Page 10 of Moonlit Temptation

“Madelayne,” he called, leaning over the table to tap my temple. The contact left sparks crackling in his wake. “Where’d you disappear to?”

“Just thinking about how we both have daddy issues, but you’ve channeled yours in a more positive way.”

“Your dad still not talking to you?” It should concern me how much Saint knew about my life without me having to tell him, but I had long become accustomed to him and my brother gossiping like little hens.

“Nope.” I popped the ‘P’ for dramatic flare. “Hasn’t for almost two months, not since graduation. The most he’s done to acknowledge my existence is the passive-aggressive glares he throws my way when we cross paths in the kitchen or the weighted silence of Sunday dinners.”

“He’ll get over it,” Saint reassured me, but I shook my head, knowing it was a filler sentence with no substance.

“The only way that will happen is if I go to college, which is the last thing I want to do.”

People always told me you go to college to find yourself, but that was a lie. The first thing they had you do upon freshman orientation was declare a major. How was that finding yourself when you were thrust into a box from day one?

I spent the last nineteen years being shoved into a box. A dark and cold box where I felt aimless and lonely.

There was no desire left in me to go back.

In London, I could breathe, free from the stifling conditions my father put me and my siblings under.

Perfection was what the Novaks strived for and perfection was not a word used to describe me.

“What do you want to do?” he asked, but not in the way I had heard countless times since people found out about my decision. There was no judgment or condemnation, just open curiosity.

“I don’t know.” My voice was small.

My father was the mayor of our little town, Honeycutt, Georgia. A small rich and entitled suburb outside Atlanta.

My brother owned Delvak Tech with Saint, a business owner at twenty-seven, while my sister Jessa, who was three years older than me, was about to enter her first year of law school in the fall.

I was the black sheep of my family.

The girl who loved the stars, and trees, and her skateboard.

My dreams didn’t stretch to the white-collar workforce.

In all honesty, I had no idea what I wanted to do. Had no plan.

I was fucking lost and scared and ran away to London to escape it. A whole week not to think about it.

Saint frowned, leaning across the table to be closer to me. “What about skateboarding?”

“That’s not a career,” I echoed the words I heard a million times over.

“Says who? That’s how I made money after my dad.”

“You were better than me.”

“Bullshit.” He narrowed his eyes. “You’re amazing, Madelayne.”

A soft smile touched my face.

Saint wasn’t one to throw out compliments without meaning them.

“Tell me, if you could do anything right now, what would you do?”

“Dye my hair pink,” I said almost wistfully.

For a couple of years now, I wanted to do it but was too afraid of my father sneaking into my room at night and shaving it off.

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