Page 146 of Chasing Sparks

But my mind won’t rest, no matter how hard my body begs to shut down. It circles back to memories of Ori and me, taunting me with happiness I was never meant to have.

Braden, Zane, and Lucille have steered clear of me, which is smart. I’m a powder keg with a short fuse. Just ask the UPS guy. Poor bastard left a package on the floor, and I went off like I was auditioning for a reality show about angry neighbors. He nodded, backed toward the door, and probably filed a mental note to avoid this address.

Truth is, I’m a mess, but I won’t stop long enough to let that fact sink in. To let it break me.

Trace says it’s only a week or so before he nails Kevin’s ass to the wall. I should feel relief. Instead, it’s like standing in front of a ticking bomb, waiting for the explosion.

And while I want Kevin gone for good, I’m in no rush to get there. There’s nothing left to look forward to anymore.

I’ve had women over the years ask why some men are so opposed to love.

This. This is why, ladies.

Because getting your heart ripped out and stomped on by the one person you thought might save you will destroy your faith in fairytales.

One thing’s for damn sure—I’m never falling again. My heart is now rigged to detonate if anyone dares come near it.

I haven’t seen the petite heartbreaker since that morning at her apartment, but when she finally decides to face me like an adult, there won’t be any friendly camaraderie. Not anymore.

We’ll go back to ignoring each other’s existence.

Guess we had it right the first time.

For now, my focus is on the speakeasy and getting her ready for the final inspection before opening night. One guarantee: I won’t have just one gorgeous woman on my arm that night. I’ll have my own personal harem.

Not that they’ll come close to the magic of Ori.

Shaking off thoughts of her, I grab the putty knife and set to work. That’s the thing about menial tasks: the rhythm is soothing, and I need that now more than ever.

That and blasting metal music.

Take that,One More Page. Hope you enjoy my song selection.

When a hand touches my shoulder, I jump, the putty knife skittering across the floor with a metallic clang.

Spinning around, I see who the hand belongs to, and my anger flares back a hundredfold.

“What the fuck do you want?” I bark at Eddie.

“Can you turn the music down?” He motions to his ears.

No, because that would drown out your screams while I pummel you into the ground.

With a scoff, I kill the music, crossing my arms against my chest. “Better?”

“Yeah. I’ve been calling your name, but you didn’t hear me. No surprise, right?”

“What do you want?”

Eddie points to a large, draped object by the door. “Ori wanted you to have this. Said you two talked about putting it in the speakeasy.”

“And she sendsyouto drop it off? Unbelievable. I don’t want anything from Ori.”

“You sure? It’s a great piece.” He pulls off the tape and blanket, revealing the etched mirror I’d admired all those months ago.

My chest tightens at the sight of it, but I force my voice to stay cold. “She should sell it. It’s worth a lot of money.”

“She wants you to have it, so I’m leaving it here. Do whatever the hell you want with it.” He wipes his hands against his jeans, then leans casually against the bar, his gaze sweeping the room. “Looks good in here. Real good.”

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