Shirley
By the time I closed up at the bar the next night, I felt like I was carrying a weight I couldn’t name. Tessie’s words kept circling through my mind like an echo I couldn’t silence. I just want to be your friend.
No one says something like that without meaning something else. Especially not a stranger who knew my name before I ever gave it.
I tried to shake it off, to pretend that it didn’t matter, but my instincts wouldn’t let me. Something about her—too polished, too pointed, like she’d rehearsed everything—made the back of my neck itch.
And Dante noticed. Of course he did.
He leaned against the doorframe of my room, arms crossed, eyes dark with that mix of authority and possessiveness that only he could pull off. “You’ve been quiet all night.”
I shoved my boots off and flo
