A Want So Wicked by Suzanne Young Page B

away, he chuckles.
    â€œAnd now that I’ve properly humiliated myself with my constant flirtation,” he adds, “I’ll say good night, and hope that tomorrow night we can have dinner again. In seats, maybe?”
    â€œLike a date?” My heartbeat quickens.
    â€œLike dinner.” He turns to leave, sliding his hands into the pockets of his work pants as he begins to whistle. I’d offered him a ride home, but he said he preferred to walk. And once he’s gone, I bite off a piece of jerky, thinking about tomorrow.
    Lucy is going to be so proud.
    A loud rumble cuts through the cooling night air, and I look up to see a motorcycle pull into the 7-Eleven. My heart skips a beat when I recognize the rider, and I set the beef jerky aside.
    He notices me and comes to park next to my car, cutting the engine. The silence is thick around us when he does. “Hi,” he says, like he’s surprised to see me here. He takes off his helmet, hanging it on the handle bar. “Late-night fix?” He grins and motions to the cupcake wrapper.
    â€œIf I see another taco I just might poke my eyes out,” I respond, standing and smoothing down my shirt. “So I thought this was a good alternative.”
    The guy nods politely, then glances back at the store. “I should, uh—” He points toward the door, as if asking my permission to leave.
    â€œOf course,” I say. “You know, you should come by the restaurant again one day. Maybe this time I’ll be the one to bring your soda.”
    â€œI sure hope so,” he says. “Your coworker was highly efficient, but not nearly as distracting. You might have some competition for employee of the month.”
    â€œWell, as long as you’re rooting for me.”
    â€œI definitely am,” he murmurs, watching me as I walk around the car to get in. I’m glad he didn’t mention the fact that my sister nearly ran him down earlier.
    â€œWhen do you work next?” he asks suddenly. I look over my shoulder.
    â€œTomorrow.”
    â€œThen I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    He’s so calm and collected—confident in a way I’ve never seen. It’s like I could tell him anything. I decide to start with my name. “I’m Elise, by the way,” I offer. “Since you never asked.”
    He winces as if he’s shocked by his own behavior. “That was awfully rude of me,” he says, his voice tender. He takes a step closer, the lights of the store showering his face in a soft glow. I’m once again stunned by how handsome he is. “It’s nice to meet you, Elise,” he says, a slow, sexy smile pulling at his lips. “I’m Harlin.”

CHAPTER 8
    W hen Harlin goes inside the convenience store, I leave for home—the dread returning. In just a matter of days, my life has begun to spiral out of control. Hallucinations, memories . . . visions. On top of that, my sister is disappearing all the time, my dad is overworked and worried, and I have a sort of date with Abe tomorrow.
    And of course, now there’s Harlin.
    When I pull up to my house, the front door opens. Lucy bounds toward me as I park the car. She’s dressed in all black except for the light reflecting off her eyebrow ring.
    â€œYou’re late,” she says, reaching out her hand for the keys. “Thought you’d be home a half hour ago, but thank God for small favors, right?” She climbs into the driver’s seat, cringing as she does. She raises her eyes to meet mine. “Stupid lady parts,” she says.
    â€œWait, what about Dad?” I ask, checking the time on my phone.
    â€œI’ll be back before then.”
    Our father does a midnight service on Wednesdays at his church. A lot of his parishioners can’t make it in the morning or on the weekends because of their jobs, so he started this to accommodate them. It’s been a big hit, but I know he worries