Page 56 of Fated Shot

“That’s weird,” I reply. The less words, the better. I'm terrible at this.

“Yeah, look,” he says, pulling out his phone, a puzzled look on his face. “Oh, I guess it’s fixed.” He shows me the flashing arrow icon within the Maplewood building. Why the fuck did I have to download such an effective app?

“Guess so,” I mutter, desperately hoping he drops it. I don’t like this one bit. Thankfully, he wanders over to my pantry for round two of food thieving.

“You staying here or going?” I call to him from outside the door. Praying the answer is him getting the fuck out of here before I crack.

There’s crinkling, and he emerges holding two granola bars, my ketchup chips, a Gatorade and a box of wheat thins.

“Leaving,” he says with a wide smile as he passes right by me and exits my apartment without another word.

Fucking, Penn.

***

Mia

Waking up in bed alone is a welcome reprieve. My brain still can’t process the tornado that is Jack Brody.

I’m much more likely to function or even think logically when I’m free from his vortex. He has all the power to sweep me in, and I’m starting to think I’d go willingly.

I don’t know what comes over me when I’m with him. It’s like I’m constantly craving more; if he so much as touches me, I lose my freaking mind. One thing I do know, though, is that I’m in over my head. I need time to process and get a freaking grip before it’s too late.

That’s the thing about tornadoes—they’re powerful, inevitable, and downright dangerous. They may suck you in, but that also means eventually, they’ll spit you back out.

The first notification of the day comes in at 6:15 am. Camille Sheppard, two boxes of a dozen assorted cookies. Smiling, I go into Shopify and issue a twenty-five percent refund on the order. Refund Reason: Friends and Family Discount.

Less than two minutes later, there’s a ping from my phone.

Cami Sheppard:No freebies!!

I laugh because even though I've known her for such a short time, I can practically hear her upbeat, energetic, and playful tone through the text.

Me:What are you doing awake this early??

All I get in response is a picture of a wide-awake, smiling Kaia. Gahh, she’s too cute.

Cami Sheppard:Little Miss decided the nightlife is for her, she refuses to sleep until the sun rises.

Me:Bummer! Does that mean you’re not going to be at tonight’s game?

Cami Sheppard:Probs not. Are you going??

Me:I think so! Let me know if you change your mind :))

Cami Sheppard:Will do!! Keep an eye out for number 23 ;)

Googling23 Toronto Tundra, a picture of Penn Brooks appears. He’s cute for sure, like a well-mannered boy bander, but I’m more partial to the rugged vibe. I laugh to myself, adding a HAHA to the message before pulling up Google again. Not able to resist, I type inJack Brody Toronto Tundra.

The picture that appears is one of a much younger Jack. Longer hair and a less defined face, probably from when he was a rookie. Scrolling down further, I scan the top articles. ‘Top 10 Brody Fights’, ‘Jack Brody signed to the Toronto Tundra: 3 years, 3.5 mil’, ‘Why the Tundra needed an enforcer like Brody’.

This feels an awful lot like stalking. With a sigh, I force myself to close it out. Instead, I check my notebook for my daily tasks.

Bulk Restock

Customer Emails

Cookie & Co Label Reorder

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