Chapter 2
I was a liar. A big ol’ lying liar, waiting for my pants to spontaneously combust the moment I said the man in front of me was not my type. Because wow.
Huddy still held my hand, tugging me further down the street and away from the train that would take me to my apartment. It was a little odd, holding hands with a virtual stranger, but he gripped it like maybe he needed the connection. And I couldn’t seem to pull away.
I’d always been impulsive and a little too trusting, but the stern set of his jaw and his eyes scanning the streets felt protective in a good way, not in a I-might-still-rob-you way. Heat radiated off him, a steady comfort I had no business craving so much.
“Where to?” I asked belatedly, my brain scrambled by the expanse of Huddy’s broad shoulders. He was a foot taller than me and his long strides showed it. I hustled to keep up, not quite ready to drop his hand either.
Huddy tipped his head down to look at me. “You good with a hole in the wall?”
His hazel eyes were rimmed in gold under the streetlights, showing a mix of kindness and humor that had me weak in the knees.
Most of his face was covered in a dark beard that seemed a little unkempt, but it did nothing to detract from the city-cowboy thing he had going for him.
Dark hoodie, dark hat, dark jeans that were plastered to muscular thighs, leading down to worn-in cowboy boots that seemed more than a little out of place for Chicago.
He was a conundrum, and I was somehow incapable of looking away.
“Sure,” I said, a beat too late. Despite the bitter wind I should have seen coming—this was the Windy City after all—my cheeks warmed with a blush that probably spread all the way down my neck. “I’m easy.”
With his hand in mine, I felt the rumble of his laugh, even though he didn’t make a sound, just enough to realize what I’d said.
“Oh, my God. I cannot win.”
I tugged my hand from his grip, ready to run back in the other direction and away from this man who had my mouth uttering words with a dirty undertone at every turn. He loosened his grip, enough to give me the choice to leave, but not enough to let me go easily.
And somehow, that seemed to encapsulate everything about this night.
Maybe I wasn’t the only one running from whatever came next in my life.
“Truth or Dare?” I asked again when the silence dragged on between us.
“Well, since I’m such a dare guy, truth.”
“Where were you going before this little side quest?”
His steps faltered for a moment, then he regained his long strides, walking with purpose once more. He didn’t answer right away, but I could see the indecision warring on his face. Brow creased, eyes looking anywhere but me.
“No where.”
“That’s cheating.” I nudged him with my elbow. “You have to answer honestly.”
He shrugged those big shoulders, his fingers tightening in mine. “It’s the truth. I quit my job today, and I’m moving tomorrow. I didn’t want to go home, or out with my friends. So, I just started walking.”
“Why don’t you want to go home?”
He looked down at me when we stopped at the next block, hazel eyes looking amused. “But now it’s my turn. Truth or dare?”
I tapped my chin with my free hand. “Dare. Please don’t make me regret this.”
The light turned, and I stepped off the curb, still smiling, still riding the easy rhythm of the night. I liked cities like this—noise, motion, a hundred places to look at once. It was easier to stay on the surface when everything around you was moving too.
Unfortunately, that also meant I didn’t see the car until it was already coming fast.
Headlights cut through the dark. An engine roared. Tires screamed as the car blew through the red light, and the sound hit something deep in my chest, sharp and immediate.
For one suspended heartbeat, time slowed, and the weight of everything I held at bay came crashing down—the panic, the grief, the loss, the things I didn’t think about if I wanted to keep breathing.
Huddy moved before I could.
One second he was beside me, the next he was in front of me, his arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me back as the car skidded to a stop. He planted himself between me and the danger without hesitation, like his body had already decided the outcome.
By the time we reached the other side of the street, my heart was pounding—from fear, yes, but also from the negative thoughts and doubts and regrets swirling beneath the surface of my mind.
See? This is a sign. I shouldn’t have come here.
I’m not good enough to cut it on my own.
Violet wanted me gone because it’s easier when she doesn’t have to take care of me, too.
“You good?” Huddy asked. His hands were warm on my shoulders, his attention steady, grounding me in the here and now.
I nodded woodenly, shoving aside my creeping thoughts. I chose joy the way I chose air—without stopping to think about it. Not because the sadness and fear weren’t real, but because if I let myself linger there, it would pull me under.
He ducked his head to meet my eyes, that hazel gaze careful and concerned.
I smiled, feeling myself balance out once more. “Yeah,” I said lightly. “Still waiting on my dare.”
Live music drifted out of a bar across the street, drunk patrons milling about after midnight as (I’ve Had) The Time of My Life began playing. Huddy followed my gaze to the crowd dancing and singing, then looked back at me.
“I dare you to dance from here ’til the next corner.”
A laugh stuttered out of me, sudden and breathless, like the sound itself shook the last of my fears loose. I dropped his hand and spun to face him.
Instantly, I launched into the Patrick Swayze dance-walk—knees bent, shuffle step, fingers snapping to the beat. “You’re going to regret this.”
“I’m going to regret this?”
“Oh yes.” I pointed at him, already swaying. “I’m about to embarrass us both.”
The music pulsed through me, loud enough to drown out everything else, and I leaned into it—shimmying, circling my arms, letting my body take over in what I hoped was some semblance of rhythm, but who knew at this point.
I danced in place as he walked closer, waiting until I could wrap an arm around his waist and circle him, my other arm flung wide like I was claiming the sidewalk as my stage.
Without thinking, I started to sing along, hips moving freely now, every ounce of hesitation burned off by the rhythm. This—this—was where I lived best. In motion. In moments too bright and loud to leave room for doubt.
The song grew quieter the farther we moved from the bar, but I belted out the lyrics anyway, meaning every word as it rolled into the chorus.
“Please don’t do the leap,” Huddy said when I started to dance backward again.
I waggled my brows, dropping lower, shaking my ass harder to the beat. “But how else will I know if this could be love, Huddy?”
He stopped moving, feet planted, shoulders squared, looking unsure what I was about to do—but bracing for it anyway. Hands loose at his sides, knees bent just enough, ready for whatever chaos I threw his way.
The fact that he didn’t tell me to stop—that he didn’t laugh it off or try to rein me in—hit me so hard in the chest I almost missed a step. This man, who’d known me for all of a few city blocks, wasn’t trying to control the moment.
He was meeting me in it.
Before I could think too long about how bad of an idea this was, I took off running.
I laughed at the dawning horror on Huddy’s face as he realized I actually meant it. Right here. On a dark city street. No practice. No plan. Just trust.
He bent his knees, hands out, just as willing as I was to see how this played out.
At the last second, I slowed, throwing my arms around his neck instead of attempting a suicidal leap, feeling his hands land solidly on my waist as we collided.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, like I’d knocked the wind out of him.
His hands tightened as he spun me in a circle, my laughter spilling free, bright and unstoppable. My arms cinched around his neck, my whole body buzzing with the sheer, reckless joy of it.
When he finally stopped, I slid down his chest, skin tingling where we were still pressed together. “You really thought I was going to try to leap into your arms over your head?”
His hands stayed on my waist as he shook his head, chin tipped down toward me. “I had no fucking idea what you were about to do.”
“Would you have tried to lift me?” I asked, still grinning when I loosened my hold to rest my hands on his shoulders.
“I mean,” he said honestly, “I wasn’t going to drop you.”
The words landed heavier than they should have. His hands. His certainty. The way he said it like it was a given.
Even with how little I knew about Huddy, I believed him. That if it came down to it, he’d do whatever he could to keep me safe.
And shit—that was hard to wrap my head around.
Safety, especially with men, had always felt theoretical to me.
Something other people grew up with, but I’d never experienced.
My mom was gone before I learned what it meant to lean on someone, and my dad had taken the first exit he could find.
Since then, I’d learned to move fast, stay light, keep my feet under me.
It was just me and Violet against the world.
“You’re not exactly convincing me I’m out of the danger zone,” Huddy said, glancing down at where my hands still rested on his shoulders.
I looked up at him, breath shallow now, joy still humming under my skin. “I think you could use a little more time in the danger zone,” I whispered. “That’s where the real joy is. Where you feel it.”
“Oh yeah?” His hands tightened on my waist.
When his gaze dropped to my mouth, it stole what little air I had left. I wet my lower lip without thinking, and his eyes tracked the movement, focused and intent.
My smile faded—not from fear, but from the sudden weight of how big this felt. How much this moment mattered. As cliché as the song was, I knew one thing for sure.
I’d never felt like this before.