Page 17 of Mercy

But another part—the part that's been hurt and used before—haunts me.

Don't get too attached.

You're just a clubwhore, a hora. This can't be anything real.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to silence the negative thoughts.

But they persist, reminding me of my place in the MC world.

I'm not old lady material.

I'm not the kind of girl guys like Tor end up with.

And yet...the way he looks at me, the gentleness in his touch—it feels different.

Special.

With a sigh, I push off the door and head to the bathroom.

Whatever this is between Tor and me, I decide to enjoy it while it lasts.

Even if it's just for today, even if it's just breakfast at a diner, I'm going to let myself feel this happiness.

Because who knows?

Maybe, just maybe, there's a chance for something more.

I stand in front of my closet, biting my lip as I survey my options.

My fingers brush past the usual club attire—short skirts and revealing tops—before landing on a pair of dark wash jeans.

They hug my curves in all the right places, making my ass look fantastic.

I slip them on, feeling a flutter of excitement in my stomach.

"Get it together, Meghan," I mutter to myself, reaching for a push-up bra.

As I clasp it, I can't help but smirk at my reflection.

Tor's certainly going to appreciate this view.

I pull on a long-sleeve black t-shirt with a lace v-neck, the fabric soft against my skin.

It's sexy without being too obvious—perfect for snagging breakfast together.

In the bathroom, I lean close to the mirror, carefully applying a light coat of mascara and a touch of lip gloss.

Nothing too heavy.

I want to look like myself, just... enhanced.

"You're being ridiculous," I tell my reflection, but I can't stop the smile tugging at my lips. "It's just breakfast."

But as I make my way downstairs, my heart hammering in my chest, I know it's more than that.

It's Tor.

It's the possibility of having something I never thought I'd have.

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