Destiny's Chance Read Online Free PDF

was. An introverted extrovert if there was such a thing. Zoe had known far more about her than Destiny had ever learned about her friend. Had she had an inkling she would die young and thus eschewed intimacy to avoid hurting those who might come to care for her? Laura had theorized that some people were travelers, passing through life on the way to someplace else. She’d speculated whether the individuals existed as flesh and bone at all. But it was just a theory. Laura at her most fanciful.
    In retrospect, Destiny realized they had become friends because Zoe had chosen her. They’d met on a photo shoot. Destiny had been one of two photographers; Zoe had hired on as one of five models. She’d held herself apart from the other girls and the other photographer, Destiny recalled now, but purposefully had sought her out, chatted her up, befriended her.
    Her last act had been one of friendship. They’d gone to lunch, and afterward, when Destiny’s car wouldn’t start, Zoe had offered her a lift to her photo studio. If not for her, Zoe wouldn’t have been in the wrong place at the wrong time—driving over a slick mountain road, visibility shrouded by rainfall. If her car had started, Destiny would have driven her own car to the studio, might have slid on the wet highway, and crashed in the canyon alone.
    So many ifs.
    “Oh, Zoe, I’m so sorry,” Destiny whispered. “I can’t believe this happened. Why now? Why like this?”
    Those answers would never come. The only thing she could do was move forward. Take first things first. Baby steps. Perform one act of normalcy. Like shower. She tucked her grief inside and stood up.
    Under Chance’s hawk eyes, she hadn’t been able to explore his living space, but she gave rein to her curiosity in the bath. It had his-and-her sinks, a separate bathtub, plus a spacious shower. Brown towels, one dry, one damp, hung more or less neatly over a rack. She pressed the wet one to her face and inhaled Chance’s clean, masculine scent.
    You’re pathetic! With a snort of self-disgust, she replaced the towel and arranged it the way she’d found it.
    The shower contained two kinds of shampoo, soap, and a pink, triple-blade razor. Chance’s black one rested on the tiled sink vanity along with shaving cream. Two electric toothbrushes, his comb, and a paddle brush.
    Destiny ducked her head and took a gulp of water from the faucet, then swiped her hand over her mouth and stared into the mirror. Would her reflection ever not shock her? The bruises purpling her cheek would fade with time, but her face would be forever.
    Tilting her head, she examined the stitches. The nurse had advised keeping the wound dry for a few days, but the rusty traces of blood matting her hair and the grunginess pervading her pores insisted she clean up. At the hospital, she’d been too freaked by the big picture to study the details, but after stripping, she subjected herself to a once-over. Under the camera’s lens and professional lighting, Zoe had appeared fragile and delicate, angelic. The bathroom’s harsh glare revealed a bonier, though still attractive, body.
    She palmed breasts that barely filled an A cup. Her former double Ds would have overpowered this skinnier body, but still . Why did she have to lose her boobs? Did Chance go for breasts? Did he wish they were bigger? How would it feel if he sucked on her nipples? The mere consideration caused the tips to harden. What her breasts now lacked in voluptuousness, they’d gained in responsiveness.
    She rubbed her uninjured temple. Get over it. He’s not yours.
    She continued her examination, twisting to peer over her shoulder. In a better frame of mind, she might have considered her new ass cute, perky, but she could only focus on the small tat decorating the dimple at the base of her spine. The infinity symbol. Eternity. How tragically ironic that Zoe’s life had been cut short, while she continued to follow that lazy eight.
    She faced the mirror again