Waking up alone wasn’t a big surprise. But it was disappointing nonetheless. Callie hadn’t expected Brundar to stay the night, but a tiny part of her had wished he would.

This morning, her heart and her mind were in an even greater state of sensory overload than the day before. Probably because she’d had time to process. She needed to talk about what had happened between them. She needed to feel connected to the man with whom she’d shared so many firsts.

The girl who’d married the first guy she’d had sex with, had celebrated her divorce by seducing a dangerous man who was so far from the norm he was practically an alien. And she wasn’t referring to Brundar’s sexual proclivities which were strange to say the least.

Look who’s talking.

As if she’d been an innocent lamb who had no idea what she was getting herself into. Brundar had been honest and upfront about everything, and yet, fully informed of his preferences, Callie had pursued him with a single-minded determination. On his side, he had done everything he could to deter her.

Was that why she’d gone after him like she’d never gone after any guy before?

Perhaps she’d subconsciously considered his reluctance a challenge?

Or was it something else?

What did it say about her that she’d chosen a bondage aficionado as her first after Shawn?

Way to come out with a bang, Callie.

It had been amazing.

She hadn’t known such heights of sensory pleasure were even possible. And she hadn’t expected a guy who kept his heart locked in an impenetrable box to be so completely selfless either.

Knowing that without a condom he couldn’t take it any further, he’d pleasured her into oblivion and then refused her offer to reciprocate orally because she’d been exhausted by the experience.

On the other hand, had the lack of condom been an excuse? And if yes, why?

Callie had no plausible answer for that.

Why would a guy deliberately choose to go home with a giant case of blue balls? And it wasn’t as if Brundar hadn’t been affected. She’d seen the evidence of his arousal even though he’d never taken off his pants.

One thing Callie knew for sure, as soon as she made it to a pharmacy, she was going to buy a bunch of them.

The thing was, it wasn’t all about sex, and emotionally Callie had been left bereft. She needed more from a relationship, even a casual one. But then, she should’ve been prepared for that. What had she expected from a guy whose range of emotions spanned between indifferent to marginally interested, or from stoic to mildly amused?

Nevertheless, Brundar’s quiet presence had been reassuring. She loved having him around even though she was the one doing all the talking and his responses were limited to an occasional nod or a single word.

It was strange how this man who seemed as cold as a marble statue had managed to fill the apartment with warmth. In his absence, the place felt like the temporary shelter it was and not a home.

Maybe she could call Brundar and invite him to stop by and have lunch with her. They could talk, or rather she would talk, and Brundar would do his statue impersonation. It was better than the silence, better than the vacuum in which her thoughts ran in circles with no anchor.

She had his number, but he’d given it with explicit instructions to use only in emergencies. Was there a way she could claim her need to see him was an emergency?

For her it was.

Right. The last thing she should do was to appear clingy and needy, not unless she wanted to see him run leaving skid marks on the sidewalk.

He would be at the club tonight. She could hold out until then.

A cup of coffee in hand, Callie sat down at her dining table and opened a book, ready to put in her two hours of studying.

After half an hour Callie gave up. At the rate she’d been going, it would’ve taken her double the time to go over the same material. She couldn’t concentrate, reading the same paragraph over and over again and still not getting what she was reading because thoughts of Brundar kept interfering.

Crap. She needed someone to talk to before her head exploded.

Calling Brundar was out, and calling Dawn was still dangerous, which left only one person.

Miriam. Or Miri as the barmaid liked to be called.

They’d exchanged numbers with the vague promise to hang out sometimes. Maybe she should take her new friend up on that offer.

With spiked blue hair, arms that were covered in tattoos starting at the wrist and going all the way up to her shoulders, a nose stud, and a dirty mouth, Miri wasn’t the type Callie would’ve normally befriended.

But this was the old Callie who for the past two years had been living under a rock. The new Callie was all about grabbing life by the horns, which translated into taking chances, experimenting with new sensations, and getting to know new people.

Pulling her phone out of her purse, she rang Miri.

“Yeah.”

“Hi, it’s Callie. Do you want to hang out before work?”

“I do, but I have a nail appointment.”

Miri’s nails were tiny works of arts, and she changed the designs on a weekly basis.

“How about after your appointment?”

“I have a better idea. Come with me.”

“To the nail place?”

“Yeah. Yours could use some decorations.”

Callie had had her nails done exactly once. For her wedding. “Don’t I need an appointment?”

“Nah. You’re with me. Get ready. I’ll come get you in half an hour. And wear flip-flops if you want your toes done too.”

“Thanks. You’re awesome.” Not having a car was a drag. She was lucky Miri didn’t mind picking her up.

Dressed in a pair of old faded jeans, a plain T-shirt, and flip-flops, Callie waited for Miri’s call. She was excited. Since Dawn had left for MIT, Callie hadn’t done anything fun with a friend.

When the call came, she ran down the stairs taking two at a time, her flip-flops making a ruckus that echoed through the stairwell.

“Are you going to get acrylics?” Miri asked as Callie got in. “They are durable.” She wiggled her fingers, tapping the steering wheel to demonstrate how tough her nails were. This week it was butterflies—a different one for each nail.

“I think I’ll start with a manicure and a clear nail polish.”

Miri smirked. “A nail virgin, eh?”

“No, but almost. I had them done once. For my wedding.”

“You’re married?”

“Not anymore.”

“High five, sister.”

They clapped palms.

“What about you?”

Miri shrugged. “I dumped my boyfriend’s sorry ass after three years of living together. Got tired of watching him sit around the apartment and do nothing, while I worked and paid the bills and did everything else. Supposedly, he was pursuing his true calling.” She rolled her eyes, making air quotes with her fingers while holding the steering wheel with her thumbs.

“What was it?” Callie asked.

“His true calling? He claimed it was music. But the only thing he excelled at was bumming, while I was the idiot enabling him. Took me three fucking years to get smart and realize that the motherfucker was using me.”

With a screech of tires, Miri turned into a parking spot that had just been vacated.

The salon occupied a corner of a tattoo shop and had only one beautician. A woman who was covered in even more tattoos than Miri, displaying them proudly by wearing a muscle shirt and shorts.

“Hey, Lisa, can you squeeze in a manicure for Callie here before your next appointment?”

“What’s up, Callie?” Lisa smiled before turning back to Miri. “Depends on what you have in mind for today. If it’s something elaborate then no.”

Miri plopped down on a chair and pointed for Callie to sit next to her. “I’m in a patriotic mood. Stars and stripes. That shouldn’t take too long.”

“Then yeah.” Lisa put a folded towel over her workstation.

Sitting sideways and facing Callie, Miri offered Lisa her hand. “So, what’s the story with you and Donnie?”

What? That came out of nowhere.

“Donnie the bouncer? Nothing.”

“You spend all your breaks outside with him. And I know that he walks you home sometimes. I was wondering if you guys had something going on.”

“I go outside to give my eardrums a break from the hellish sound levels in the club. Not to hang out with Donnie, although he is a nice guy and I enjoy his company. But he is only a friend. Nothing more.”

Miri narrowed her eyes at Callie. “What about when he walks you home? Do you ever invite him to come in?”

“No, I don’t.”

The girl wasn’t buying it. Her eyes were still full of suspicion. “Why not? You’re single, and you think he is cool. Not too shabby to look at either.”

Aha. So that was the reason Miri had invited her to come have her nails done. Not because she wanted to be friends, but because she wanted to grill Callie about Donnie.

Barely stifling a laugh, Callie crossed her arms over her chest and returned Miri’s glower. “I think someone has a crush on our hunky bouncer.”

Miri waved her free hand. “Your lingo is so high school. No one over eighteen calls it a crush.”

“What do they call it then?”

“Doesn't matter. I think he’s hot. Don’t you think?” Miri was still fishing.

“I think he is a great guy, and he is all yours. The only reason he walks me home is that Brun… I mean Brad asked him to. Franco walks me home too. Do you think I have something going on with him as well?”

Miri shrugged. “Some girls like variety. I don’t judge.”

Yeah, right. “Well, I don’t. One is more than enough for me.”

“And who’s that one?”

Wasn't it obvious? Or was Miri playing dumb to have Callie admit it?

Whatever, she had no reason to hide their involvement. Brundar hadn’t told her to keep whatever was going on between them a secret. He might have implied it by ignoring her at the club, but she could play dumb as well as the next girl. The bottom line was that she needed someone to talk to, and Miri was the only one available. Even if she had her own agenda.

“Brad.”

Miri’s eyes widened. “I heard rumors, but I didn’t believe them. You have the hots for the Grim Reaper?”

Ouch, what a nasty nickname. “You know how it goes. The heart wants what the heart wants. It might not make sense to anyone else, but he is the only one I’m interested in.”

“Poor girl.” Miri reached with her free hand and patted Callie’s knee. “He is a looker, I’ll give him that. And I hear he is good with the whip. So I guess he appeals to a certain type. I just didn’t think you were into that stuff. You sure don’t look it with your innocent girl-next-door looks.”

“Kinky,” Lisa butted in, which earned her a hard stare from Miri.

Callie felt her cheeks heat up. “I’m not.” She shivered just thinking about it. “Not whips and stuff like that.”

Miri smirked. “I don’t judge, girl.” She lifted her tattoo-covered arm. “It’s not like I don’t get it. I don’t do tats just for the ink.”

“You don’t?”

Lisa snorted. “Nope.”

They were both weird. “I have no idea what you’re trying to say, but whatever. Brad helped me a lot while expecting nothing in return. In my book, it makes him a good guy. He might appear cold and indifferent, but I think it’s only a mask to hide who he really is inside.”

Miri lifted a pierced brow. “And what if it isn’t? What if what you see is what you get? Would you still want him?”

Callie didn’t need to think about it. The answer was instantaneous. “Yes.”

Lisa shook her head, while Miri made a show of mock crossing herself. “May God have mercy on your soul, my child.”