Don't Need You - Lilian Monroe Page 0,32

here only tells me that I need to keep a respectful distance. As much as my feelings for her are growing, I need to stay true to my word. I need to resist the urges that grip my spirit and remember that Serena is Robbie’s twin sister.

She’s not mine to take, or have, or want. Not now, not ever.

12

Serena

When Kit asks me if I want to go grab a drink with a few of his friends, my eyes bulge. Angelo never asked me to join him when he went out.

I don’t mean to compare them all the time. It just pops into my head every time Kit does something that surprises me. Every time he treats me like a real person, asks me what I think, or does anything remotely thoughtful, I can’t help but compare him to Angelo.

A small part of my brain thinks it’s pathetic and I should get a grip, but a bigger part of me feels like I’m discovering what life could be if I were with a guy who truly respected me. I’m seeing everything I missed.

It also reminds me how much of a hold Angelo still has on me. His venom still curls within me, breaking me down as I try to build myself back up. It’s just another sign that not only do I need to stay away from Kit for the obvious logical reasons, but I need to stay away from him for my own sanity, too. There are too many dark parts in my psyche that need to be healed before I can even consider being with a man. Any man. Kit included.

We head to a bar in town and Kit raises his arm toward a group of people in a booth. He gives me a rapid-fire introduction and slides onto a chair.

One of the girls in the booth scoots over and nods to the seat next to her. “Take a seat, Serena.” She smiles, tucking a strand of curly red hair behind her ear.

“You’re Willow, right?” I say as I sit down.

“Nadia,” she corrects with a kind smile. “That’s Willow.” The beautiful blonde girl in the corner of the booth gives me a little wave.

I nod, accepting a beer as it’s placed in front of me. Nervous butterflies flutter in my belly as I take a sip. I don’t remember the last time I was out with friends. It’s been years. How am I supposed to act, again? My heart thumps as my palms grow sweaty, worried that I’ll say the wrong thing.

Nadia pushes a basket of fries toward me and tells me to eat. “We ordered too much,” she says, smiling.

Before I can answer, a big, booming voice calls out over my shoulder. “Well, well, well. What do we have here? Fresh meat.”

A tall, broad man wearing a bright yellow hoodie and a red beanie arches an eyebrow at me, not hiding his interest. Almost-curly brown hair pokes out from beneath his hat, and days-old stubble covers the bottom half of his face. His eyes slither down my body and back up again, then he grabs a chair from the next table, flips it around, and straddles it backward, leaning his arms on its back.

“Careful, Racer,” Willow says. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

“My hands are safe and sound all the way over here.” He grins, lifting his palms. “What’s your name, baby?”

“Well, it’s not ‘baby’,” I spit before I can stop myself.

Kit snorts in his beer, laughing. His eyes flick to mine, a spark firing in their depths. My stomach clenches. I like it when he looks at me that way. Like we share a secret.

Racer grins, pushing his beanie back as he scratches his head. “Feisty. I like it.” His head turns as another girl enters the bar and he excuses himself, sauntering over toward her with a loud greeting.

“Don’t mind him,” Willow says, leaning toward me. “He’s harmless.”

“Mostly,” Nadia adds.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Kit answers, his eyes narrowing at Racer. When he looks at me again, I expect to see anger.

Instead, his lips tug, and he shakes his head as if to say, whatever. Under the table, I feel a foot nudge against mine. Kit’s eyes linger, and his knee touches mine.

My heart does a cartwheel.

I hide my emotion behind another sip of beer.

Here I go comparing Kit to Angelo again, but it just never ceases to amaze me. Angelo would have been on his feet, getting up in Racer’s face and possibly even punching the