[Currently being rewritten and updated chapter by chapter]
Book One in the "Hard Love" series.
It's hard being knocked down. And it's even harder getting back up.
Thalia Carter grew up on the south side of Chicago with a dead-beat dad and never real...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I'm afraid I've made a terrible, terrible mistake. I have to say terrible twice in order to relay the gravity of the situation. In fact, I should probably say it thrice.
Right now I should not be cuddling naked with Isaac. I should not be tracing his tattoos, letting him intertwine his hands with mine, talking about life and friends and our silly childhood fears.
I probably shouldn't have had sex with him, either.
And yet... I can't bring myself to leave. Not yet. I'm letting myself indulge in him a little while longer, while it's just us wrapped in the sheets of this delicate bubble.
After everything I've been through, I think it's okay to steal a couple moments for myself.
I trace the intricate drawing of a snake winding around Isaac's forearm, resting my head on his chest. "Why would you get one of your worst fears branded on your skin?"
Isaac shrugs, lifting his arm to examine it. "Thought of it as exposure therapy. Even the sight of them used to terrify me. Now I can actually make it through the reptile exhibit at the zoo. So I guess it worked."
I giggle at the thought of him covering his eyes and rushing past the glass cases, or even better, refusing to go in. It's hard to imagine him being afraid of anything.
"What are you afraid of?" Isaac asks.
A face flashes in my mind, killing the butterflies taking root in my stomach. My fear is not one I can conquer, not one I can prepare for.
"Um, spiders," I stammer. "Spiders really freak me out."
Not technically a lie. I've never been a fan of bugs.
Isaac's chest rumbles beneath me, his abs clenching inches away from my face as he laughs. "Thalia Carter is afraid of bugs. Good to know."
I lift my head, mouth dropping open. "If you do anything with that information, you are dead. Dead."
Isaac smirks, marking an X over his heart. "I wouldn't dare."
"Promise me." In an effort to hold him accountable, I extend my pinkie to him. With a playful roll of his eyes, he links my finger with his own.
"I promise. Now, tell me something."
"Like what?" I resist the urge to giggle as he pulls me back down in his embrace, wrapping a protective arm around me. His fingers brush the side of my breast over the blanket, making me feel hot all over.
"Anything. I want to know everything about you. The good and the bad."
Easy to say when you don't know that "the bad" is the stuff nightmares are made of.
I sit up abruptly, feeling the bubble pop. Reality is setting back in. I'm remembering who I am, all the damage that I come with. Isaac doesn't deserve any of that. In fact, if and when he does find out, he'll probably never want to touch me and my drama again.
