Bring Me to Life. Kira Sinclair

angry with him had never been her strong suit.

      Not that she was going to fall back into bad patterns. Not this time. This wasn’t him forgetting to call her while he was out playing wingman for Lock. Or trading in his car for a Harley without talking to her about it first.

      Taking a deep breath, Tatum finished her trip to the cooler and set the arrangement on the shelf.

      The sooner they got this over with...

      Cold air swirled in when she flipped the lock and opened the door for him. He didn’t say anything, just straightened from his slouched position and sauntered inside.

      Irritation bubbled through her veins. Which was good. She needed it, especially after last night. Otherwise, she was liable to flash back to that damn kiss.

      He brushed close to her body. Her nipples tightened. She told herself it was the cold, but she knew that was a lie.

      After busying herself with locking up behind him, Tatum bustled into the back and trusted he’d follow.

      “Nice to know you’re not in a broken heap on the side of the road,” she threw over her shoulder. The door started to swing shut in his face, but he caught it, the smack of his hands against wood reverberating between them.

      “Nice to know you care.”

      “Who said I do? You roared off so hot and bothered, any decent human being would be worried. Especially when you didn’t come back.”

      And that was another lie—of course she cared. At first, she’d been angry. Obviously. Then she’d gotten worried. And started imagining his body a contorted pile on the side of the highway somewhere.

      It had done a number on her head. If he’d died the day he popped back into her life...she might have hired some black magician to raise him from the dead so she could strangle him herself.

      Needless to say, she hadn’t slept well.

      Tatum reached for another handful of blooms, needing to keep her hands busy. She wasn’t going to ask. She didn’t want to know. It was none of her business. And yet, the words tumbled out anyway. “Where did you stay last night?”

      “At that park in the middle of town.”

      A rose fell from her hands, bruising its velvety petals as it hit the table. “Dammit,” she muttered under her breath, snatching up the flower to inspect it. “What do you mean you stayed at the park? It was freezing last night.”

      “I didn’t notice.”

      Tatum stared at him. Did he have a death wish? Was that it? Or were the pain receptors in his brain not working? Sure, he’d always run a little hot, her own personal space heater during cold winters, but that was taking things to the extreme.

      “Had things on my mind.”

      “What things?”

      “Nothing for you to worry about.”

      A muffled sound of frustration rumbled through her chest. “Whatever.” His secrets had never bothered her before. Probably since he’d always been open about what he could and couldn’t tell her. It wasn’t like he was lying to her...simply unable to give her all the details.

      Now, though, those secrets had taken him from her, so maybe she was resentful.

      “We need to finish our conversation.”

      Tatum dropped her focus to the flowers spread across her table. Something bright and cheerful, that’s what she’d do next. Completely the opposite of the traditional Christmas green and red that always made her stomach feel as though a pit had opened up and was trying to swallow her insides. Something that would take her mind off whatever revelations and nightmares Evan was about to share.