“You’re still in your pajamas?” Jess asks, stepping into my apartment. “And you’re day drinking?”

“I’ve decided to fully embrace this author thing.” I shut and lock the door behind her. “Don’t judge.”

She takes her shoes off and tosses her coat on the couch. The foyer in my apartment is nothing more than a two by two square of laminate flooring in front of the door. The living room is immediately after, and the kitchen/dining combo is squished up against that. The place is small and old, and all I could afford at the time.

“I’m not judging. I’m jealous. Wanna know how my day went?”

I grab another wine glass for Jess and sit on the couch next to her. “Tell me when.” I fill her glass to the brim with wine.

She takes a long drink. “My day started with a kid drinking out of the class rabbit’s water bottle. And ended with another telling me that his brother shares his ‘beer and nudie magazines’ with him. That was a fun phone call to make.”

“I do not envy you. How’s the kid that poops his pants all the time?”

“We’ve gone thirteen days with no poop.”

“School days?”

“I wish. Total days. I don’t know why I took this job.”

“Because you went to school to be a teacher?”

She takes another drink. “Oh, right. I don’t know why I did that either.”

I laugh. “You’re a great teacher, and you’re doing a great thing. You know that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, waving her hand in the air. “I’m shaping the future, one first-grader at a time. Days like today make me glad I work in Salt Creek and have a small class size. Anyway, how was New York? Your texts have not been satisfactory, by the way. I want more details.”

“I loved it! There’s so much going on and there are people everywhere. It’s a constant buzz and energy flow yet at the same time there are places to go where everything is still. It’s beautiful and chaotic and I actually miss it already. And I think I’m dating Cole.”

Jess raises an eyebrow. “You think you’re dating him?”

“I’m not really sure. We spent a lot of time together after that initial hookup, but nothing was said, so I don’t know. I’m going back Friday.”

Her eyes widen. “To see him?”

I take the pineapple charm from my neck between two fingers and give it a tug. The only reason I said I’d fly all the way to a release party for a series I haven’t read yet is to see him again.

“Kind of. There’s a big release party and he said it would be fun if I went. And I could meet some more authors. The publicist there says it’s a good idea to be friends with other authors.”

Jess looks at me for a few seconds, and then takes another gulp of wine. “So, you’re sleeping with your editor, nothing has been established between you, and he invited you back this weekend for a “release party”, right? Where are you staying?”

“His place.”

“You’re either dating or you’re a booty call. An out-of-town booty call.”

I put my head in my hands. “I don’t know. Though when you say it like that, it sounds like that’s what it is.”

“Is that a bad thing? It’s a bit—”

“Sleazy?”

“I was going to say exciting. But really, what do you want out of this?”

I sit up, grab my wine, and lean back. I look at my best friend. Deciding I need more alcohol in my system before I answer, I take a few swallows of wine and then a deep breath, like I’m about to trek out in some sort of dangerous territory.

When it comes to matters of the heart, the road is always rough.

“I like him enough to want to be together,” I confess for the first time. Both out loud and to myself. “I really like him and yeah…I’d like to date him. The sex was great, but it was more than that, and I know it’s probably stupid to think that, right? I mean, we haven’t known each other long and—”

“Ana, stop. You like him. Don’t try to convince yourself otherwise.”

I nod, because that’s exactly what I’m doing. “Do you think it’s too soon for me to be looking for someone to date, though?”

“No. You’ve been single for a year. And I really don’t think you can put a timeframe on love. Or even lust. You just happen to feel it or you don’t. I can’t think of a legitimate ‘bad time’ for having feelings for another person. Well, I suppose besides if you were in another relationship and were cheating, but that’s not the point. The point is, you like this guy and you should do something about it.”

I almost spit out my wine. “Me? Make a move? Pssshhh. You’re not serious, right?” I laugh.

“I am, and I think you should. You’ve always been my gutsy, balls-to-the-wall best friend and I’m starting to get you back. If the roles were reversed and for some insane reason I decided I wanted to settle down, you’d tell me the same thing.”

My eyebrows push together in an exaggerated pout. “Dammit. You’re right. And I’ve felt more like myself the last few days than I have in a long time. Getting away, being with Cole…it was really nice. I even like his crazy family.”

“He introduced you to his family?”

“Just his brother. And then his sister-in-law, Lexi, who was my first editor. Oh, and his nieces. Lexi’s kids.” I take another big drink of wine and feel the alcohol start to hit me. Sometimes it’s embarrassing being such a lightweight. Other times it’s nice because I can drink less and still feel the welcome effects of a small glass of wine. “And oh my fucking God. His brother is a hottie. I shouldn’t say that because he’s Lexi’s husband, but seriously, those Winchester boys are unreal.” I shake my head and sip on my wine. Along with being a lightweight, I tend to drink rather quickly. Paired together, shit can hit the fan quite easily if I’m not careful.

“I do love hot brothers. Maybe one night you could—”

“No. Lexi’s husband, remember? They have kids and everything.”

“Maybe she’ll be into it.”

“How does that even work with four people? Wait. I don’t want to know. Fuck. I do.” I grab my computer. “I’m going to regret Googling this in the morning.”

Jess laughs and scoots closer, drinking more of her wine. I poured my last bottle, and need to go grocery shopping. For more than just booze, of course. If I go to the store and get food, then I’m stuck here for a few days at least. I remember the creepy texts and don’t want to be alone. Fuck. I’ll be calling Mom once Jess leaves.

“That’s interesting,” Jess muses, tipping her head to the side. “And I am not sold on the double penetration thing. Looks painful to me.”

“Me too. And I’m not a fan of anal.”

“You might be if you did it with someone who knew what they were doing.”

“Nope,” I say with a shake of my head. “I’ve tried it and it feels like a reverse shit.”

Jess laughs. “Again, if your man knows what he’s doing, it can enhance your pleasure.”

I wrinkle my nose. “You will never convince me of that.”

“Maybe Cole can.”

“Nope. My backdoor is closed. And locked. And nailed shut for good measure. Oh, and has one of those metal bars across it, just to be safe,” I say, though I know if anyone can convince me of anything, it’s Cole.

“In all seriousness,” Jess starts. “What are you going to do?”

“Nothing,” I blurt, the result of being a bad liar and having drank a lot of wine on an empty stomach. “Yeah, I like him, but I don’t know if he feels the same. He’s so direct and knows what he wants…I just think if he wanted me, he’d have said something.”

“But you’re still going to have sex with him this weekend?”

“Maybe.”

Jess raises one blonde eyebrow incredulously. “You’re staying the weekend at his house and you think sex might not happen? Ana, you know I love you and will support whatever you do. And you know how much of a fan I am for celebrating female sexuality and fucking whoever, whenever you want. But I know you. You’re a romantic at heart and you won’t do well in this no-strings, booty-call kind of relationship.”

I shake my head, the words burning in my mouth. I used to be that girl. I used to believe in love and consider myself a hopeless romantic.

But I don’t anymore.

I opened my heart. Gave Steven everything I had. I thought he loved me. I thought I loved him.

“I don’t know, Jess. Maybe this is what I should do. Just have fun. Fill the void in what little ways I can. And really, the thought of being in a relationship again freaks me out a bit.”

“I don’t blame you there. After what you went through before, taking things slow is a good idea.” She polishes off her wine. “I don’t want you to get hurt,” she admits softly. “I’m just getting you back.” Tears fill her eyes and she puts her hand on mine. Jess knows everything. She’s the only one who does. I told the therapist what he needed to know to treat me, and my family knows minimal details. But Jess…I’ve never been able to keep anything from that girl.

“I don’t want to get hurt either. Which is why I’m just going to go at this the, uh…what did you call it—exciting?—yeah, the exciting way. I like sex. Cole is a fucking sex god. The two go hand in hand.”

“As long as you’re clear on that. To yourself, I mean.”

“I am.” I take another drink, silencing the urge to tell Jess that she doesn’t have to worry. I’m not going to entertain the thought of a future with Cole because I don’t believe I’ll have a future with anyone. I just don’t see how it could work. I don’t see how I can trust anyone enough for me to take those vows, to want to spend forever with.

Don’t get me wrong. I want to believe in love as much as Fox Mulder wants to believe in aliens. I thought I had it, thought I’d been beamed up onto the mothership and was flying high in the galaxy.

And then it came crashing down. I got hurt. The whole abduction had been a sham, and I was left stupid for believing it was real in the first place.

I trade my wineglass for my phone, checking for missed texts just in case I missed one. Cole and I have been texting throughout the day, and his last text came through not long before Jess arrived.

Right as I open my texts—there’s nothing new—someone knocks on the door. My stomach lurches and my heart immediately beats a little faster. I close my eyes and let out a breath, doing my best to calm myself. I hate that I still panic. When will that automatic reaction go away?

“Expecting someone?” Jess’s voice is tight. The reaction hasn’t left her either.

“No,” I say with a shake of my head. I get up, wish I had one of my mother’s German Shepherds with me, and edge to the door. I locked it as soon as Jess came in. Not knowing who’s standing on the other side of the thin piece of wood separating us brings chills over me.

Get a fucking grip. All I have to do is look through the peephole and not think what could go wrong.

Steven is standing there, alone.

He’s standing there with my mother or sister, using them as bait.

He’s standing there with a gun pointed at the little round glass, waiting to pull the trigger.

I close my eyes. Fingers twitching. Hands shaking. The springs in the couch groan as Jess gets up, falling in step behind me. Having her there helps, and I take another step. In the back of my mind, I know how ridiculous it is to feel this much fear and anxiety over walking to the fucking door.

But Steven is there too. He’ll always be there, taking up space and refusing to let me move on.

Slowly, I lean my face in toward the peephole. A woman is standing a few feet back from the door, holding a vase of red roses.

“It looks like a flower delivery.”

“From Cole?”

I shake my head, biting the inside of my cheek. “I never gave him my address. Though I suppose he’d be able to get it from the Press.”

“It’s totally from him.”

“No,” I say and step back to unlock the door. I mentioned it in passing, but I know Cole was paying attention. Red roses are too traditional. They’re expensive, but thoughtless. Easy. Sending me red roses would almost be an insult because I’m weird like that. I position my feet in front of the door so that it’ll only open a few inches.

“Diana Ventimiglia?” the delivery woman asks, fumbling with my last name.

“Yes.”

“These are for you.”

“Who are they from?”

“There’s no name on the card,” she tells me. “And I just deliver the orders.”

Jess comes up next to me and takes the flowers. I shut and lock the door the moment I can, and go into the kitchen to look at the roses. Jess is holding the little white card that’s stuck in with the buds, and her face is pale.

“What does it say?” I ask. Jess looks up, tight-lipped. “Jess?”

She shivers and reads out loud, “Welcome home.”

* * *

Water runs down my wet hair, falling onto my feet and dripping to the hardwood floor. I unwrap my towel from my body, flip my head upside down, and dry my hair. It’s a little after eight PM, and I just got out of the shower at my mom’s.

My heart hasn’t stopped racing.

The lump of vomit is still sitting in my throat, threatening to come up.

Steven is watching me, and there isn’t a fucking thing I can do about it. Sending flowers isn’t criminal. I know the intentions are to creep me out, but I can’t prove that.

Cole called me on my way to my mom’s, but Jess was in the car with me and I knew I wouldn’t be able to talk to him and act like everything is okay. We’re not dating, so there is no need to open up the dark can of worms that is my past. Plus, knowing I have a stalker ex-boyfriend isn’t exactly the thing you want to hear from your booty call. If that’s what I am to him, I mean.

I get dressed and sink down onto the small, twin bed. I’m safe here. The alarm system is armed. Mom’s three dogs are sleeping at the top of the stairs, and we own several guns. As do the neighbors across the street. And next door. Pretty much everyone who lives in Salt Creek owns a gun, actually. Steven isn’t allowed to own firearms anymore, but that doesn’t mean he’ll abide by that law.

As much as I hated growing up in a small town where everyone knows everything about each other, it is nice knowing the entire population of Salt Creek knows Steven is unwelcome here.

I open my computer, see the battery is at three percent, and get up to find the power cord. My phone dings from a text, and my heart stops again.

“Fuck you, Steven,” I say through gritted teeth. Then I shake my head. I’m not going to play the blame game. I’m not going to assign faults to my fears. Yes, it’s because of his psychotic obsession with me that I’ve become a shut-in basket case, but blaming him, saying it’s all his fault, gives him control.

I’m scared, but I choose to keep going. I’m not going to sit here and put time and energy into hating him. That’s what he wants. He’s like a vampire, but far from the tall, dark, and brooding kind. No, Steven just takes and takes and takes until there is nothing left.

A smile comes to my face when I see Cole’s name on my phone screen. My heart stops racing. The nerves settle back into place. I unlock my phone to read his text.

Cole: I rewrote your author bio and emailed it to you. Let me know what you think.

His text was all business? I can’t help but be a little disappointed. Though I am the one who didn’t call back. I open my email, finding Cole’s at the top and start reading.

Scarlett Levine is a hot-as-hell romance author who can act out her sex scenes even better than she can write them. When she’s not busy writing, Scarlett can be found charming the pants off her editor, making him miss deadlines at work because she’s constantly on his mind, and making him miss her like crazy even though it’s only been a day since she last saw him. Outside of writing, Scarlet has a love affair with all things pineapple, drinks her coffee black, prefers a spontaneous night on the town over a fancy dinner date, and has an affinity for the paranormal. She’s not afraid to admit that cats rule and dogs drool (though she’s sure she’ll get hate mail for it) and has a deep love for comic book heroes. She’s both fucking adorable and incredibly sexy, which is a rare combination and probably why said editor cannot stop thinking about her. Her green eyes are like two emeralds in sunlight, and are easy to get lost in. Scarlett’s debut novel All I Need is one of the most anticipated reads coming from Black Ink Press this year.

I smile, read the email again, then text Cole back.

Me: Looks great. Should I forward it to my agent now? ;-)

Cole: Better add an author photo.

Me: Is this your way of asking for a nude?

Cole: If you’re willing to send one, then yes. I’ll need to approve it before your agent sees it, after all.

I laugh and lay back on the bed, fanning my wet hair over the pillow. The ends are half an inch away from Thor’s paws. He glares at me and extends his claws, trying to take up that extra half an inch and act like my hair is in his way.

“Oh, please,” I tell him. “If only you knew the shit I put up with from you.”

I smile and look back at my phone, closing my texts so I can read the email again. There’s no doubt that he’s flirting with me. But it was also sweet. My smile grows and I read the email for the third time.

“Dammit,” I mumble, looking at Thor. “He’s doing what I didn’t think could be done, and this is bad. Very bad.”

Thor blinks at me and yawns. He stretches, catching his claws in my hair. He pulls it in and starts to chew on the ends.

“Seriously?” I sit up, pulling my hair over my shoulder. “Aren’t you going to ask me what I’m talking about?”

Thor starts licking himself, ignoring me. Typical.

“It’s bad,” I repeat, my flare for drama showing. The damn cat is never going to care. I pick up the phone again, and see that Cole is typing. My heart skips a beat and there’s no way I can downplay this. I swore off love, and said I stopped believing in it. But did I really?

It’s safer this way. My heart can’t break when it’s safe inside my chest. It took me a long time to pick up the shattered pieces after Steven destroyed me, and even longer to put them together, piece by broken piece, but I did it. By some fucking miracle, I did it.

I know I won’t be able to do it again.

If my heart breaks, there’s no putting it back together.

I like being happy. I miss being carefree. I know I won’t survive another heartbreak.

So, I swore off love. Convinced myself that I didn’t want it. That it wasn’t even real. That it never ends happily. Most of the time, it doesn’t.

But sometimes it does.

It’s not a risk worth taking. Not when the fall will leave me broken on the floor. But when I think of Cole…for some reason I want to take the leap.

I want to fall in love with him. Slowly. Tenderly. The way it’s supposed to be. The way it should be. Naturally. Passionately.

Falling will be easy.

But the landing…I can’t do it alone, and that scares me more than anything.