Page 6 of Sinful Temptations

“She does. Not sure how many she downed last time before I found her. She said they taste like chicken.”

Even though it was wrong, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Quick, go save her. Love you.”

“Love ya too. Dick pics. Need dick pics. Bye.”

Chuckling, I ended the FaceTime.

I eased back onto the wooden seat, twirling the stem of my wine glass between my fingers.

My mind rewound eighteen years. I was eleven years old, and Mother had been furious at me for being sent home from school. She’d had plans. And me being home was not one of them. She’d repeatedly yelled that she’d wallop me if I was faking it.

I hadn’t been. My throat had burned like hell. My eyes had too. I hadn’t been able to sleep, yet I couldn’t stay awake.

Mother’splanhad been a guy called Gary. He’d turned up with slicked-back hair and reeked of cologne.

While I was sweating in my bedsheets at one end of the caravan, Gary had looked uncomfortable as she’d led him to her bedroom at the opposite end. But based on the noises barely minutes later, he’d snapped out of it pretty quickly.

Ironically, it was Gary who’d convinced Mother to take me to the doctors. Tonsillitis had been the diagnosis, and Mother had made a show of being a doting parent at the clinic. Driving home, though, she’d scolded me for the doctor’s fees and fucking medication she couldn’t afford.

I gulped the rest of my wine.

Zali was right. Fuck Mother.

She didn’t deserve me. I was not running back to her just because she’d asked. Mother needed to earn my respect and trust first. I would never love her again. We’d gone way past that.

Besides, love was a fallacy. It didn’t exist.

Except when it came to friends like Zali. And Roman—not that I loved him. Pfft. No, no. But even though we’d only known each other for twenty days, I could already tell we were going to be great friends. Especially once I helped him get over his ex.

This is going to be fun.

I stood and reopened the doors to my balcony. The rain had subsided, and little drops spilled from the railing hitting the metal below like an erratic metallic heartbeat.

Across the terracotta rooftops, the full moon had materialized on the distant horizon. As I followed its slow crawl upwards, providing a warm glow over the drenched streets of London, I had the strange feeling it had meaning. Like it was showing me that no matter what happened, life went on.Or maybe that big, bright light represented me standing up for myself, being bold.

That was it! It was time for me to look after me.

Mother could wait.

The next five months were about me. And Europe.

And sexy men.

And sex. Lots of sex.

And Roman. Definitely Roman.

Chapter Two

Ileft my tiny loft with a spring in my step, ready to do something I’d never done before—lingerie shopping. Not underwear shopping.Lingerie.

And not at my local department store that was dedicated to providing cheap Chinese knockoffs.No, no, no.I, Daisy Chayne, was on a mission to give my breasts the quality apparel they deserved.

I caught the train into London central. Despite being way past peak hour, it was still crammed full. But it wasn’t just work commuters. The moms and bubs were out in plague proportions. Was there some sort of diaper revolution or infant protest going on that I’d missed in the tabloids?

It wouldn’t surprise me. Keeping up with newsworthy events was not my thing—way too depressing. A spaceship could land on the Tower of London, and I wouldn’t know about it until six days into the alien invasion.

Me and about a thousand pram-pushing women disembarked at Piccadilly Circus, and dodging around them, I raced toward the main street.