Scarlett
Holy. Shit.
I’m flirting with the most dangerously attractive man I’ve ever seen in my life.
I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling. The grin on my face is so wide that it hurts my cheeks. And the butterflies in my stomach have upgraded to flop-eared rabbits running roughshod at a trampoline park.
They’re just texts, and not even sexy ones at that, but they feel like more. They feel ... bigger, somehow. Like we’re actually finding common ground, me and this man who I can’t stop dreaming about, or—if I’m being totally honest—fantasizing about.
Men like him aren’t interested in women like me. He lives hard and fast, and I’m more comfortable at sedate afternoon tea parties.
Except, what if I could be whatever I wanted? What if I could have whatever I wanted?
It’s not something I’ve ever considered before. Despite being raised in luxury and having ample resources available, I’ve lived most of my life in a box. A luxury box, but a box all the same. Opening Curated pushed the edges a little, but not much. It still fell into the category of “acceptable professions and activities” for Scarlett Priest.
Just like Chadwick fell into the category of “acceptable boyfriend material” for Scarlett Priest.
Screw the boxes and categories. I’m totally over it. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I’m following my gut, and wherever she takes me, I’m sure it will be unforgettable.
Bad Scarlett is behind the wheel now.
* * *
I carry my newfound resolve with me all the way through Monday to self-defense class.
“Better. Now practice striking with the pen. It may not look like much, but you can kill someone with something as basic as an ink pen.” Bodhi, my instructor who still intimidates the hell out of me, went over everything I learned last Friday and then moved on to new material.
I swing my arm down toward the big pad on the floor, pen firmly gripped in my hand as I practice stabbing someone in the eyeball. It’s kind of gross, but when I remember how helpless I felt wrapped up in that rug, I realize that if it ever happened again, it’s unlikely the outcome would be as positive.
Especially since the troll is relentless right now too, but this time under a new account. I had to block him or her this morning after they commented on the photo of Kelsey, Harlow, Monroe, and me, taken before we hit the club. The comment read,“Whores need to be taught a lesson.”
I screenshotted everything, then deleted and blocked the profile, but I still haven’t forgotten about it. In fact, I was considering trying to reschedule self-defense until I saw it. Now, regardless of whether or not I like this instructor’s clipped, to-the-point method of teaching, I’m committed. No one will get the best of me simply because I’m not prepared.
“That’s all for today,” Bodhi says twenty minutes later when he drops the pad I was kicking at. He’s a freak of nature. A giant who moves so fast that he seems to defy physics.
“Thank you, Mr. Black. I appreciate your time.”
“Bodhi or Black. I told you, no mister.”
I give him an awkward smile at being corrected and escape to the locker where my bag is stowed. As soon as I unlock it, I grab my phone, and no, I’m not ashamed to admit it.
Texting with Gabriel Legend is the most exciting part of my day. I thought maybe I wouldn’t hear from him again for a couple of days, or even until Saturday, but I was wrong.
This morning, while I was writing in my gratitude journal, my phone buzzed with a text. I forced myself to finish writing, regardless of how quivery my belly was at the possibility of what it might say. It was short and simple.
Legend: Have a great day.
I felt those words down to the marrow of my bones becausehe was thinking about me.
My reply was just as simple, but I hoped it conveyed everything I was feeling.
Scarlett: Thank you. I hope yours is fantastic too.
I was proud of myself for not checking my phone during my meeting with Amy or while I was working, but my restraint for today has run its course. I’m done trying to pretend I don’t care if he’s texted me. I flip my phone over as fast as I can to check the screen for a new message.
And there is one.
It just isn’t from Legend.