Silas (Dirty Aces MC #4) - Lane Hart Page 0,15

oversized furniture, bright, happy colors and ocean view, it feels like it could be a home, even though I’ll live here alone.

“Could I have a roommate?” I ask the agent. His jacket is gone, the sleeves of his button down rolled up his forearms as he examines the suffocatingly hot attic for leaks. He seems incredibly concerned about water getting in, which I guess makes sense given the location of the house on an island. There are probably a lot of bad storms that come through.

“No roommates,” he responds.

“What if I want to find someone to help out with rent?” I question him.

“You don’t need a roommate,” he says when he turns to face me, sweat beading on his forehead and making his shirt stick to his massive arms. “And you need to lay low for now, remember? Avoid talking to people, getting to know them and shit. You shouldn’t trust anyone.”

“Right,” I reply. “That should be easy since I haven’t made any real friends in years.”

“Why not?” he asks, his brow furrowed, his perpetual scowl deepening.

“Sometimes I think I’m invisible,” I admit with a sigh.

“Invisible? You’re joking, right? With your bright red hair, I could pick you out of any crowd in a heartbeat.”

“Nope. It’s true. It’s hard for me to get to know people. I don’t usually talk to anyone unless they speak to me first. Otherwise, I could say something and feel stupid when they blow me off.”

“So you really don’t have any friends?” he asks.

“I really don’t. Pathetic, right?”

“And you don’t date much?”

“Not usually more than once a year. They never stick, though,” I explain.

“Why not?”

“Eh, various reasons. Probably because they don’t want to see me again. Maybe because lately I only go out with typical, boring assholes who are just looking for a one-night stand and move on when I turn them down.”

“You don’t like boring assholes?” he questions.

“No, I actually have a history of dating the wrong kind of man, bad boys who get into trouble and drag me into it.”

“Bad boys? Really? That’s surprising…”

“Well, it’s true.” I start ticking them off on my fingers. “The worst was going to jail for arson thanks to the last one. Another, the one before the arsonist, robbed my parents blind. They were so pissed at me for bringing him home while they were out of town. Then a third, before the robber, well, I should’ve known we weren’t in a real relationship when he only snuck in between the hours of midnight and three a.m. But I swear I had no idea he was married, not until his wife showed up where I worked and beat the shit out of me. Needless to say, I lost that job for bringing drama into the workplace.”

“Holy shit. I don’t even know where to start with all that,” Agent Sheppard mutters.

“Those were the three strikes it took for me to stop making crappy decisions about the men I went out with. So, I’ve only dated boring guys ever since. Supposedly they’re good guys, but I’m not exactly convinced yet.”

“Huh,” he replies. His dark eyes stare at me with what I think could be interest, or maybe it’s just pity. Has to be pity.

“Sorry. You probably didn’t want to hear about my pathetic love life, or lack thereof.”

“No, it’s just…I can’t figure out how someone so beautiful could have such shitty luck with men.”

Beautiful? Did he just say…he thinks I’m beautiful? Is he attracted to me?

“How could you be so stupid to fall for not only a pyromaniac, but a thief and an adulterer?” he asks, which completely wipes out the compliment. If it even was a compliment.

“Guess I was stupid,” I admit. “The truth is, I was just happy to have someone, anyone show an interest in me, to actually see me for once, that I ignored all of the red flags.”

“So you did see the red flags but overlooked them?” Agent Sheppard asks.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Ignoring them and not seeing the flags are two totally different things.”

“Really?” I ask in confusion. “How so?”

“Maybe you were just looking for a little excitement in your life,” he remarks. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Until it gets me into trouble,” I respond as I watch a drop of sweat race down the side of his corded neck and disappear into the collar of his shirt. No, no, no. I cannot fall for an FBI agent! He’s only here to get me settled in and then he’s gone. Adios. So long, never to