DARKEST DESIRES

15

Monet was at a clothing store with Sacha and Lauren, helping pick out things for university. However, it seemed like Lauren was getting the most out of it, practically speaking, considering she was the one picking out most of the clothes.

"I think this would look really good on me, let me try it on," Lauren said, holding up a dress. Monet and Sacha were both getting fed up with the endless rounds of Lauren trying things on.

"Just this once," Lauren added as she headed toward the changing room. As she disappeared, Monet turned to pick something else from the rack.

"So, when are you getting a new girlfriend, Sacha?" Monet asked, a teasing smile on her face.

"Wow, that’s the first thing you could think of?" Sacha chuckled, shaking his head. "I don’t think I’m getting one. Let me just be the one to give bad advice to couples."

"Oh, wow, like what? You mean, like it doesn’t last forever?" Monet teased, crossing her arms.

"Yep, because it doesn’t."

"You just go for the wrong ones, Sacha."

"That makes the two of us."

"Really?" Monet said, handing him her shopping bag. "I need to use the bathroom." Sacha nodded, and she walked away.

After using the bathroom, Monet made her way back to the store, but as she tried to navigate through the aisles, she suddenly felt a firm grip around her waist. Instantly, she clung to the stranger holding her. The scent wasn’t familiar, and the tattoo on his hand sent a wave of recognition through her veins. Her heart pounded furiously, as though it wanted to rip free from her chest, desperate to escape.

A shiver ran through her when she felt a hot, wet kiss pressed to her neck.

"What do you want, Christian?" Monet’s voice lacked its usual sharpness, trembling under the weight of her fear. He was the last person she wanted to see. She tried to twist away, but his grip was ironclad, and it was no use.

"Leave me alone," she whispered, her voice tight with desperation.

"Why?" His hot breath lingered across her face, sending a chill down her spine. She needed help—more than she'd ever admitted.

"Christian, please." His grip loosened at the sound of her voice, raw with vulnerability. He finally released her, and Monet drew in a shaky breath of relief. She took three quick steps away from him, her body still trembling, before turning to face him.

He hadn't lost his edge. In fact, he looked even more striking than she remembered, though something about him seemed... different. His hair, once dark, was now a bleached blonde with dark streaks, cut into a clean mid-fade. He wore a black sweater shirt, camouflage cargo pants with no pockets, and black Air Jordan 7 high-top sneakers with a white base. He looked good—too good, almost.

She couldn’t help but wish his insides matched his outside.

"Monet." His voice carried her name with a smirk, and she frowned, irritation bubbling up inside her. She was beginning to hate everything about Christian, and every little thing he did seemed to irritate her more than the last.

"So..." He slipped his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants, his posture casual, but his eyes piercing. "...why the long face?"

"Christian, what do you want?" Her voice was sharp, though her pulse betrayed her, racing at the proximity of his presence.

He stepped closer, and this time, Monet didn’t move back. Her heart skipped beats, betraying her no matter how hard she tried to stand tall, to find the courage to face the man who looked like an angel but whose soul was clearly anything but.