Healing doesn’t happen overnight. Neither does falling in love.
Frankenstein has nothing on this twenty-year-old. Okay. Maybe a few more stitches in a few more places but we both were sewn back together.
A year and a half ago, I lost my family in an accident that left me scarred inside and out and with a sizable inheritance I refuse to spend. Money can’t bring me happiness. No touch can bring me comfort, and desire—forget it. Who’s going to want me like this?
That’s what I thought until Grayson came into my life.
The ex-baseball star has a list of home runs on the field and off. He’s all wrong for me, possibly broken beyond repair. I can’t help him. I’m still trying to fix myself.
But when he’s near, parts of me spark back to life. And when he looks at me, I feel like my old self or a version of her.
How wrong would it be to pursue this thing between us? Could I handle it? Should I bother finding out?
Damaged? Me? Maybe a little. Fine,a lot. But I’ve been through some shit.
It’s not every day you find out your dad’s a liar and a criminal who launders money for the mafia. Trust issues are only one of my problems. Trouble has a way of finding me or maybe I create it. I turned down an offer to play in MLB and quit the game.
At twenty-two, I’m a walking disaster, which is fine as long as I keep my guard up and don’t bring anyone into my mess.
That was the plan until Braylee entered my life.
How can someone who’s lost so much face the world with more strength than I have in my batting arm? I want to devour her and shelter her at the same time.
I’m trying to be good. But that’s never worked for me in the past, especially when all I want to do is tear down her walls, her clothes, and anything else she’s hiding behind.
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