Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
Madi
I’d never been more thankful for hot roasted nuts and twenty-four hour gas stations in my life.
My not very heroic journey to Texas had been a disaster so far. Awake for thirty-six hours, driving for sixteen, sustained by cinnamon honey almonds for the last five.
I was this close to breaking.
“Come on. Please. Be a good car. Please make it to the mechanic.”
Smoke puffed out of the hood of my little Prius. The engine light flashed like a heart monitor. After thirteen years as my old faithful, it looked like my car was finally giving out on me. My pulse raced as I eased down the empty road.
I hadn’t spotted another soul in at least an hour. While Avery had promised a small town, I hadn’t quite realized what I was getting myself into.
“What in the hell is that?”
I leaned forward in shock as a tumbleweed blew alongside me before rolling away. An actual tumbleweed.
Bands of scarlet clouds stretched across the sky as the sun crept over the mountains in the distance. Cacti scattered across the dirt, thorns gleaming with the prickly promise of my demise.
Why had I done this to myself? Every single mile closer to this dusty place was another mile away from the city I’d called home most of my life.
But, my life was falling apart.
The breakup. Not just a breakup, but being cheated on with a sexy blonde that was two decades younger than him. I had half a mind to warn her to get as far away from him as possible, but maybe we all had to suffer the toxic narcissist older boyfriend stage in our twenties.
Losing my job hurt more than the breakup. My job was everything to me. Dream Ink was the proof I’d needed at holiday dinners that I was not only an artist, but a successful one. Now what was I going to do? Tell my parents they were right about art school? Fuck no.
My current solution was jamming all of my belongings into a tiny storage unit and pretending I’d definitely have my shit together in a few weeks. That was about the only thing I had going for me at the moment.
Every faulty thread I’d used to sew myself together had snapped. The few friends I thought I’d had in my life sided with Justin after the breakup, believing the story he’d woven.
Poor Justin. I’d neglected him. I’d been a terrible girlfriend. He’d only cheated on me because he’d met his soul mate—Veronica.
And they ate it all up. Every single rotten, tasteless crumb.
Hot tears burned at the corners of my eyes, but I was too stubborn and pissed off to let them fall.
My muscles tightened as I turned onto a street sandwiched by rows of cute buildings.
White stones with terracotta tiles on the roof were disrupted by a blue two-story hotel, a gallery, a flower shop—all bright, like jewels in a bin of sandstone.
“Thank god,” I whispered.
Finally, there were signs of life. A few people bustled back and forth outside the little hotel. A flash of pink and white waved in the wind. Ribbons? Really huge chiffon ribbons that were hideous. What in the hell were they decorating for?
I was just glad to see this town had at least five people.
My eyes darted forward again. “Fuck!”
I slammed on the brakes. The tires squealed as a woman froze in front of me in the middle of the street.
Oh my god, I’d almost hit her. My hand flattened over my wild heart as I stared.
Her eyes, lined with perfect wings, went wide.
She stood in front of me clutching a bucket of roses, her hair the same shade as the petals.
Tattoos crawled up her bare arms as she crossed them.
She had a cute, slender nose that fit her heart-shaped face perfectly.
Piercings glinted along the shell of her ear, her hips tilting as she glowered at me.
Fuck. I couldn’t believe I’d almost hit her. “I’m so sorry,” I called through the window.
This was humiliating. Maybe we could switch places and she could run me over? This was like the time I’d nearly backed into a woman and her child because they’d come from nowhere, and when I went to apologize, my hand slipped and I’d honked the horn. I still thought about that regularly.
“Sorry. I’m so sorry,” I said again.
The pink-haired woman shook her head and crossed the street toward the hotel.
Fuck me, she was gorgeous.
Fresh embarrassment flooded my veins. I’d never live this down. Running over a beautiful woman would be the final nail in the coffin of my poor decision to take this artist residency.
Smoke billowed from the hood as I eased my foot on the gas again, trembling.
I can do this. I can do this. I just needed to make it down the street, take a left, not hit someone, and get to the auto shop. Then I’d make my way back to that little hotel, check myself in, and stay in bed for a week.
The car hissed as I took a painfully slow turn.
A sigh of relief loosened the tension in my shoulders as the auto shop came into view.
I’d checked the listing and while it had a whole three reviews online—one of which made a particularly thirsty comment about the mechanic having pretty eyes—it was my only option.
Quite literally, the only option out here. The only other auto shop was about an hour away.
The moment the tires hit the tiny parking lot, I rolled into a spot, put it in park, and sank into the leather seat.
Victory.
I’d done it.
What a complete fucking nightmare. My eyes squeezed shut as I rubbed my temples. Sweat formed a line down my back from the stress of my drive, but I’d made it.
I’d successfully made it to Whynot.
Fingers crossed the mechanic could give me a ride to the hotel.
God, I needed sleep. My spine was stiff from hunching over the steering wheel, every joint molded together. Sleep, stretching, and a date with the vibrator in my duffle bag was in my near future.
I yanked the key from the ignition. My limbs protested and rejoiced in the same second as I got out and stretched. I leaned back into the cabin and snatched my phone, checking my messages.
BLOCK THIS BASTARD (Justin)
Are you serious, Madi? Did you egg my fucking house???
You know I could press charges for this!
Oh yeah. I should have done worse, actually. Throwing a carton of eggs at his door on my way out of LA hadn’t been enough. But, then again, nothing would be enough. I’d wasted eight years of my life with a man who hated me the moment I stopped obeying him like a dog.
Then again, the woman he’d cheated on me with had a diamond on her finger before my wheels had hit New Mexico.
That’s how sure he’d been that he’d found the one. And maybe he had. But Justin and Veronica could suck the tip of my imaginary dick. I hoped she got a yeast infection and he was devoured by the killer ants from my favorite Indiana Jones movie.
A couple of spine twists and a neck cracks later—god, I was crunchy—I walked straight up to the glass door of the shop. The cool metal of the handle felt good on my fingertips as I pulled.
And pulled again.
“You’re kidding me.”
I yanked with my entire body, but it didn’t budge.
Between the drive and nearly running over someone—I was so ready to be done with today.
“Come on. Are you fucking joking?!”
I pulled with all my strength, but my fingers slipped. I had two seconds to scream before I fell.
My ass thumped against the ground and I rolled back, limbs sprawling out as I came eye to eye with picturesque, postcard clouds. Pain radiated up my tailbone and all of the tears I’d been holding back threatened to spill over.
Slowly, I raised my head.
An orange piece of stock paper was taped haphazardly to the glass.
Off until Tuesday. —DW
“A thousand curses upon you, DW,” I whispered menacingly. “Curses.”
Only in a small town would the only mechanic be off on a fucking Friday morning.
My head plopped back as I dragged in a slow breath, trying to pull myself together. The kind of breath that kept me from screaming again.
What if I just stayed down here for the rest of my life until I collapsed into dust and blew away into the desert? What then?
You can’t give up.
Tears blurred the sky like a watercolor palette. I swiped them away, my nose burning.
I was on my own. No job lined up. Single. In a small town in the middle of nowhere. Not to mention, my anxiety was a nasty stone gargoyle that sat on my shoulders, heavy and weighing me down, keeping me pinned to the asphalt.
The all too familiar feeling that nothing was going to work out threatened to drown me. The little voice that constantly whispered I wasn’t good enough or that something bad would happen because that’s what I deserved or that I was a failure.
Shrink, it urged me. Shrink and keep myself unseen. Keep myself out of the way, keep myself in line. I didn’t want to be a problem for other people. I didn’t want to be the reason someone’s day was bad.
For so long, I’d sold myself the dream. Perfect job, perfect boyfriend, perfect life where I couldn’t be anything but happy, right?
Instead of living the dream, I’d shrunk. I’d shrunk and shrunk until I met a guy that saw a crumbling stone and knew just how to chip the jagged edges until they were smooth and moldable.
Justin had been nine years older than me. Just old enough that at twenty-two, I didn’t catch the way he could twist my words. I’d been so sure that I was immune to manipulation at that age, and yet I’d fallen straight into it.
If I could go back in time, I would have told myself don’t shrink. Because once you did, it took years to come back. Years to be comfortable taking up space.
I wasn’t sure that part of me would ever be fixed.
Eight years.
Eight years of not doing the things I wanted.
I wasn’t ever going to let that happen again. Even though this was most definitely a disaster, it was still a chance for something new. A chance to reclaim the part of me I’d lost.
Never again. I’d never pass up a chance for something good again.
No more hiding myself. No more letting anxiety and self-doubt get the best of me. No more Broken Madi.
My cheeks puffed as I got to my feet, brushing off the dirt clinging to my black leggings and tank top. I wasn’t helpless. I was exhausted, hangry, trapped in a spiral after nearly running over that gorgeous woman, and in desperate need of coffee—but I would figure this out.
The person who’d emailed me about the artist residency told me to let her know if I had any issues. I picked up my phone, chewing my bottom lip as I slumped against the car. I scrolled through my emails until I found hers. Avery Whynot.
I added her number to my contacts and pressed call.
“Hello?” a deep and sexy voice answered.
“Uh—Avery?” I squeaked.
A couple chuckles echoed in the background.
“She’s busy. Who’s calling?”
God, he was gruff. If I knew any better, I’d say a werewolf had answered instead of a human man. “Um, my name is Madi, I’m the artist visiting Whynot for the residency. My car broke down and I just got to the mechanic shop, but it’s closed, so I don’t really know what to do.”
“Oh.” His voice immediately lightened. “Sorry. I thought you were going to be a spam sales person or something. Hold on.”
I swear—did I just hear a slap? Was someone getting spanked? My cheeks heated, my eyes bugging out of my head.
Damn, it’d been a long time since I’d been spanked. Too long.
“Oh my god,” a fresh voice said. This was the voice I knew from our first call. “I am so sorry. Hey Madi, it’s Avery. Do you need help?”
In more ways than one. “My car broke down and I wasn’t really sure what to do. I’m sorry if I’m interrupting anything. I’m just a little stranded.”
“You’re totally fine. We can definitely help.”
Another man’s voice was muffled in the background, and Avery mumbled a curse.
“Do you want me to pick you up? Or I can send someone to scoop you and take you to the bed and breakfast. I think you’re going to love it once you get settled in. I’m sure you’re exhausted from your drive.”
“I don’t want anyone to have to do anything,” I rushed out. “I can always walk to the hotel—”
“Oh god, no. We all want to help. Don’t even worry about a thing, we’ll get you where you need to be. How about you just hang tight? I’ll send someone over, okay?”
“No, it’s okay, I don’t want to bother—”
“You’re no bother. Just stay there.”
The phone clicked off and I ran my fingers through my hair. I hated disrupting her morning, but I had a feeling that even if I’d solved everything myself, Avery would send a fleet of Texans to help me.
I couldn’t help but wonder what it was like to have two boyfriends. I had so many questions, and all of them were entirely too nosy, along with a small dose of envy. Although, my bisexual ass didn’t want two boyfriends.
A girlfriend and a boyfriend though?
Maybe. After the hell of being with Justin, though, the last thing I needed was something serious. I’d already decided after our breakup that if the chance came up for me to have hot, kinky sex—I’d take it.
Getting my back blown out sounded like the perfect bandage for a broken heart.
Here, I reminded myself, no one knew me. No one knew me as the failure who lost her job, her apartment, and long term relationship.
I could start fresh. New and Improved Madi.
Maybe I’d even become a version of myself I actually liked.