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Men like me don’t get happy endings.
When my demons talk to me, I talk back.
I heeded their call when they demanded my parents’ death.
I even listened when they ordered my own.
And they nearly won.
Until her.
One night changed my life. Then I lost it all. I lost her.
Now, I’ll do anything to get my sunshine back.
But can a sinner like me be willing to share after learning I’m not the only one craving her light?
Jordyn:
When a man shows you his red flags, run.
But running from Adam is easier said than done.
When he re-enters my life, my world implodes with the secrets he’s keeping.
Can I forgive him and learn to live in his shadows? To be the light he thinks I am?
Or will his darkness consume me?
Abel:
Witnessing your twin nearly die, hardens something in you.
I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Adam breathing.
As kids, he’d protected me, even though that was my job as the older brother.
Now, it’s my turn to protect him.
You can run little sunshine, but you won’t get far.
If Jordyn’s what my brother needs to keep his demons at bay, then I’ll claim her for us.
She’ll be ours, always.
I hum a tune under my breath, slightly dancing in place as I move forward in the line, wiggling my body back and forth.
Caffeine makes me happy.
And I enjoy the excuse to get out of the house, to feel like an actual human being instead of a robot answering calls and dealing with insurance prior authorization claims—my work-from-home job. It pays decently, but I still pinch pennies, and these little treats are worth every dime.
For mental health.
Nodding to myself in agreement, I smile when it’s my turn at the counter, spitting out my order by memory alone without needing to look at the menu. I’m reaching down for my purse when a familiar pair of tattooed fingers enter my line of sight, tapping a card to the terminal before I’ve a chance to grasp my wallet.
Whirling around, I gape up at Adam, soaking in the sharp angles of his face, piercing aqua eyes, and aristocratic nose. Metal glints in the light, a piercing on the edge of his bottom lip and three hoops through the upper helix of his left ear, leaving the right undecorated.
I’ve missed him so much I could kiss him.
I don’t, though, blinking and taking a step back upon realizing we’re holding up the line.
He places a hand on my hip, guiding me away from the counter to the area where completed orders get placed. Stunned, I let him.
“W-what are you doing here?” I mumble then mentally say fuck it, reaching a hand out to grasp his bicep.
Mae K. Knight is a self-published author based in Louisiana, who enjoys writing “trauma boys” as her readers coined them, BIPOC FMCs that look like her and fast, smutty stories that leave you craving for more. When not writing, she’s reading monster romances penned by her fellow indie authors, studying for her nursing degree, or lifting heavy weights in the gym to feel like a bad bitch on a competition platform.
If you want to read more of her work, check out her website: https://maeknight.carrd.co, buy signed paperbacks directly from her: https://mackandmae.shop or go directly to her Amazon page for her KU titles: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Mae-K.-Knight/author/B0D3674KWR. Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61560507610143
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/49729390.Mae_K_Knight
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Thank you so much for featuring THEIRS UNTIL ALWAYS today.
ReplyDeleteI liked the excerpt.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for posting and sharing. I am thanking you on behalf of Mae K. Knight as her personal assistant.
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