Page 41 of Moonlit Temptation

Maybe it was better that he left. Gave me time to start the detox early, to cleanse him out of my system.

Except, I didn’t want to.

I was standing in a dressing room now, looking at myself in the mirror with the reminders of our night on my body. Nothing like having the same skin as a Georgia peach.

But for once I didn’t mind, instead I remained transfixed as I studied my reflection.

They started at my neck—thankfully, Saint was a little considerate and left marks where my just-past-my-shoulder-length hair could hide it—and traveled down my chest, peeking out from the cups of my bra, down to my thighs.

I traced them with a gentle touch, enjoying the sting that quickly followed.

I was still stunned we did that. Even with all the reminders, it still felt like a dream.

A dream I wanted to get back to, but wasn’t sure I’d ever find again.

He marked me.

The man that taught me how to skateboard marked me.

I followed the trail.

So many things in my life were irrevocably tied to Saint.

My tastes in music—alternative punk music that played for hours through the wall I shared with my brother.

My style and love of mixing soft pieces with hard.

My love of action movies, the bloodier the better. Archer and Saint never let me pick movies to watch on the Friday nights they were stuck at home because Dad grounded Archer. No rom-coms, no musicals. No princess movies. Ever.

Saint shaped me as much as my siblings growing up.

But the biggest, aside from last night, were the months he spent teaching me how to skateboard.

A passion I discovered through spite.

As the shadow of my brother and his best friend, I followed them everywhere, including to the Bowl, our local skate park. I had no desire to skate, was just desperate to not be in the house alone, so I’d beg for them to bring me along.

Out of boredom one day, I hopped on Saint’s board when he came to check on where I sat in the shade, reading The Lightning Thief for the hundredth time. He got off his board and crouched in front of me with a mischievous smile.

He was always stirring up trouble when he was younger, and the sight of his smile sent my dreamer heart into a frenzy.

“Is today the day?”

Peering at him from the top of my book, I asked, “Is today what day?”

“The day I get you on a skateboard.”

I hid my smile in the book. He had been determined to get me on one ever since I told him that was never going to happen.

He took it as a dare, and if there was one thing about Saint, it was that he never backed down from a challenge.

Every time I came here with him, he’d ask. Every time he’d come over to our house, he’d ask. He asked and asked and asked until finally I broke down and told him, “Sure is.”

The words were barely out of my mouth before the book was taken from my hands and he plucked a piece of grass from the ground to use as a bookmark before closing it.

Then he was pulling me up so fast my feet left the ground, and I grinned at going airborne for a few seconds.

Once I was standing and got on the board, I braced with my hands on my hips. “Happy?”

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