Don’t waste another someday.

His words ring like truth in my soul, speaking with an honesty I never afford myself. I don’t want to waste my life, but isn’t that what I’ve been doing this entire time? Have I only masked my decisions with survival when really they’re based in complacency and a fear of failure? Even more unsettling is Sean’s ability to see through the bullcrap I feed myself. The same talk that keeps me from striving for anything more than merely getting by.

My questions are cut off by the vibration of his phone in my hands. I glance at my lap, and his caller ID scrolls across the screen with the words ‘Mom & Dad.’ “Um, your parents are calling.”

“Do you mind?” He glances at me and then the screen. “They won’t stop calling until I pick up.”

“Yes, of course. Here.” I move to hand him the cell but he shakes his head no.

“I got it.” He clicks a button on the dash and the speakers amplify with the static of the line. “Hello,” he says.

“Sean, how’s my favorite son?” A man’s voice booms through the speakers.

Sean adjusts the volume and rolls his eyes. “I’m your only son, Dad.”

“Yeah, I guess so. Hey, I wanted to make sure you were okay. After we talked last week—”

“Dad, I have you on speaker. I’m driving. My friend Jess is here, too.”

“Hi, Mr. Willis,” I offer lamely, because I’m not sure of the proper protocol. Sean obviously didn’t want his father to share details of their earlier conversation. Even though he’s the one who took the call on speaker, it feels as though I’m intruding on something private.

“Jess! Hi. I’ve heard so much about you.”

So much? I glance at Sean and he laughs a little sheepishly when he catches my stare. “Come on, Dad. Don’t embarrass her.”

“What? I’m not allowed to talk to my son’s friends?”

Friend. Yeah, of course that’s why he told his father about me. That, and I’m connected to the band through Coy. I don’t know why I suspected it would be anything more, and shake the thought from my head.

“By all means.” Sean rolls his eyes but I can tell he’s not really that annoyed. He must have a good relationship with his father. I wonder what that’s like. Truly.

“Is my son behaving himself, Jess? He’s not getting into too much trouble these days?”

“He’s the perfect gentleman, Mr. Willis.”

“You can call me Terry, unless you want to call me Dad.”

“Dad!” Sean turns to me and mouths, “Sorry.”

“What? I like this girl. I’m just saying I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

“I’m hanging up now, unless there was something else you needed?”

“No, just calling to see how things were holding up. Call me when you have time to chat.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“You two have a good time off to wherever you are going!” Terry says.

It strikes me funny because we aren’t out for fun, as enjoyable as this ride has been, and a giggle escapes my lips.

Sean presses his lips together and makes a point of rolling his eyes as he shakes his head at his father’s words. “We’re going to rehab.”

“Just to visit, I hope.” His dad’s sharp inhale causes Sean to roll his eyes again.

“Funny. ’Bye, Dad,” Sean says as he pulls his car into the immaculate driveway of what looks more like an estate than any treatment center I’ve ever seen. This must be how the rich get clean.

“’Bye, Sean. ’Bye, Jess. Nice to hear your voice. Hopefully, I’ll meet you when the band comes through our state in a few months.” The hope in his voice pricks at my own uncertainty.

“Yes, sounds good,” I manage to respond before Sean ends the call. Will Coy still want me with him once we hit the road? Will the label even be able to get me a passport? The fear of being left behind in Los Angeles or somewhere on the road quashes all the ease I was able to gain on this drive with Sean.

I shouldn’t have come along this morning. Coy won’t be happy when he learns where I’ve been and with whom. I worry that somehow I’ve sealed my fate with my spontaneous decision to join Sean. In the moment, I needed to get out of the house, but now . . . maybe I should have stayed put.

My mind races as Sean shifts to park and cuts the engine. He rolls up the windows but doesn’t move to open the car door so neither do I. Catching his stare, I’m surprised to find his usual confidence missing. He almost appears as scared as I feel.

I move to open my mouth, to offer him words of advice or consolation, but I come up blank. I don’t want to say something stupid or embarrass him by pointing out his discomfort. In the end I don’t have to because he breaks the silence between us with words of his own.

“Thank you, Jess.” His jaw works back and forth, his gaze transfixed on the doors to the center. “For being here. I appreciate it more than you will ever know.” He turns his head and emotion gets caught in my throat. The vulnerability in his gaze catches me off guard. Sean keeps things light. Comfortable. There’ve only been a few times he’s looked at me in the way a man looks at a woman he desires, and those moments have toyed with my emotions. But this. This is something altogether different. It’s not about a physical attraction; it’s so much more. And the way he’s opening up feels sacred.

His gaze drops from my eyes and lands on my lips. I can’t help but wet them with my tongue because they feel dry under his scrutiny, and I swear he exhales a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and growl. The space in the car charges with each breath. I’m stuck in its pull; scared to break the magic, and fearful of being pulled in further.

With a hooded gaze he lifts one hand between us and my eyes follow his fingertips until they press softly against my cheek. It’s only then I allow my lips to part and exhale the breath I’m holding. My eyelids drift closed and I want to lean into his touch. My body thrums with the promise of more.

He brushes the pad of his thumb across my cheek and over the shell of my earlobe. “Jess.” My name is pained on his lips and it’s enough to snap me out of whatever this is.

I shift and pull back until I’m leaning away from him. “Well, my DJ skills are on point.”

There’s hurt in his gaze with my silent rejection, and I have to look away. Not that we did anything—not that he even asked—but I’m not naïve when it comes to men and women. The heat in his eyes made his intent clear enough. I don’t have the luxury of exploring where that would lead. I’m with Coy. I’m loyal to him. Even still, I can’t help but wonder what would happen if things were different. If for once in my life, I were free to do and be whatever I want.

“I hate to admit this, but you make a mean DJ, Jess. I wasn’t sure you could recover from that Mmm Bop crap, but you did.” His smile is warm, easy, and back as if nothing happened. “Come on, let’s get this over with.” He nods to the building before opening his door.

I do the same, and meet him at the front of the car. “Anything I should know about Iz?”

“Don’t give him drugs if he asks.”

I laugh but Sean doesn’t join in. Crap. He wasn’t joking. I turn and reach out to keep him from walking forward, but drop my hand from his arm as soon as he halts. “I’m sorry, Sean.”

He meets my stare and shrugs with an audible exhale. “Yeah. Me, too. You don’t have to come back to visit with me if you don’t want. You could stay in the reception area. I would understand.” His gaze drops and he kicks the toe of his shoe into the gravel of the drive.

“No. I’m with you,” I say, and his gaze lifts. “I’m stronger than I look. This doesn’t scare me.”

His lips lift with a slight grin and he nods to the front door, waiting for me to take the first step. I walk ahead but within two strides he’s back at my side.

“I’ve never thought that about you. I think you’re pretty damn strong.” He reaches forward and opens the door, holding it for me to pass first. As soon as we’re inside, we’re shuffled through a quick guest orientation, and for that I’m grateful. I don’t exactly know what to think of Sean, or what he expects of me, but the man has already become someone I don’t want to live without. That’s a dangerous thought for a person like me.

* * *

I recognize Iz immediately from all the times I’ve seen Three Ugly Guys in magazines. He’s waiting for us and stands with a wide smile for Sean, opening his arms to embrace him at our approach. “God damn, brother, it’s good to see you.”

Sean takes a step back and rests his palm against the small of my back. “Iz, this is my friend, Jess.”

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart. A friend of Sean’s is a friend of mine.” He extends his hand and smiles when I place mine in his palm to shake.

“It’s so nice to meet you.”

“You two mind if we head out back? It’s not too bad in the shade.” He nods toward the large window and pats his pockets.

Sean nods and we follow Iz down a short hallway and out a door that leads into the backyard. Yard is an understatement; it’s like a set from a movie out here—one where the star quarterback lives with his trophy wife. Down a paved path there’s a set of white metal chairs. Iz nods for me to take a seat and I’m relieved that Sean pulls his next to mine. A simple gesture, but one that makes me not only feel included, but protected.

“You don’t mind if I smoke, do you, Jess?” Iz already has the cigarette between his lips, but his thumb hovers over the lighter, waiting for my answer.

“Not at all.”

The flame crinkles the end of the paper and he leans back, sitting across from us both. He blows the smoke to the side, a simple yet polite gesture. The acrid smell is still there, but he’s not drowning us in it. I wonder whether Sean will smoke too. I still haven’t seen him partake. In fact, I’ve only seen Austin smoke, and even he’s not regular with it.

Neither of them speaks, and while the silence should be uncomfortable, it isn’t. It’s a gorgeous morning, and peaceful sitting here with only the occasional bird to serenade us.

Iz makes it through two cigarettes before he clears his throat. “I’m sorry, brother. For what I said last week. I shouldn’t have put you in that position.”

“It’s fine.” Sean waves him off but there’s something in his gaze that’s apprehensive.

Iz lights up another smoke before meeting Sean’s stare. “It’s not. It’s not okay to use friends. I don’t want to be that man.”

“All is forgiven, brother.”

Iz nods at Sean’s dismissal, but it’s clear whatever happened between the two is bigger than they’re letting on. The silence that grows in the almost manic way Iz inhales his next cigarette suppresses the space between them even thicker than the smoke he exhales.

I don’t know Iz. I barely know Sean. But it’s clear these two need a little help building a bridge. Sitting up straight in my chair, I catch Iz’s stare. “So, Iz, did I hear you’re from Cali? I only moved here a few months ago and I’m still trying to visit all the must-see locations.”

He nods, his weathered lips pulling wide with a trace of his smile. “Girl, you picked a good place to call home. There’s nothing like this state. A few hours’ drive and you can be anywhere you want. Desert, ocean, forest . . . The only regret I have is not doing more exploring when I had the time to appreciate it properly.”

I don’t miss how his last words fall with a hopelessness. As if his life is already over. I have no clue what his treatment plan is, but I do know addiction isn’t something you can walk away from. It permeates every aspect of your life, present and future, including those who stick around. I don’t know him well enough to pry into the personal questions though, so I go another way. “What’s your favorite? Of all the places.”

Iz leans back into his chair, kicking his legs out on a long exhale of breath. He squints, tilting his face up to the sky, his lips lifting at the edges. “Well, let’s see here . . .”

Sean straightens in his chair and perks up with interest, his gaze trained on his friend.

“Torrey Pines. Back in my twenties I had myself a beautiful girl. We’d go there with a six pack of beer and food she snuck from her parents’ corner store. Maybe it wasn’t the most beautiful place, but the memories . . . Damn, she was a firecracker.” Iz meets my stare and I don’t need a mirror to know my face is stained with my blush.

“Iz . . .” Sean warns with a hint of laughter.

“Sorry.” He chuckles and nods his head. “Just remembering. God, I haven’t thought about Lou in years. There was this one cliff, right in the center of the park and we’d drive out as far as we could, then hike the rest. On top of the world. On top of the fucking world, that’s how it felt up there with waves crashing down below and the wind whipping our hair. Plus, it made for a good excuse to hold her tight.” He winks and chuckles again.

“What happened with the girl?” Sean’s question doesn’t chase the smile from Iz’s face but it surprises me. To wonder about Iz’s young love shows he has a romantic side.

“Like all good things in life, I ended it, stupid kid that I was. Lou was quite the looker. Sweet, too. The kind a good man would settle down with, but I was a wild mess, looking for my slice of adventure. But still, she entranced me for a long summer.”

It’s both a sweet and sad story.

“You two should go visit Torrey Pines. Make the time before you don’t have any more.”

“Oh, we aren’t—” I stumble over my words.

Sean interrupts and gives Iz a hard stare. “How about we take you there? When you bust out of this joint.”

“Yeah.” Something flashes across Iz’s gaze. Something I can’t quite name, but looks a lot like melancholy. He stubs out the butt of his cig and pulls out another. “So, what’s going on with the band? You find a replacement for the tour?”

Sean glances at me before meeting his stare. “Yeah, we did. The label hired a guy.”

“You like him?”

Sean’s jaw works back and forth before he answers smoothly, “He gets the job done.”

Iz bursts into laughter and points his cigarette toward me. “You see that? That right there is one of the most polite answers in rock and roll history. This guy doesn’t lie, but he also doesn’t tell the truth.”

“Iz.” Sean narrows his gaze, but it only causes Iz to laugh again.

“Just giving her a fair warning.” He holds his hands up and shrugs. “Ain’t no harm in that. Unless you don’t want her to have your number.”

“I want Jess to have everything.” Sean holds Iz’s stare, but I can’t wonder exactly what he intends. Everything? I don’t deserve to have everything. Is this some dig based on his assumption I’m freeloading off of Coy?

“That so?” Iz’s brows rise and I kinda hate how they’re having some inside conversation as if I’m not here. I might not know everything, but I can tell when someone’s laughing at my expense.

“Yeah? That so?” The words sneak out sharper than I intend. “I can ask you anything, anything at all, and you’ll give me a straight answer?”

“I will.” Sean twists in his chair and levels his stare. “Try me.”

I lick my lips and clear my throat, but never drop eye contact. I’ve a pretty good aptitude for spotting liars. “What do you really think of your new drummer?”

Sean’s forehead crinkles as his brows narrow, but he doesn’t hesitate to answer. “I think he’s a narcissistic asshole who gets off on putting down his girlfriend in front of others. He might have some people fooled, but I see through the smoke screen of his weak character. He doesn’t know how good he has things. If he did, he’d treat his woman with the respect and love she deserves. Because his girlfriend, she’s pretty fucking amazing, and a woman like her should be treasured.”

Iz lets loose a long whistle. “Damn, Sean.” He laughs. “Tell us how you really feel?”

“That’s the truth.” His eyes pierce my gaze and I’m unable to look away. He’s telling the truth. That, or he’s a damn good liar.

“We should probably go.” The words slip through my lips. As soon as they do, Sean looks away. As much as I hate myself for suggesting we leave, his opinion of Coy is only a reminder of what’s waiting at the house. If we don’t get back before he’s awake, there will be hell to pay. At least for me.

Sean glances away. “Yeah. We better roll, Iz.”

“Thanks for coming, brother.” Iz crushes the end of his cig on the ground before standing to hug Sean. “Appreciate it.”

“Anytime.” Sean pats his shoulder before stepping back.

“And you . . .” Iz tips his chin and extends a hand for me to shake. He steals a side glance at Sean before bestowing a big grin my way. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Jess.”

“Thanks for letting me crash your visiting hours.” I keep my smile easy and force a lightness into my voice I don’t really feel.

“Anytime.” He winks and nods at Sean. “He’s a good man, that one. Better than most. But you’ve probably figured that out.”

I have. But before I can open my mouth to respond, Sean’s hand is at the small of my back. It’s the lightest of touches, but my entire body thrums with a craving for more. More that I shouldn’t have. More that I don’t deserve.

“See you next week, Iz.” Sean lifts his hand to wave at his friend and I immediately miss the connection. The warmth from his touch stirs a need inside me that can’t be met with sex or financial security. It’s a need for more time with Sean. More innocent moments that feel so much greater than they should.

Those are the thoughts that turn me inside myself the rest of the ride home. The drive back is nothing like the ride over. Gone is the playful banter. No boy band music singalongs. He doesn’t hand me his phone; instead, he settles on some satellite radio mix. It’s my fault, too. I’m an expert at putting up walls.

Sean doesn’t point out my silence. He doesn’t give me a guilt trip or coax me into conversation. I’m grateful because it doesn’t turn the quiet into awkwardness, but at the same time my gut churns with disappointment. As if I want him to call me out and break down my safe front. As if I want him to see all of me. Stupid, pathetic, and pointless since that’s not what he wants. The ugly parts are there along with my good, and even a glimpse would send him running.

The signs approach for our exit and it’s only then Sean lowers the music and glances over. “Hey, are you hungry? There’s this Mexican food joint on the way. They have burritos that are to die for.”

“Oh, um . . .” I sit up in my seat and check the time on the dash. It’s almost noon, and dread fills my mind. There’s a good chance Coy’s already up, and delaying the inevitable will only make things worse.

“We have to go. They’re so good.” He’s not asking, but the way he lets the words linger gives me an out. “You have to be starving. I know I am.”

“I am, actually.” I blow out a breath and force a smile. “But shouldn’t we get back soon? Everyone might start to wonder—”

“Oh, yeah. Totally.” He nods like it’s no big deal, but the hurt is there. He was reaching out an olive branch and I didn’t take it.

“I’m sorry. It’s just I don’t want Coy to worry.”

“It’s cool, Jess. In fact, that’s an even better idea. We’ll hit the drive-thru since it’s on the way and bring food back for everyone.” He makes a right turn and pulls to a stop at the next light before meeting my stare. His lips lift in a smile that’s much too generous for what I expect. “Hey, it’s fine. I’m being selfish wanting more time, but you’re right; we should head back.”

“Thank you.”

“I should be the one thanking you. I really appreciate you coming with me today, Jess. More than you know.” His gaze clouds over and I want to ask what for. I want to know why his sunny enthusiasm turns to gray. A horn behind us blares and we both glance up to a waiting green light. Sean cringes with a sheepish smile, sending us forward with a foot to the gas.

Twenty minutes later we walk into the house with two white paper bags of food. The aroma is mouthwatering and my stomach rumbles appreciatively. I should be scared, or at least anxious about how Coy will react, but I don’t allow myself to worry. If he’s upset, he has every right, and whatever consequences result are ones I deserve. It’s been nice to take a timeout from life. To ride with the windows down and bask in someone else’s attention for a few hours. But that’s not real life. Having a taste of something better only makes me wish for what I can’t have.

“Dude, yes!” Trent pops off the couch as Sean and I walk past the living room with the food. “Nando’s?”

“As if there were any other choice.” Sean’s lips lift to a grin as he sets the bags on the counter and slides them in front of me.

“You are the best!” Trent says. “Aust! Get in here, man. They brought food!”

I begin unpacking the bag of burritos and dividing the different sauces.

“Nando’s! Fuck, yes!” Austin joins us at the counter.

A chuckle escapes my lips as everyone reaches for food and stuffs their mouths as if they haven’t eaten in days. They don’t even bother with plates or silverware, just unroll one end of the foil wrapped tortillas and take bites.

“Come on, Jess. Eat.” Sean bumps my shoulder with his elbow.

“I will.” I laugh and grab one of the burritos. I should find Coy now, but I really am hungry. I eat a few bites, hoping he’ll join us on his own, but that doesn’t happen. Delaying the inevitable won’t help. I fold the foil back over my food and catch Trent’s stare. “Is Coy up yet?”

Trent shakes his head. “Haven’t seen him. I think he’s still out for the count.”

“I’m going up to check on him.”

“But you didn’t finish your food.” Sean narrows his gaze at what’s left.

I pat my belly and roll my eyes. “I can’t keep up with you. I don’t know where you put it all, but I’m good.” I stick my thumb over my shoulder. “And I should really go check on Coy.”

“Yeah, right.” Sean nods, but there’s no ease to his smile. “We’ll save some for you both.”

The guys continue to eat and talk, their voices fading as I walk to the front room and up the stairs. Down our hallway it’s all quiet but for the hum of the air conditioner. It’s almost too much to hope that he really is still asleep. I turn the handle and step in our bedroom to find the lights out and the darkening shades drawn shut. I let the door swing closed behind me with a soft click, and it takes a few minutes for my eyes to adjust.

“Babe?” I walk to his side of the bed.

“I’m right here.” I jump at the snarl in his hard reply from behind me, and there’s no sleep in his voice. He clicks on a lamp and floods the room with light, and once again my eyes work to catch up. Cracking his knuckles, he sits on the ottoman next to our dresser. He’s too still. Too calm.

An eeriness settles along with the growing fear in my belly. “Coy, are you okay? Why are you sitting in the dark?”

“Where the hell else am I supposed to sit, Jess?” He lifts one eyebrow and narrows his gaze.

“Coy?” I take a step forward but his next words stop me from coming closer.

“What the fuck is going on?” His tone is controlled, his voice low, and the hair on the nape of my neck stands up with dread.

Shaking my head, I take a step backwards, already anticipating his charge. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Damn, you do.” He shoves to his feet, stalks across the space between us, and shoves a small piece of paper in my face. He wads the paper into a ball, throws it on the bed, and turns away to pace the length of the room.

I don’t know what it says, and curiosity gets the best of me. I reach out and retrieve it, ironing out the crinkles to read the note. No, no, no. Sean must have left it this morning.

Coy turns, approaches like a brooding storm, and rips the note from my hands. His other hand grabs my arm just above the bend in my elbow. “Are you cheating on me? With him?”

“Sean? What? No!” I say, but it’s no use because the minute my eyes lift to his I can tell he’s already gone. You can’t stop a tornado once it’s begun. The only thing to do is weather the storm and pray you survive the chaos. Hope the destruction isn’t too devastating to rebuild.

“You are, aren’t you? You’ve been an unfaithful little whore. Just like when I found you.” He shakes my entire body from where he yanks my arm.

“Coy!” I say as calmly as I can.

“Don’t Coy me. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” His eyes narrow to slits and he shoves me so I fall back onto the bed. It’s only a moment before his body’s over mine, pinning me to the mattress. His hand slides over my breast, up to my neck, and cups my throat. “Are you fucking him?”

I try to shake my head, but his hand doesn’t allow me much movement. “The only man I’ve been with since the day we met has been you.”

“Don’t lie to me.” His fingers tighten around my neck. He’s rougher than he’s ever been but I know he’s just upset. I made him this way. “You like him, don’t you?”

“Baby. Don’t. I can’t—” His fingers squeeze and holy shit—I may pass out. Tiny lights, like spotlights, glitter at the edge of my vision. Oh, God. No. I don’t even have the will to fight him. My lips won’t move, and I’m so close to giving in to the darkness. But before I do, he loosens his hold enough for me to suck in air. I gasp. Oxygen fills my lungs and my vision clears.

I don’t even see his hand come. The sharp sting of his slap gains him my complete attention. “I know what you’ve been up to. You think you’re clever, don’t you? Doting on him right under my nose like I won’t notice. Like I don’t know you’re always waiting for him outside in the mornings. That you two have your little private chats? Does he make you feel special? Is that it? Does he make you feel like more of a woman than I do?”

Tears gather in my eyes, but I blink them back and shake my head. Crying never works; it only makes things worse. “No, Coy. It’s not like that at all.”

He slaps me again, so hard my vision dims and my ears ring.

“Don’t you lie to me! Don’t fucking lie!” He pulls his hand up again.

I’d shrink back but there’s nowhere to go. “I’m not. Baby, I’m not.” My eyes plead with him as much as my words.

A snarl twists his features. “You’re nothing to him. You get that? You’re just some pathetic loser girlfriend with no job, no skills, no money. The only thing you have is this—” He roughly palms the apex of my legs. “And that’s mine. Fucking mine. You understand me?”

A tear, solitary and traitorous, spills from the corner of my right eye for Coy to witness just how much his words wound. That I do enjoy every fucking minute of those conversations with Sean. That I shouldn’t, but I do. “Please, don’t.” Desperation melds with my plea and I fight the desire to shut my eyes, a vain attempt to block out the truth of his accusations.

A chuckle erupts from Coy’s mouth, almost manic, and it’s enough to gain my attention. Still pinning me to the bed with his body, his lips press together in a smug smile as he leans over me. “God, you’re stupid. You’d have nothing without me. Nothing. You know that?”

More tears follow the trail made for them and I tilt my chin away so I don’t have to see his disgust mirrored along with my own shame.

“No. Don’t you dare,” he growls, and before I can move, he has my chin between his fingers, yanking my gaze back to him. “You’re mine, Jess. Mine.”

I know what he’s asking for. I know what he needs, but a little piece of me dies to admit defeat, even if I know he’s right. “Yours,” I whisper as more tears leak from the outside corners of my eyes.

His lips are on mine in an instant. Punishing and brutal this time, and I don’t doubt he’ll leave marks. His fingers wrap around my throat, this time for pleasure and within moments he’s removed my clothes and slides inside me. He takes and takes and I just lie there, letting him. Giving him what he’s owed.

Would Sean ever fuck me like this? Is this how he fucks other women? The thought only coils the guilt deep within my belly. Thinking of another man—my only real friend and my boyfriend’s bandmate—while Coy’s cock pulses inside of me is so, so wrong. But I don’t even try to stop.

Closing my eyes, I imagine what it would be like if I were just some girl, beautiful and confident, talented and famous, and free to love whomever I choose. The kind of girl who would be with someone like Sean. That’s all it takes for my orgasm to rush through my body and I come, clenching tightly around Coy. My own release is what helps him reach his own climax.

“Oh, God. Jess.” He comes inside me, huffs out two ragged breaths, and then rolls onto the mattress beside me. “God damn it.”

“I’m sorry.” They’re the only words that croak through my parted lips. What am I apologizing for? I’m not entirely sure, but it’s the heavy weight of regret that pushes me to always say them after a fight with Coy.

He props a pillow under his head and pushes up on his elbow to gaze down at my naked body. I watch him while his fingertips trace the curve of my hip, over my belly and between my breasts. They pause at my collarbone and his eyes widen. “Oh, Jess.” His voice is full of anguish. “I’m so sorry.” He lowers his head to press soft kisses at my throat.

He’s sorry. I know he is. But still, the fear from the strength of his hands around me and the anger in his eyes not minutes ago comes back to push more tears from my eyes.

“Jess, I’m sorry.” He pulls me into his side, wrapping me in his arms. “God, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know,” I confess. He doesn’t mean to. I knew better than to get in Sean’s car without asking his permission.

“You must hate me.” He sniffs back his own tears.

I open my eyes and meet his stare. “I don’t.” I could never.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I know you would never cheat on me. I know you wouldn’t.” He cradles me to his chest. But I feel unworthy of his affection, of his apology. Because the truth? Though I’ve never touched another man, I am unfaithful. With my mind. With my thoughts. With my hopes and dreams. When I envision the perfect life, Coy’s nowhere in it. Those are the thoughts that haunt me as I drift to sleep in his arms. That, and the fear he’ll discover exactly who I am. That he’ll know for as much as nothing happened today between Sean and me, I wasn’t completely innocent. Not in the way Sean made me feel. The way he made me hope for more. Shame and guilt are familiar friends, and wrap their fingers around my skin, bruised and sore, when I finally find rest.

We lie together for the rest of the afternoon, exhaustion from not sleeping last night finally taking hold. It isn’t until long after the sun’s light fades from between the slats in the white wooden blinds that Coy stirs and leaves our bed, heading straight to the bathroom and shutting the door. The water from the showerhead hits the marble of the shower, along with music from his phone.

Unable to fall back asleep, I sit up and flip on the bedside light. I pull on a T-shirt from the floor, one that Coy wore a few days ago. Reaching under the bed, I sneak my journal—the notebook Deb gave me—from it’s safekeeping of a simple shoe box. I let the pages fall open, along with my most private secrets, and pick up the pencil to etch more onto a blank page.

I knew better. But I went anyway.

What does that tell you about the kind of person I am?

My hand lifts to the marks I know are pressed around my throat, and up to where my cheek is tender and swollen. Coy has his demons, but at least he doesn’t hide them from me. Not like I do with him.

I deserve the pain. It’s nothing compared to what lies inside. He doesn’t always punish like today, but for a second, right before I was about to pass out, I thought he might kill me. He might not stop this time. And the scarier thought? A part of me wanted him to. To make it all go away. To end this—

“Jess?”

I jolt at Coy’s words and snap the book shut.

His eyes zero in on what’s in my hands and with the towel wrapped around his hips, he marches toward the bed and rips my notebook from my grip. “What is this?”

“It’s my journal.”

“Your journal?” His jaw works back and forth. “And you what? Write shit in here about me? About how fucking horrible I am?”

“No.” I shake my head but that isn’t entirely true. I do write about him. The bad, the good, and the truth. I never intended for him to read it. I never wanted anyone to read what’s inside. I was stupid to ever give ink to the thoughts I don’t dare speak aloud.

“No?” He holds the book up to the side of his face. His eyes are hard looking down on me. “You won’t mind if I have this, then?”

My hands itch to grab it back, but I can’t do that. Instead, I reach for a pillow and tug it into my lap. “They’re only my thoughts, Coy. Some ideas I have. That’s all, I swear.”

“Oh, you swear? Does that mean anything to you? Does it?” His hands ball into fists and the notebook folds in half under the pressure of it. A force I understand all too well, and one I don’t wish to provoke. Not after earlier.

“I’m sorry, Coy.” There’s nothing else to say. If he reads it, I’m afraid he’ll be pushed to the edge. He won’t like what I wrote. He won’t want me. He’ll be done, and after that . . . I’ll have nothing.

“Sorry.” He grinds his jaw with his glare. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re thinking, Jess. For once I have everything, everything I want, and you just can’t wait to fuck that up.”

My hand goes to my throat and his eyes follow the movement.

“Fucking hell. You want to throw that in my face, too!” My neck. I haven’t looked, but I have no doubt the bruises are already visible. His phone chirps from the other room, and he walks back into the bathroom without another word. And with my most sacred words in his hands.

I wait, unable to move and hardly able to breathe as he bangs around in the bathroom. Expletives fly and so does something else, hitting the tile floor with a crash. Still, I don’t move, held immobile by helplessness. What can I do? Coy has every right to be angry, and the words I wrote in that journal will only seal the fate I always expected.

He’ll leave me.

Coy storms back into the room, fully dressed and ready to go out with my journal still gripped in his left hand. He walks past, not even glancing up, as he pockets his wallet off the dresser.

I want to ask where he’s going. I want to beg him not to leave. Not read the book. I want to beg him to never leave me alone. Instead, I sit on the mattress in his day-old shirt with a blanket pulled over my body for protection.

It isn’t until his hand is on the doorknob that he acknowledges I’m in the same room. “What you did today? With this shit.” He slaps the journal against the door and I jump at the sound. “It’s unforgiveable, Jess. It’s fucking traitorous.”

“I’m so—”

“Don’t,” he snaps, pointing his glare so I want to slink back and disappear. Anger. Hate. Disgust. It’s all levied on me. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. I don’t see how I can move past this. How the fuck am I supposed to trust you?” He drops his gaze and shakes his head. “I’m going out with the guys. Don’t wait up.” He disappears with the slam of the door. He’s gone from the room. Maybe even my life.

I really screwed up this time.