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Prologue

Mia

“Hey, I’m here,” I yell through my parent’s house.

“In the kitchen,” my mom calls.

My childhood home brings me a comfort that I’ve yet to find anywhere else. It’s filled with good memories. I miss having that. I’ve searched for it, but I tend to end up with guys who are anything but comforting.

My dad has always been there for my mom. I’ve never heard them argue or even disagree. They appear to have the perfect life. Over the years, I’ve wondered if that’s possible, even looked to find something that wasn’t perfect with them. The harder I looked, the more it became clear that whatever their secret to success is, it’s something I’ll never find.

“There’s my beautiful girl.” My mom kisses my cheek and gets back to finishing dinner.

“Where’s Dad?” I ask, pouring myself a glass of wine.

She smiles as she finishes mashing the potatoes. “He’ll be home shortly. He had some business to take care of.”

He always has business to take care of. Being a successful prosecutor has its benefits, but it has its downfalls too. There have been times when he’s working on a case that we wouldn’t see him for days at a time. But it also provides us the luxury of living the way we do.

“How’s your friend doing?” she asks.

I smile, sipping my wine. “She’s great. Going back to Vegas.”

I miss my friend, Ivy, and she hasn’t even left yet. I don’t have many—actually, I don’t have any real friends. She was as real as they get, but she was following her heart and her positive pregnancy test back to Vegas.

My mom sits down across from me and frowns. “I’m sorry. I know you enjoyed having her friendship.”

“It’s not about me. It’s about her happiness.”

“For me, it’s always about you. I just want you happy,” she says.

I get up to get more wine. “Mom, I’m a grown woman. You don’t need to worry about me. I’m in charge of my happiness now.”

“Letting go isn’t easy,” my dad says, walking into the kitchen.

I shake my head, grinning as he kisses my mom. “So I keep hearing.”

“How’s everything going?” he says, kissing my cheek.

I tell them about work and my nonexistent love life. My mom continues to tell me not to settle and that the perfect guy is out there. It gets tiresome hearing it constantly. I understand parents feel like their child is the best, but sometimes my parents are over the top with it.

“How’d everything work out with your friend?” my dad asks.

“She’s moving back to Vegas. Thanks for helping her get out of her lease,” I say.

“No problem.”

I finish off my wine, thinking about the guys that came to her place. I was equal parts turned on and scared. They were all unbelievably hot, with a hardness that I’m sure you need to know them to get through. I’ll be honest. I can see the appeal.

“Her boyfriend is actually part of a motorcycle club,” I say.

“What? I’m glad she went home. You don’t need to be mixed up in any kind of criminal activity,” my mom says.

I laugh, tucking my hair behind my ear. “I met some of them. They were all very nice and extremely protective of each other.”

“Where did you say your friend was from?” my dad asks.

“Jim,” my mom says.

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