Every thread of anti-relationship fiber I had left in me Kayson ripped this weekend. When I woke and found only chilly sheets next to me, I realized that I’d missed him before he left for work.

I tried texting him, and after several hours of no reply, my mind was playing tricks on me, and all sorts of unwanted thoughts started to creep in. I decided to get ready and go to the fabric store since there were several things I needed to buy.

As a seamstress slash wanna be event planner, the fabric store was my mecca. I could spend hours looking at the latest patterns and materials or buying yards of great fabric that I found on sale. There were some things that I couldn’t have too much of: lace, satin, silk, beading, rhinestones, tulle, and even taffeta. As noisy as the shit was, it was still the traditional fabric for bridesmaids and prom dresses. Among the yards of fabric, I hoped to find the answers I needed. Was Kayson okay? Why hadn’t he called? Scanning my phone one last time, I moved to the checkout lane, which was at least a thirty-minute wait, and dialed him, but the call clicked over to voice mail.

The second I stepped into the parking lot, an eerie feeling slicked down my spine. Whirling, I looked back into the store. There wasn’t anyone there. Well, no one who appeared out of the ordinary. Twisting forward, my gut clenched when I saw him. Brandon stood near the back of the lot, leaning against his gray convertible. He raised one hand in greeting and then got back in his car and drove away.

With my eyes locked on his car as it turned out of the lot, I pulled out my phone and sprinted to my car. Once safely inside, I locked my doors, started my engine, and put my car in reverse. I held my foot on the brake while I unlocked my phone to text Stella. I wanted to call Kayson but had no clue where he was.

Fuck.

Me: I just saw Brandon while I was out shopping.

Stella: What did he say?

Me: Nothing. He just stood watching me.

Stella: Freaky.

Me: I know, right?

Stella: Want to talk about it?

Me: Yes.

Stella: Come over. Want me to call any of the girls?

Me: Sure.

Stella lived in an area of Orlando called Metro West. It was the “it” place to live at one time. Originally, it was a planned community for dinks, dual-income-no-kids sort of people, but grew into a place for mid-upper class families. Stella owned a townhouse in the older part. I didn’t even waste time to look at the vacant home next to hers. I was too focused on getting inside where I felt secure. I walked up to Stella’s door and knocked.

Several people shouted, “Come on in, door’s open.”

“Red or white?” Stella asked the second I rounded the corner to the kitchen.

I laughed. It was barely noon, and my posse, the Iron Orchids, had rallied together.

“I have beer as well.”

“Just tea or water would be great,” I replied.

“White it is.” Stella handed me a glass and a plate with pizza on it. “From your text, it sounded like you needed the F’s.”

“F’s?”

“Food, friends, and fucking. I could help with two. So, here you go.” Stella waved her arm out to the group. “Now, talk.”

“Where do I start?” I didn’t know, so I jumped in with the shit I hadn’t told anyone.

“Brandon was hiding in the vestibule to my apartment complex the other night and jumped out to propose to me.”

“He what?” Stella asked. “No way. Did he have a ring? What would make that crazy motherfucker think that you’d say yes? You didn’t say yes, did you?”

I rolled my eyes at the fact she would even ask such a ridiculous question. But I could tell she was trying to break the stress. When Stella was stressed, her face resembled Bubba Gump, with her lower jaw protruding with each tidbit of information I revealed.

“No clue what would make him ask. But yes, he had a ring. If I had to guess, I would say it was from Cartier with the red velvet box.” I took a deep breath, counted to ten, and steeled myself for the next part. “That was the same night my apartment was broken into. Piper found one of those bugs that people plant to listen in on conversations. So, I’m staying with Kayson at his house.” Things seemed to spiral downhill after that. “I’m sorry, I must sound like some old country song. I just need the dog and the doublewide trailer to make it complete, huh? I’m sorry. I’m not myself. I’m freaked. Someone is trying to scare me and doing a fucking fantastic job. What should I do?”

“You mean, what should we do,” said Stella. “First, have you spoken to Kayson today?”

“No,” I answered. “I can’t reach him, tried all morning.”

“I need to figure out what to do about Brandon. He’s up to something, and he’s scaring the daylights out of me. I think the man is seriously losing it. He’s showing up everywhere, the hospital, twice now at restaurants, then today.”

“I think he has a God complex, he thinks he’s untouchable,” Stella added. “You need to protect yourself. Ohhh, I’ve got it. We need to find a way to track his ass and see what he’s up to.” Stella opened her laptop, handed Everly a notepad, and then started typing. “Make a list.”

We compiled a list of possible scenarios where Brandon might corner me.

Favorite restaurants.

Stores that he knows I like to visit.

Mutual friends—that was immediately nixed since there were none.

Everly drew a line down the paper and made a second column of places where we might find Brandon.

His office.

The sheriff station.

Outside my apartment.

And finally, Stella wanted to create a list of ways to track someone without getting caught.

Leo offered up search phrases such as “How to catch a cheating spouse” because there were bound to be hundreds of ideas listed.

Throwing my hands up in the air, I decided that it was probably best to shut up and just play monitor and only interrupt when it got ridiculous, which was that second. “No. Revolver? Have you gone crazy?”

“If you are going to get a gun, this site says to get a revolver. They’re less likely to jam, and revolvers don’t leave any bullet casings for evidence.”

“For once the internet isn’t wrong. You really should get a concealed carry license, though. I have mine and Piper can take us to the range,” Leo said as if I were just going to bust a cap in someone’s ass.

A part of me was frightened about where the conversation was headed and the other part was laughing at my reference to the movie Another 48 Hrs. I had to intervene. “Stella, are you listening to yourself? You’re talking as though we’re gonna shoot up something.”

“Or someone,” Stella interjected. “Just saying. If it means saving your life, I’ll buy you the gun myself.”

“Try searching how to stalk like a PI,” Everly interjected.

Really? She was joining in. Great. I read over Everly’s shoulder as she added binoculars, tactical flashlight, pepper spray, Taser, GPS tracker, and revolver to the list.

“I think we each should pick up one of these items for Ariel,” Everly mused, tapping her pen against the notepad. “This way, we don’t alert the Feds by sending everything to one address.”

“We aren’t buying pallets of fertilizer and alarm clocks. I think we’re safe,” I said as I tried to keep from chuckling.

“We are working to keep you safe and figure out who is after you. This is nothing to laugh at,” Stella defended. “Let’s order this stuff and plan for next Saturday. The guys are gone to the Monster Jam Trucks.”

We had just marked Saturday on our calendars when Stella’s front door slammed open and shut.

“Fuck me!” Piper shouted as she came in. “Turn on the fucking television.”

We all stared at Piper as Stella moved and flipped to channel nine to find a reporter standing in front of the sheriff’s station. “Orange County Sheriff’s Department has declined comment on the current allegations.” Clearly, we were catching the very end of the segment, because the screen cut to a still picture of . . .

“That’s Kayson,” Stella said as she grabbed my hand.

“Our inside sources say that Deputy Christakos, who has also declined comment, is currently under investigation for eliciting sexual favors from female drivers in exchange for not issuing tickets . . .” 

“Fuck that bitch,” Everly yelled at the television. “He can’t answer her, and she knows that. His department, our department, we all have an entire media team that handles communication with the press. She’s just trying to spin the public opinion.”

My head ached, but not from a headache, and I caught myself rubbing the spot between my eyebrows raw as my stomach turned into an empty pit and acid roiled up the back of my throat. I was going to lose it. The mere thought of Kayson having sex with strangers sent off a jealousy vibe racing through my body.

“Stop that.” Stella smacked my arm. “I’ve known him for about seven years, ever since Carter transferred to Orange County, and Kayson Christakos would not do something like that. There is no truth to these accusations.” She searched my eyes, wanting confirmation that I believed her, trusted Kayson.

Trust.

There was that fucking word.

I nodded.

Truthfully, I knew there was no way he would do that. Hell, I was willing to have sex before he was. I just couldn’t stop thinking about how I had wanted to believe the exact same thing about my dad. That everything I heard was nothing but an ugly rumor. I had been wrong then, but I trusted Stella to tell me the truth. I turned back to the television.

“In other news, Brandon Fagan with the district attorney’s office has announced that he will be holding a press conference to make a statement about Erskine Sello, who is being held without bond in the Orange County jail. As many of you know, Mr. Sello is standing trial for the murder of an off-duty sheriff sergeant earlier this year. This is Haley Loles with Channel Nine News. We return you now to our regularly scheduled program already in progress.”

“Motherfucker!” Stella shouted. “Way to fucking turn the fucking truth. Why not tell the public what really happened? The off-duty sergeant was walking out to his car when that fuckwad shot him. Vivian’s husband had no choice but to shoot back and try to defend himself as well as the people around him. But when Deputy Haines fell, Sello came up from behind and shot him six more times point blank in the back.” Stella was irate, which was completely expected.

“Funny how she didn’t mention that he also shot another officer, drove over a third, and then murdered his girlfriend and their daughter,” Everly added.

My head was ringing, and my friends’ words seemed to fade away. All of those dreadful images flashed in front of my eyes.

God, thank you for keeping Kayson safe. Thank God that wasn’t him.

My hand flew to my mouth. I was such a horrid person, people were grieving, and I was thanking God that Kayson wasn’t killed by Sello. What if Kayson wasn’t at the mall on Mother’s Day weekend, what if he didn’t walk out at that precise moment? What if he hadn’t been at that fundraiser event at Harley, and what if I didn’t have him to text when I heard someone breaking into my apartment?

“I need to head home.” I had to be there for Kayson.

Thank God I had Kayson to rush home to. Home, Kayson’s home, my home. I rushed out of Stella’s house, promising to see everyone on Saturday.

I grabbed my phone, which I had left sitting in my passenger’s seat, and cursed under my breath. Eight missed calls, shit, shit, shit.

Swiping my phone, I dialed Kayson, and he answered immediately.

“Please tell me that you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. I was at Stella’s and didn’t realize that I’d dropped my phone out of my purse. It’s been in my car this whole time.”

“Where are you now?”

“On my way home.”

“Drive safe. See you soon.”

Pulling into the driveway, I pressed the garage door opener, the one Kayson had put in my car so that I could park next to his truck. For a brief second, I was afraid. He’d arranged himself in the perfect position to take up the entire doorway that led from the garage to the house.

“Hi.” I asked as I came to a stop in front of him. I didn’t know if he was mad or scared. But he looked as if he was trying to hold his emotions together. “Kayson what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? Ariel, I’ve been scared to death about you. It is almost seven o’clock. It’s only been a week since your apartment was broken into. Ariel, I told you, all I needed was for you to allow me to protect you. You denied me that. Don’t you get it?”

“What? What do you want me to say? I woke up, I couldn’t reach you, so I ran some errands. Then Brandon showed up. I freaked and went to Stella’s. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drop my phone in my car, it was an accident.”

“Whoa, wait a minute. What do you mean Brandon showed up? Here?”

“No. While I was at the fabric store.”

“What did he say? Tell me exactly.” Kayson shoved his hands through his hair as he pulled me inside and closed the garage door.

“Nothing, which is why I was scared. He just watched me.”

“I’m going to kill him. I’ve had it. Brandon’s behind all of this bullshit, all this crap with my job. I’m going to nail his ass to a wall. What time did you see him?”

“I don’t know.” I opened my phone and looked at my text messages. “I texted Stella at noon. So, that was when I saw him. I contacted her immediately.”

“Not me?”

“I had tried you several times by then. I thought you were busy. Or . . .”

“Or? Or what Ariel?”

“Or that was your way of telling me you were done.”

Kayson let out a sigh that sounded more like a growl. “None of this would have happened had you stayed here like I asked, I told you something was up this morning.”

“When did you say that?”

“In the note I left.”

“What note? There wasn’t a note.”

“Oh yes, ma’am, there was. Same place I left it last time. On the counter, so you had to see it when you went into the kitchen.”

“I looked, and there wasn’t a note.”

He walked over to grab the letter and show me, but I was right, there wasn’t a note. He moved around to the other side, and then I saw it still on the notepad sitting next to the coffee maker.

“You obviously didn’t make coffee, either.” He held up the pad and showed me. “I was so furious about having to go to the station, I knew that Brandon was up to something, I must have left it there when I made my coffee.” He handed me the letter. “I need to go for a walk. I’m pissed. I don’t want to say something in anger that I’d regret later. You fucking freaked me out when I couldn’t find you. We just had a fabulous weekend, and you’d jump to that conclusion that I was done with you?” He headed out the garage door and slammed it so hard the keys that hung on the wall rattled.

I held the note and read.

A,

Thank you for a fabulous weekend, I hate leaving you, even for work. Especially knowing that you’re upstairs in my bed, naked, and exactly where you’re meant to be. Don’t go anywhere, please. I worry about you. I have a feeling that Brandon is up to something, got a call to report to the station instead of patrol this morning, will let you know.

Love,

K

I traced the words he’d written but only really focused on one: love. Was he falling in love with me or was that just an accident? Something he wrote out of habit?

I didn’t know, but something about those four little letters warmed me. It also made me feel like a complete jerk for thinking that he would want me gone. He was right. We had had an amazing weekend together, and in one sentence, I ruined it.

I walked into the kitchen and searched the pantry and freezer for something to cook. I needed comfort food. I pulled out a wrapped package of frozen tilapia, grabbed the cornmeal, flour, salt, pepper, and a few potatoes. Fried fish, home fries, and hushpuppies.

I was so horrid at this relationship thing—wait, were we in a relationship? Half the world’s population were men and I’d been judging them all based on the few I had known up to this point. It wasn’t exactly as if I were an expert.

Was Kayson telling me that he was in love with me? Holy shit, the “L” word, it hadn’t quite been a month.

I heard the door open about forty-five minutes later and saw Kayson coming in, but I was in the zone. I had the fish defrosted, hushpuppy batter mixed, potatoes grated, and I had gone through the five stages of Ariel resolution.

Feeling hurt.

Jumping to conclusions.

Feeling guilty.

Second-guessing my decisions.

Promising to be a better person.

Of course, that last stage came with sucking up and making a Southern-style home-cooked meal, sans black-eyed peas because I didn’t have time to go to the grocery story.

“Want a beer?” I asked with a hesitant smile.

“I’ll get it. What’re you cooking?” He removed his shoes and set them by the door.

“Southern cuisine, also known as comfort food.”

“And do I get Southern cuisine for dessert as well?” Kayson’s question was full of playful innuendo. Obviously, he had gone through his own transformation from anger to acceptance to let’s start over while on his walk. I liked that we worked through this misunderstanding without bloodshed.

Setting out two plates, Kayson and I served ourselves and carried our plates to the table. “Want to talk about today?” I still felt guilty that I had brought the wrath of Brandon down on him.

“The DA’s office is causing a lot of shit right now and making accusations, I think that IA is on my side, they know that this is all being made up,” Kayson said, trying to comfort me even though he was the one going through all the bullshit.

“You know I don’t think for one second that any of those accusations are true, right?” I waited until I knew that he believed me, because they were truthful. “How did the media get involved?”

“Anonymous tip, I’m assuming.” Kayson raised a corner of his mouth. He and I both could guess who the anonymous person was. “But it goes beyond that. It seems that people are calling into the internal affairs office and filing complaints there as well.”

“I’m so sorry. Brandon’s upset that I dumped him months ago. I think somewhere in his distorted mind he thought that I’d come crawling back. He’s pissed that I chose you.”

“Did you?”

“Yes, I dumped him. He couldn’t keep it in his pants. We only dated a few months, and I never even considered calling him again. He’s jealous that we”—I pointed back and forth between us—“have been inseparable since the Harley event.”

“No. I mean did you choose me?” Kayson titled his head and raised one brow, waiting for my answer.

Shoving an entire hushpuppy in my mouth, I mumbled, “Can’t talk.”

“Ha-ha, you’re a nut. Stop blaming yourself for Brandon’s actions. You aren’t making him do these things to me. I believe whoever is in your life—friend or boyfriend—will have issues as long as Brandon isn’t getting his way.”

“Did I tell you that when Stella, Piper, and I went shopping we ran into him?”

“You didn’t.”

“Yup. He was insulting toward them. Rude. Like, he couldn’t believe that I’d made friends.” I took a swig of sweet tea and swallowed before I continued, “Why didn’t you tell me about all of this going on with the DA?” I asked.

“Truthfully, I didn’t know there was a connection between you two until the other night at your apartment. I just thought he was an asshole that developed a sudden distaste for Greek food,” Kayson said, trying to make me smile.

“Do we know or have you heard when Brandon is planning the conference for?”

“Tomorrow. It’s going to be a long day with crowd control.” Kayson stood and grabbed our plates. “Sit. You cooked, I’ll clean.”

I watched as he moved into the kitchen and opened the dishwasher. I followed behind him and started wrapping leftovers and placing them in the refrigerator. Every time I turned around, I wondered if I would ever be enough for this man.

When the kitchen was clean, Kayson wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me into his living room. We snuggled on the couch with me lying in front of him as he flicked through stations. When he hit a preseason football game, he paused.

“Like football?” he asked.

“Love it.”

His arms tightened around me, and we watched the Packers second string get their asses beat by the Bears second string.

I was a football spiraling through the air.

Wait.

That didn’t make sense.

Kayson was carrying me upstairs to bed.