I find myself chasing the white rabbit, as curious as the young Alice from Alice in Wonderland, only to be transported to a world other than my own. I’m falling down a never-ending rabbit hole as Ethan forces me to forget all the beliefs I had about casual sex.

He has me second-guessing everything and doesn’t even know it.

My eyes flutter open, and I watch him, watching me ride him. As I scratch my nails down his chest and let out moans loud enough the whole neighborhood can hear, I realize I’ve actually become the sex-crazed woman in my book. My body is fully his, in every sense, and with each thrust, I crumble to dust with him. The orgasm rocks and shakes me so greatly that it can’t be measured on the Richter scale.

As I float back to reality, I topple on top of him. Ethan’s lips trace mine, and I know by the soft look on his face, that he’ll unravel at any moment. His heavy breaths in my ear combined with long, deep movements have my body screaming out in protest, but the problem is I want more of him, all of him. Knowing this will all end when I leave for Chicago, I try to memorize every inch of him. With my legs wrapped tightly around his hips, he grabs my ass and lifts me slightly, controlling every deep thrust, giving me everything he is.

“Harder,” I whisper sinking on him, wanting him to rip me in two, so half of me can stay here while the other half returns home.

Without hesitation, he does exactly that.

“Fuck,” Ethan pants. “Vada,” he says one last time before his body seizes and finally relaxes. We briefly stay like that, the closest two human beings can possibly be, and oddly enough, it’s comforting. Ethan gives me a long, needy kiss before pulling away.

Once we’ve cleaned up and caught our breaths, he crawls into bed and pulls me into his arms. The moment is so intimate that my heart does a quick flutter, which slightly confuses me. Why am I feeling like this is becoming more than just sex? I wrap my arm around his waist as his fingers draw circles on my bare skin. I try really hard to push the thoughts away, but it’s like my mind wants to convince me that this feels different. It feels right. But it can’t. As I rest my head on his chest with his arms wrapped tight around me, I’m fighting an internal battle that I’m not sure I’ll win.

It’s just sex. I try repeating it over and over, but my heart betrays me.

Swallowing hard, I look up into his honey-colored eyes, and smile. “I could get used to this, E,” I admit, honestly, putting my heart out on the line.

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them immediately. Ethan tenses and forces a smile, but I notice he’s uneasy. His eyes narrow, saying so much, but hiding secrets. I can’t tell if it’s anger or sadness or a combination of the both, and it confuses me. I want to pry and ask questions, but instead, I offer an apology. Saying anything at all was stupid, especially when he’s made it very clear that this is temporary and that he doesn’t do relationships. Honestly, I don’t know what I expected.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “That came out wrong,” is all I offer as an explanation. His heartbeat vibrates hard in his chest, and I feel like an idiot for saying those words aloud.

“Goodnight, Vada,” he whispers, leaning over and turning off the lamp next to the bed, then pulling me back into position. Ethan holds me tight as if he doesn’t want to let me go. I fall asleep in his arms, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart.

I roll over and reach for Ethan, only to wake up to an empty, cold bed. There’s nothing but crumpled sheets and a blanket where his body was just hours ago. Still half-asleep, I sit up and look around the room, hoping to see him here still. My clothes are exactly where I left them last night, but Ethan’s aren’t. I didn’t realize waking up alone after a night like that would leave me feeling so empty. Instantly, my mind goes to a negative place, but I try not to allow my insecurities to get the best of me.

After I stretch, I head for the shower hoping it will relax my muscles and mind. It feels as if I did gymnastics all night, but I guess in a roundabout way I did. My body is definitely not used to this.

The water somewhat calms me and does exactly what I want, but I can’t help but think about my past and all the bad relationships I’ve experienced over the years. Trying as hard as I can, I push those thoughts away while I dry off and get dressed.

Once I feel somewhat normal again, I work up the courage to head over to Ethan’s just to make sure everything is okay. I mean, I know this is purely physical, and I shouldn’t be concerned, but I am. Last night as we were falling asleep after I said what I was thinking, he immediately tensed up. It wasn’t the first time my honesty has ruined a good moment and knowing me, I’m sure it won’t be the last.

As I walk down the path that leads to his house, I see Henry coming at me at a full sprint.

“Shit. Go away, Henry!” I scream and run toward the back door, somehow making it in before he can attack me.

I look out the window of the back door, and he’s standing there, looking straight into my eyes.

“You’re an asshole,” I say to him as he pecks around, agitating me.

I suck in a deep breath, turn around, and listen. The house is quiet, but coffee has been brewed, and there are dishes in the sink. I close my eyes tight and open them before I decide to make my way up the stairs. For some reason, my heart is pounding hard in my chest. My adrenaline spikes as I reach the second floor.

“Ethan?” I whisper and wait. I don’t hear anything, so I walk to his room and open the door. The bed is perfectly made, so I doubt he came back and went to sleep. Just as I’m turning to walk up the second set of stairs that lead to the tower, I notice the door I’ve never gone through is partially open. I’ve been in the bathroom, guestroom, and bedroom, so this room has me intrigued. Knowing I should walk past it and respect his privacy, curiosity gets the best of me. Instead, I stop, place my fingers around the wooden door and slightly push it open until I can peek inside.

My mouth goes dry when I see a light pink painted room with a dark wooden baby crib on one side. The walls are decorated with pictures and vinyl cut-outs of Eiffel Towers, and when I look at the wall above the crib, I notice wooden-painted letters spelling the word, Paris. A rocking chair sits in the corner facing the big bay window with a cute nightstand next to it. There’s a changing table and dresser on the other side. It’s obvious this is a nursery and a gorgeous one at that, but confusion ripples through me because I know Ethan doesn’t have a child.

“What the fuck are you doing?” an angry voice growls from behind and startles me.

I still and turn my body toward him. He moves around me, grabs the doorknob and slams the door shut.

“I’m sorry, I…” I begin, but I have no words to explain the reason why I opened that door other than being curious and wanting to know more about the man I’m sleeping with, but I know that’s not a good enough reason. Seeing him look at me now, I feel like complete shit for invading his privacy and exposing a secret he’s obviously been keeping.

“I think it’s time for you to go back to the cottage, Vada.” Ethan’s voice is monotonous and firm, which pierces straight through my heart. The man standing in front of me isn’t the same man I’ve come to know. The look in his eyes says everything his words don’t. He’s pissed. I try to reach out to him, but instead, he turns and walks to the stairs that lead to the tower without giving me a second glance.

Minutes pass, and I stand there completely shocked and upset. I want to tell him how sorry I am, but I’ve learned to give people their space and calm down, though it’s not always an easy thing to do. Like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, I walk down the stairs, through the back door, and across the path until I’m standing inside the cottage.

Emotions swirl through me, and I wish he weren’t so upset.

I sit on the edge of the bed and thoughts from my past come rushing in full force.

The rain poured down in buckets as I walked the few blocks home from school. I’d taken a half day and skipped my afternoon classes to surprise my boyfriend for our one-year anniversary. Lucas and I had been living together for a few months, but I knew deep in my heart that at any moment he’d propose, and as soon as I graduated college, we’d get married and start the rest of our lives together. With a bag of Chinese food gripped in my hand and an umbrella in the other, I crossed the street and followed the sidewalk that led up to our apartment building. Once inside, I climbed the flights of stairs and walked down the hall with a cheesy grin on my face.

When I slid the key in the door, I thought I heard a woman’s voice, but chalked it up to being exhausted. Once I opened the door, I noticed panties, a bra, a T-shirt, and blue jeans in a line on the floor. The Chinese food slipped from my grasp and slammed to the floor causing a mess. Moans echoed from our bedroom, and my first reaction was to leave, to pretend it wasn’t happening because this had to be one big nightmare, but then the anger set in.

I walked down the hall until I was standing in the doorway watching my boyfriend fuck my best friend.

“Are you kidding me?” I screamed out. Horror and anger on my face.

Lucas pushed Emma from on top of him as she tried to hurry and hide her body. Guilt and shame covered them both.

“Get the fuck out,” I said in an oddly calm voice. “Both of you, get out right now. I can’t stand looking at either of you.” I stood my ground, not allowing my emotions to take hold though I felt like I was dying inside. The two people I loved the most betrayed me in the bed I’ve slept in since I was a kid.

I watched Emma as she wrapped the sheet around her body, not making eye contact as she walked past me and picked up her clothes from the floor.

“Vada, baby. It’s not what you think. Emma means nothing to me. I love you,” Lucas begged with his dick in his hand—literally.

“So did Emma just fall on your dick or what? Because I’m a little confused as to why you’re fucking my best friend in our bed after everything I’ve done for you while you go to law school. You make me sick!” I hissed at him, years of trust issues coming full circle.

He walked over to me, pleading, telling me how much of a mistake it was, but I couldn’t listen to his lies anymore. I turned around and walked away. After he realized I wasn’t taking his bullshit, he packed a bag of clothes and left. I watched as the two of them walked in the rain together toward her car that was parked a few blocks away. I should’ve realized everything wasn’t perfect like I had built in my head. Our relationship was based on lies and broken promises, and I was the stupid girl who believed it was going to be my happily ever after.

After that day, I promised myself I’d never let that happen to me again.

Lucas was smart, but also one of those bad boy types. He lured me in with his charm and hot body. He was also a big flirt, so I shouldn’t have been surprised, but in my mind, I created this faux hope that he was different.

I’ve always been attracted to the wrong guys. Even though deep down, I knew they meant trouble and heartbreak. I’m sure Dr. Phil would have a field day psychoanalyzing my attraction to men who are most likely to cheat, lie, and break my heart. After watching the way my father lied and manipulated my mother, it’s somehow the only thing I know. What would Freud say? Daddy issues, no doubt.

Lucas, Jason, Brett, Tyler, and Todd. Hell, my ex list is as long as Taylor Swift’s.

Lucas was a cheater. Bastard.

Jason was a liar and thief. Money from my wallet just miraculously vanished every time he was around.

Brett was an alcoholic. Jack Daniels was a better match for him anyway.

Tyler was a womanizer. Apparently charming and sexy are my weaknesses.

Todd, well, he was gay. At least he made a great shopping partner.

I could probably write the lyrics to a breakup song with my track record.

I’ll be the first to admit I have trust issues, but how could I not? From as far back as I could remember, he’d verbally abused my mother, and worse, she just took it. He’d drink and lie about it. I swore to myself, that no matter what if a man or anyone ever spoke to me or treated me the way he did her, I would stand up for myself.

And better—I’d fucking walk away.

That didn’t leave a lot of room for a meaningful relationship to form.

Many nights I buried myself in books hoping I wouldn’t hear him screaming. Reading saved my life. It helped transport me into a world that didn’t include my father berating my mother. In books, I found adventure and love and kindness, everything I was missing in my everyday life. Ultimately, reading later inspired me to become a writer and create worlds far better than my own.

As an adult, words became my escape as well, but in a different way. Though the world may be filled with loveless assholes and men who can’t give me a happy ending, at least in my books there’s always love and happily ever afters.

I stand up, realizing I’m hungry but too embarrassed to go back over to Ethan’s. Going to my suitcase, I dig for the extra protein bars I packed for this trip. Once I find one, I go to my laptop and turn it on. I’m in a bad mood. Inspiration has left, but I put my fingers on the keys anyway because these words aren’t going to write themselves. I go up one paragraph and read what I wrote before Ethan barged in and stole my breath away.

---

He looks at her across the small room and moves to her in one quick motion.

“I love you,” he whispers across the shell of her ear, causing her to shiver.

Smiling, she bites her bottom lip and whispers the words back to him. How could two star-crossed lovers find their way back to one another so easily? Knowing this might be her last chance to spill her heart before leaving, she goes to him, and presses her lips so softly against his and steals the words that were teetering on his tongue.

---

Is it possible to be jealous of fictional characters? I’m half-tempted to delete what I’ve written in this chapter and tear the two lovers apart, only to leave the reader as heartbroken and confused as I am. However, instead of doing something rash, I pick up my phone and schedule an Uber.

When I walk out of the cottage, I look up at the tower and see Ethan staring out the window on the other side. I’m glad his back is to me because I don’t think I could look him in the eye without feeling some sort of guilt or awkwardness.

He never mentioned having a daughter, so a nursery was the last thing I expected to see when I opened the door. Having a child means he got someone pregnant and knowing his record, it could’ve been from a one-night stand, or maybe it was from an actual long-term relationship. If it’s with an ex he loved, and they had a child together, maybe that relationship is strained, so he doesn’t have custody? Or maybe he only sees his daughter every other week? Different scenarios play in my head, wondering how he could’ve never mentioned it to me. I know it’s not as if he lied to me because we weren’t supposed to get personal, but I crossed the line the moment I opened the door that led to his daughter’s room. If I could take it back, I would. The look on his face is one I won’t forget. His furrowed brows, his intense stare, and his cold tone. He was furious, and everything about his stance and words told me he couldn’t trust me. That hurts the most.

Ethan’s a broken soul, and while I want to dig deeper, I can’t help but feel like I’ve worn out my welcome.

Dread washes over me as his body turns, and I rush through the garden and hop inside the car that’s waiting by the curb.

I don’t know where I’m going, but I need to get away and clear my mind.

The countdown until I leave for Chicago begins now.