bed, pressing hot, wet kisses along my shoulders and neck.

“As much as I’d love to, I do not feel like getting bitched out yet again. It was fun.” I pressed a firm kiss to his lips. Even all sweaty, he smelled so good. I grabbed my phone out of my bag and sent a message to my dad. I figured this was over. This was what it was, right? He got into my pants, and now we would part ways. Apparently he had other ideas.

Before I could shove it back in my bag, he plucked it out of my hands, tapping on the screen.

He handed it back to me with a call started. His phone vibrated on the nightstand.

“Now you’ve got my number.” He leaned back in the bed with a self-satisfied grin.

“And what if I didn’t want it in the first place?”

“Then I’ve got yours, and I plan on making sure you want to use that number as much as possible.”

And he had. It was a whirlwind summer that ended up with me behind bars, the last of my family gone, and starting over with almost nothing and an unsealed record.

Ivan Volokov was a dangerous destroyer of lives, and I couldn’t let him back into mine. But helping him leave his criminal past was part of everything I’d built my life on. Helping people set their lives straight. Helping people start over, like Jacob had done for me when he let me work in the shop. Without him I’d have been homeless and destitute. My dad helped him get out of a bad situation when he was younger, so he’d felt he owed my dad. Thanks to Jacob, I’d had a roof over my head, and I wasn’t on the streets. It seemed fitting that I help Ivan. Full circle to completely close that chapter of my life once and for all.

I was so unsettled that I’d ended our session after less than an hour. Blaming it on my back, I just needed to get out, get into bed and sleep. Maybe then in the light of day I’d be able to make a good decision.

I crept into the apartment carefully to keep quiet. Rachel woke up with a pin drop. She was always awake so early that she was usually passed out by ten, eleven at the latest. I slid my shoes off and crept past her room.

“Hey!” came a loud call. At least it sounded loud in the middle of the night when I was used to silence when I got home.

Without thinking, I winged my keys straight out into the dark. My heart thundered in my chest. She was never up this late.

“What the hell, Dahlia?” Rachel said, glaring at me and rubbing her forehead.

“You scared the shit out of me, Rachel,” I said, clutching my hand to my chest.

“I mean, I only live here,” she said, bending down to retrieve the shop keys.

“Sorry. Why are you up so late?”

“I had a work thing,” she grumbled. I stopped myself from rolling my eyes. Of course.

“When don’t you have a work thing?” I asked.

“It was a special project I’m working on. It went in a direction I didn’t think it would,” she said, and I didn’t miss the scarlet flush across her face. She plopped down on her bed. What exactly was she up to?

“Tell me about it,” I said, pushing off the door and sitting on the bed beside her. The need to say something burst free from my mouth before I could stop it. “Have you ever gotten involved with someone you know is just going to seriously fuck with your head? Like maybe completely destroy you, but you can’t help it?” I asked, lying down on her bed. I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose between my fingers. Ivan was a distraction. A distraction that threatened to consume me whole. I knew it would be a wild and delicious ride, but I couldn’t deal with his stuff and mine.

“What’s going on?” she asked, lying next to me.

“It’s nothing. I’m being stupid. I don’t have time for complications. I don’t have time for attachments. Gotta keep it light, right?” I got up off the bed. Rachel grabbed my arm.

“Dahlia, you know you can talk to me. I’m here for you. I can go out and get a carton of ice cream and we can watch a movie or something. I don’t really feel like trying to go to sleep right now either.”

“Sounds good, but instead of ice cream, we can order some Chinese food. Plus, we still have that macaron tower your mom sent over,” I said, hustling out of the room. I wasn’t hungry in the slightest, but if she was up, she’d keep asking questions until she got the info from me. She was a kind and sweet interrogator who caught you off guard, and then you started spilling all the secrets. “I call dibs on the raspberry ganache ones.”

We ordered some beef and broccoli, egg fried rice and lots of General Tso’s chicken. I grabbed the bags from the delivery guy and had an egg roll in my mouth before I even put them down. We gorged on the delicious macaron tower until I thought I would burst. My phone buzzed beside me on the couch. I jumped up under the pretense of filling my bowl with even more food, leaving Rachel on the couch, and sneaked down the hallway and accepted the call without saying a word.

“Did you make it home safely?”

“No, I was murdered on the way, and this is my ghost communicating with you.”

“Funny. You always had such a terrible sense of humor.”

“You just never got my jokes. Thanks for checking up on me. I made it home safely. I’m grabbing some food and then heading to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I want to see you outside of our sessions.”

“No.” The word leaped from my throat without hesitation.

“We have a lot to talk about.”

“Does it have to do with your tattoo?”

“You know it doesn’t.”

“Then we’re not talking about it.” Talking about the past was a surefire way to destroy the little bit of peace we had when we sat side by side for hours on end. Breaking that peace would spell disaster for the two of us.

“Ivan, we’re not doing this. Either you come into my shop and I do your tattoos, and we keep it just that, or you can find someone else to do it. I said everything I had to say about you back in that gravel parking lot. If you want out, I can help you with that, but I’m not going to let you suck me back into your world. I can’t.”

There was silence on the other side of the line. It was quiet for so long I checked to make sure the phone was still connected.

“I’ll bring food tomorrow.”

The tightness in my chest I hadn’t even realized was there, loosened the slightest amount. “You don’t need to do that.”

“I’ll bring pelmeni.” He dangled that tasty Russian dumpling in front of my face, and even though I’d stuffed myself full of Chinese food, the deliciousness of pelmeni had me practically salivating. Once I’d brought myself to be able to eat them after him, I’d never found a place that made them like the ones he’d treated me to.

He was bringing out the big guns.

“Not cool. You don’t play fair.”

“I never said I would.” His deep voice sent shivers down my spine. “I’ll bring two dozen.”

“Don’t be silly; be sure to bring some for yourself as well.”

His chuckle made goose bumps rise on my arms. Even over the phone, he had an effect on me I couldn’t deny.

“Maybe I will.” It felt like we were two different people. Like this was the simple flirtation of two people who’d just met. Not two people with a past so screwed up that most people would have run screaming from the room. And a rap sheet to show for it.

“Good night, Ivan. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good night, Dahl.”

I ended the call and slid back into the room on the couch beside Rachel. She put on another movie, and I tried to keep my eyes open.

Ivan: There are so many other things I can do for you if you’ll let me, Dahlia.

Me: I don’t need anything from you. I’m doing your tattoo and that’s it.

Ivan: Maybe I’ll have to stop asking and just tell you what I can do for you.

I vowed not to look at my phone after that. My phone vibrated so much that I tucked it under my leg before Rachel figured something was up. A few messages from him rolled in throughout the night. I willed myself not to read them, but I sneaked a peek anyway.

Ivan: The first time I saw you in that yellow and white uniform, you reminded me of the sunrise.

Ivan: Our first dance was to “The Killers Human.” I can’t hear that song without thinking about how beautiful you looked that night.

Ivan: When you climbed out the window of your house and I caught you, I never wanted to let you go.

Ivan: I’ve never seen a woman able to eat so many pelmeni. I think you set a world record last time.

I finally dragged myself into bed as the sun crested over the horizon. Ivan’s messages made me laugh and more. It had been a long time since I’d let a guy get close to me. I tried to keep things casual. Not get too attached. Attachments were the surest way to heartbreak.

Ivan: I’ve never wanted to be with another woman as I much as I want to be with you.

But his texts were like being transported into the past. Reminders of our time together, however short it might have been. Its mark was branded on my soul no matter how much I liked to pretend it wasn’t.