The Neighborhood (Twin Estates #2)(2)

This isn't working.

It wasn't the first time Katya'd had that thought. She'd hoped to find some peace of mind in her little adventure. Become even more of a badass bitch. But really, she was just annoyed with herself and bored most of the time.

She would give it one more chance. Eros! A Site for Lovers was a San Francisco based company, specifically made for people living in and around the metropolitan area. As a promotional tool, they were having an event – cocktails and speed dating. She'd signed up on a whim, though at the time, she'd assumed she'd be swimming in dudes before the event even happened.

Now she was looking at it as a finish line. If she couldn't grow the balls to have some sort of sexual adventure by the end of the party, she would take it as a sign that she really and truly wasn't cut out to be a dating-app vixen.

One more. One more song-and-dance, then I'll hang up my slutty profile for real and say goodbye to new-Katya.





2


Breathe. Breathe. Don't think. Breathe. Breathe. Did I sign that paperwork the office sent over? Breathe. Breathe. Have to check that escrow deal. Breathe. Breathe. God, what is she doing right now? How did this get so fucked up. I knew I should have fucking listened to myself and kept walking – DON'T THINK. Breathe. Breathe.

While Wulfric Stone's natural habitat was an Olympic sized swimming pool, it wasn't the only form of exercise he got – he had a stressful job, he had lots of different ways of burning off the tension. Running came a close second to swimming for clearing his head. It created a different sort of burn in his muscles, produced a whole new plethora of aches and pains.

Sometimes, when he was particularly angry about something, he preferred it over swimming. With the swimming, after doing a couple miles worth of laps he could just float away. Literally. Lay on his back and be weightless for a while.

Not with running, though. How cruel – a sport that takes a person miles away from their starting point, and then when they push themselves too hard, they still have to turn around and do the same distance back. Feel like collapsing? No weightless pond to float in. No, the best case scenario meant hopefully finding a cool patch of grass to fall onto and praying his muscles didn't cramp up, all while gravity put pressure on every limb.

Yes, running was a very punishing sport, and Wulfric Stone was a very bad man who definitely deserved some punishing.

Breathe. Breathe.

His calves were burning and sweat was pouring down his body. He was pretty sure his lungs were getting ready to stage a coup and walk out on him. Still, he kept pushing, pounding his feet down harder against the ground.

How can I breathe when everything is so wrong?

Wulf let out a frustrated shout and ripped his earphones off. This wasn't working. He slowed to a stop. He knew it was a bad idea, he should jog for a while, reducing his pace slowly, but fuck it. Running away from his problems clearly wasn't helping. Maybe a massive charley horse would successfully distract him.

Or maybe it would give him a heart attack, that would be perfect.

He veered off the pathway, heading straight into the woods. A breeze hit his sweat slicked-skin, causing him to shiver. He grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and brought it to his forehead, mopping up the perspiration. When he lowered the material, he glanced around and realized he'd wandered so far that he couldn't see where the trail was anymore.

Good. Maybe I'll be lost in here forever. That would solve everything. Jesus, how did everything get so fucked up?

It was a rhetorical question, Wulf knew the answer. He had fucked it all up. Broken his own rules, gone against his own advice, and look what had happened. He was a mess, wandering around in the woods, cursing at trees.

And what was worse – he could've avoided it all. He'd known just how bad the ending between them could be, he'd seen it all unraveling from early on, and he'd tried to avoid it by doing what he did best. Being an asshole. After all, if he told her about their little scam, she'd leave him. If he didn't tell her and she found out, she'd leave him. If Liam told her, she'd leave him. It was very clear to Wulf that the only possible outcome was Katya leaving him.

So, like a true gentleman, Wulf had left her first.

Why did she come back? If she'd just stayed away, everything would be fine. Fucking fine.

Except it wouldn't be fine. He'd be a shell of man – or at least, a worse version than the one he'd already been – and she'd be convincing herself Liam was the perfect guy for her. Wulf couldn't stand that thought. Couldn't bear the idea of Liam touching her and kissing her and seeing her naked and making her sigh and gasp.

“AH!”

His fist slammed into the tree before he even knew his arm was moving. He hadn't pulled the punch at all, striking the trunk as hard as he could, but Wulf barely felt anything. He was numb.

So he hit it again. And again. And didn't stop till blood was running down his fist, and even then, he still didn't feel a thing. It was only the red staining his white t-shirt that gave him pause.

Of course I didn't feel anything. I'm Wulfric Stone, and stones don't have feelings.

Crimson liquid ran down the back of his hand, stark against his pale skin. Like turning the channel on a television from black-and-white to Technicolor. It shocked him a little, seeing his own blood like that. He finally looked up and took in his surroundings.