I feel like a complete asshole. Hell, I am. There’s no other way to define the low level of respect I showed Josie by walking out of that room immediately after she'd just given herself to me so intimately.

She deserves better than that. Anyone does.

I don't feel I can justify what I did, but at the same time, I couldn't bring myself to be completely honest with her then. Now, the day after seeing her dejected expression and hurt eyes, I'm questioning why I couldn't just tell her the goddamn truth. Not telling her undoubtedly hurt her more than being truthful ever would.

It's funny, because I can't come up with one damn explanation save for the fact that I feel the need to protect, and possibly overprotect, the one thing that means more to me than anything else in this entire world. The only thing funnier than that is, not only did I feel the need to keep Josie from that part of me, but now, standing here outside my own condo with no one around to confide in or share anything with, all I wish I could do is share everything with her.

It's a little late for that, I think to myself.

And I know I've got no one to blame for the sense of loneliness I'm feeling but myself. As I pour myself a second cup of coffee, spiking it with a healthy dollop of Bailey's and taking it out onto the concrete balcony that's just off the one side of my master bedroom, for the hundredth time I wonder what the odds are that she would be staying at the same hotel I was the night after that show.

Usually, I don't even get myself a hotel room, choosing to make the two-hour drive back to my place. But that night, knowing that we had back-to-back shows and that I would just have to drive all the way back into Las Vegas again, I'd chosen to splurge and get myself a room at the Bermuda. It was off the Strip, away from the bulk of the noise, and almost everyone who frequented the place at this time of year were snowbirds and easily over the age of sixty. I cherished the quietness of it, and the vast contrast of its surroundings in comparison to the craziness of the Excalibur.

That said, the damn place might as well have exploded into chaos the moment I recognized Josie as the girl with the alluring eyes from the night before.

I'm not a man who believes in fate, but there was no way that I couldn't at least run with that coincidence and see what happened.

And what happened was that you fucked up the entire thing by being an asshole. Wow, my own mind isn't even going to cut me a break.

Before I lower myself into the lawn chair set up at the corner of my balcony, I pull my phone out from my back pocket. I sit down, tossing my legs up onto the railing. It takes me eight minutes and numerous sips of my coffee before I realize that the texts I'm sending to Josie and deleting immediately after I type them out are nothing but empty words and a lame attempt at just being able to hear her voice. I want her to call me, just she won’t.

Last night, late after I got home from the thing I had to do that prevented me from staying with Josie after our evening together, I found a text sitting on my phone from an unknown number. It was short and sweet.

It’s Josie. We should talk.

That's it. But it was a start, and I was relieved to see the words from her. I wrote back the only thing I could think of at that time.

We should. I'm just not sure where to start.

Her reply came quickly. Too quickly.

How about with whatever it is you're not telling me.

The tone of her text bristled my defenses then, and all I could manage to respond with was:

When you show up to the show on Sunday night. Not before.

It was prickish, and low. But, damn it, I want her at that show. And the flicker of intrigue that had been in her eyes when I’d mentioned it told me she wanted to be there, too. This show would be different from the first one she'd attended, especially since she would be getting the VIP special, which included a whole lot of me. Not just during the show, but backstage, too, if I could just reason with her. I’d make damn sure she enjoyed it.

But first, she needs to show up. Now, sitting here staring out over the city in front of me, just beginning to awaken and prepare to take on the day, I close my eyes and hope she understands just how much I want her to be there tomorrow night. How much I want to not only pick up where we left off, but also make up for the stupid things I'd said and done in a moment of overprotectiveness and…fear.

It's in my nature, to protect and to defend, but there is also one more thing in my nature—to conquer. And I will conquer Josie. I've already begun to, and she doesn't even realize it yet.