It’s been a week since Wyatt said he loved me. It was the best and worst moment of my life. On one hand, hearing how he felt made my heart flutter and a billion butterflies dance in my stomach. On the other hand, it made me want to run to the furthest island in the middle of nowhere and hide out.

He wants to know what happened with Danny, the one thing I never, ever want him to know about. How will he look at me if I were to tell him? Would he still be in love or run for the hills?

We haven’t really had a chance to connect because of his new case. In addition, I’ve been spending all my time running the center and driving Carlos around making sure he’s never near the ‘Street Creeps.’ Decker was able to prevent the gang from loitering around the school and from having contact with the kids as they come and go from school. But that’s just a Band-Aid. Decker warned me that if they want Carlos bad enough they will figure out a way and get him alone.

I know I should have told Wyatt about the gang by now. But it never seemed to be the right time. I was always too busy looking into his eyes. And he’d go crazy if he found out, so what would be the point?

He’s waiting for me to tell him about Danny and me. Although he hasn’t brought it up again, it’s always in the air with us. It’s like the big fat “ex-boyfriend” elephant we keep walking past. He’s trying, he really is. He’ll kiss me and take my breath away but only for a few seconds, fearing he’ll lose control.

He may not believe this but he’s not the only one who wants to make love. When I think about what his large hands would feel like as they cup my breasts, it makes me dizzy with anticipation. When he spends the night, just holding me, I can feel his erection behind me, expanding, growing hard as stone. I start to pant without even realizing it. And I swear to heaven I would give up a kidney if it meant I could flick my tongue across his washboard abs.

“Can you come back into this room, please?” Jana asks as she stirs her coffee.

“I drifted, sorry,” I reply.

“So, I take it you still haven’t told him about Danny and he still hasn’t ruined you?” she says.

“Is that what sex does? Ruin you?” I ask with smile.

“If you’re lucky,” she says. “Winter, just tell him.”

“And then what? What will he think of me?”

“He’ll know that you dated an awful guy and that he’s a step up,” she declares.

“Maybe…”

“There’s no maybe about it, Winnie. He went out of his way to be honest and admit that he loves you and you know men hate that shit. They run far and fast. So far, all he’s done is bust his ever-so-pretty ass to make you feel loved and wanted. So, show him a little of that back. Tell him about the gang and about Danny. Now, I know that last part is harder and every time I think about what that asswipe did, I want burn his fucking face off. But it happened. And you are moving on, if you allow yourself. Now, no more adulting Which tattoo should I get?” she says as she places a tattoo magazine before me.

After helping Jana find her “spirit animal,” which turns out to be a panther, I take Carlos back to the group home. On my way back, I get a call from one of the panel members of the art class I submitted Carlos to and she tells me he got in. I scream so loud, I startle the diver in the lane next to me. I turn my car around and head back to the group home. When I tell him about the art class and getting accepted, he’s genuinely taken aback.

“Ms. Bennett, why are you doing all of this for me?” he says.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m nobody. I’m not even worth it.”

I march over to him and look him in the eye. “Carlos, there is no one else like you anywhere on this earth. You drive me crazy but I am happy to do whatever it takes to help you because you’re special. If you don’t see that, sweetie, no one else will. You are worth it. And anyone that tells you otherwise should come see me and I will set them straight. You got that?” I order.

He laughs. “Yeah, Ms. Bennett. I got it.” I hug him long and hard. My little artist. I close my eyes and thank God he’s going away until Thanksgiving. It makes me feel so good to walk to my car and turn back and see Carlos is still glowing.

There is no one I want to share my news with more than Wyatt. I’ve been making him crazy checking my cell all the time and moaning about the long wait. And now, I finally have some good news to share with him. And to be honest, we could use some good news right about now. So, as soon as I get home, I shower and pick out my tightest jeans and high heel boots. I put on a little makeup and I’m out the door. I feel good. Who knows, maybe tonight we’ll get past all the drama and just be with each other.

Yeah, maybe tonight is “Winter’s hang-up-free night.” Maybe he doesn’t have to kiss me because I’ll kiss him first and do some over the sweater stuff. Yum…

I step out of the Lyft and onto the cold sidewalk. I can’t wait to get inside and have Wyatt warm me up. I look up towards his building just in time to see Wyatt with his arm around another woman, walking her up the steps to his home.

My heart is breaking. No, seriously, I think it’s actually breaking in two. I can’t seem to catch my breath. The harder I try the worse it gets. I look around for somewhere to run. There’s a bar across the street, and I run there as fast as I can. I will get warm there. I will put my heart back together and I won’t hurt anymore.

Don’t run to a bar. Call Jana. Talk to someone.

No! Bar! Now!

***

 

 

Someone is pounding on my damn door like they are ready to blow it off its hinges. I march to the entrance, not sure what to expect. The person pounds again. What the fuck? I open the door and find Winter standing there, drunk off her ass. Her eyes are red, she reeks of tequila, and she needs to lean on the wall in order to stay upright. Fuck.

“Winter, what are you—”

“Where is she?!” she shouts in a drink induced slur. Before I have a chance to reply, she storms past me and into my apartment.

“Where’s who?” I ask as I follow her. She turns towards me with eyes puffy from crying and her face red with anger.

“You know who I’m talking about! Where’s that bitch? I know she’s here.”

“There’s no one here.”

“LIAR!” Winter says as she stomps into the closest room and busts the door wide. “Ah-ha!” she shouts at the empty room. I lower my head and pinch the bridge of my nose with my thumb and index finger. My lips twitch in frustration, I exhale deeply, and I look up towards the sky. I beg whomever the fuck is up there to give me an extra helping of patience with this woman.

“I know she’s here somewhere. You know how I know?” she demands.

“Winter, you need to come over here and sit down. Okay?” I reply as I guide her towards the sofa in the living room. She pushes my hand away or at least she tries to. She doesn’t have the strength to fight back but she keeps trying.

“Get off of me! I know she’s here. Where is she?” she asks, looking around as if she could have missed an entire person standing in front of her.

“There’s no one here. Sit down, Winter.”

“Then she was here before and she’s gone now. But she was here,” she insists as we make our way down to the sofa.

“Tell me!” she snaps.

“Winter, there’s no one here.” I plead as I try to get her to sit down.

“You think you had me fooled? Acting like a nice guy? Well I wasn’t fooled! And you know what, yeah, you’re hot and gorgeous but guess what? YOU’RE NOT PERFECT! ONE OF YOUR EYE LASHES IS LONGER THAN THE OTHER. SO HA!”

“Winter, you need take a seat so I can make you some coffee.”

“All of you men are liars! You all lie and cheat and break hearts for fun. But I am not stupid. I knew you couldn’t be real! I knew it! I knew it,” she yells.

“Baby, please come sit down,” I beg.

“No! I don’t want to sit down. Get off me!” She wrestles so hard, I fear she’ll hurt herself. I have no choice but to hold her from behind. I apply enough strengthen to keep her from running away but not so much that it hurts her. She wiggles and tries everything in her powers to get out of my hold but it does no good. Finally, after what seem like forever, she goes limp and sobs in my arms.

“Did you fuck her?” she asks in a broken whisper.

“No, baby.”

“Please don’t lie to me. Okay, you can tell me if you fucked her. I can take it, but don’t lie to me. Please, okay? I can’t…I can’t take another lair. I don’t think I will survive if you’re like him. Please. Please don’t be like him…” She begins to cry and sounds very much like a wounded animal. I’ve never been a fan of women crying. It always angers me that someone did something to make them cry. But listening to my girl cry, that shit is killing me.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s gonna be okay,” I promise her. I finally get her to the sofa. But she gets up shortly after and runs to the bathroom to throw up. I follow her and she tells me not to come in, but no way I’m letting her go through this alone. I enter the bathroom and sit on the cold floor with her. She throws up three more times as I hold her hair back. I clean her up and put her in my bed. It’s nearly four in the morning by the time she drifts off to sleep. I wake her up just long enough to give her two low dose Ibuprofen and a bottle of water. After which, she goes right back to sleep.

***

I’m in the kitchen making breakfast when she enters, wearing the smallest grey tee shirt I have. She managed to run a comb though her hair and put it into a low ponytail. She looks small and pale. Her eyes are back to their original grey wonders, but now they are also filled with shame and embarrassment.

“Um…do you know where my clothes are?” she asks.

“Hi,” I reply warmly as I make my way to her. She steps back.

“I need my clothes,” she says in a whisper.

“No, what you need is to eat something.”

“No, I can’t stay. I have to go.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I have made a fool out of myself and I can’t be here right now.”

“You’re not the first person to drink too much.”

“It wasn’t just that and you know it.”

“Damn it, sit your difficult ass in that chair and let me take care of you. I get that you are not used to being looked after but you better get used to it because I’m not ready to stop.”

I go back to the stove and tend to the eggs while the bacon is frying. Once she sits down at the counter, I pour her a strong cup of coffee. She adds sugar and wraps her hands around the mug as she sips it.

“Wyatt, I’m so sorry about—”

“Baby, we’re not doing that right now, okay? Let’s just have a nice meal and watch mindless TV for the rest of the day.”

“I can’t. I have to work.”

“It’s Sunday, baby.”

“Oh, yeah. I still—”

“You have nothing that can’t wait. And the day is all but gone anyway.” She looks over at the clock on the wall above the stove. It’s nearly six in the evening.

“I slept all day?” she says in disbelief.

“You needed it, baby. That’s why I didn’t wake you.”

“Well, what about you, didn’t you have plans today?”

“If I did, they come second to us. Now, chocolate chip pancakes or banana?” I ask.

“You’re making breakfast in the middle of the night?”

“Listen ‘Candy Corn,’ breakfast is good any time of day.”

“Okay, fair enough.” She laughs. “I’ll take…both,” she says as she as I hand her the stack of pancakes. “Where are the plates?” she asks.

“Just above your head,” I reply. She takes out dishes for both of us and soon breakfast is a team activity. In the beginning it was little awkward because she still had doubts about what she saw. So before we dig in, I turn on the small seven-inch screen on the counter.

“What’s this?” she asks.

“Watch.”

Soon the screen turns on and we see people walking by and cars heading down the street. I tell her it’s a live feed and that it’s always recording, given the line of work I’m in. She watches on the monitor as I pull up and take the woman upstairs. We come back down about three minutes later, at which point she tearfully thanks me and get into the cab I hailed for her.

“I don’t understand,” she says.

“She gave us a lead on our current case. It was a really good one, but it could get traced back to her. So, she’s skipping town. I didn’t want her to go empty-handed and there’s too much red tape with stuff like this. It would have taken too much time if we went through the proper channels. So, I gave her a few bucks because I didn’t want to risk her hanging around and getting hurt for helping us.”

“Why did she come up to your place?”

“The girl is scared for her life, why would I leave her alone in the car? And did you get a good look at her? She’s barely nineteen, what kind of guy do you take me for?”

“It just looked like…”

“Like I was screwing some random girl because you and I haven’t had sex yet?”

“Kind of,” she mumbles, looking at the floor. I place my hand under her chin and angle her face so that she’s making eye contact.

“God knows I’m ready to burst, but babe, I don’t want anyone but you. Just you. Now, c’mon, food’s getting cold.”

She tells me the news she came to share. I’m so glad for Carlos and for my girl. Now, she can stop worrying so much. We spend the next few hours going back and forth between stuffing ourselves and binge watching TV. Most of the time, we are doing both. We order Thai food, and she shares her egg rolls with me, which I’m told is an act of love unto itself.

I introduce her the creepy-ass TV show based on the Exorcist movie. It terrifies her and she loves every minute of it. She gets me into the animation about a bitter horse who is a has-been actor called Bojack Horsemen. We watch reality crime shows and she has a ton of questions that I’m happy to answer.

But somewhere along the way, I stop watching the screen and watch her instead. She’s lying on the sofa next to me with her knees up and her head on my lap. Watching her breasts rise and fall as she breathes is hypnotizing. The soft cotton shirt she’s wearing is so loose, it drapes near the opening and allows a partial view of bare breasts.

Her knees are slightly parted and I follow her exquisite legs I until the damn shirt obstructs my view. Just thinking about the space between her legs and how close I am to that space makes my fucking head spin. I try and focus on the screen again but then she scoots up further into my lap. She turns to her side, giving me a good view of my shirt cupping her ass. I feel her supple, warm breasts pressed against my thigh.

“Babe, what do have on—under the shirt?” I ask.

“Nothing.”

Christ.

I lie to myself in this moment. I tell myself that I can stroke her partially exposed thigh and stop there. It’s a lie. But it’s a lie I need to believe. I gently graze her thigh over and over again. Each stroke makes it harder and harder to stop. I venture under her shirt and feel my way up towards her bare breasts. She sighs with pleasure as I knead her mound between my nimble fingers. She looks up at me and there’s panic in her eyes.

Fuck! I have to stop. I can’t give her something she isn’t ready for. I growl in frustration. I should have known I couldn’t start something like this. How the hell did I plan to walk away from something so damn good?

I gently move her head so I can get up. She looks at me, confused. I can’t even explain while I’m so close to her. I have to walk across the room so I don’t grab her and fuck her like I want to—like I so desperately need to.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” she asks.

“I can’t do this. If I touch you, I won’t stop and—Christ, I can’t take it anymore!”

“You don’t have to, I’ll make some tea and I’ll tell you about me and Danny. You’re not the only one who’s tired of holding back…”