“Girl, you have got to get up off that couch.”

I glare at Jenna and shake my head, burrowing deeper into the pillows and blankets. “No.”

“At least take a shower. You smell like that homeless guy who always begs on the corner by Starbucks.”

As surreptitiously as possible, I sniff my shirt. Maybe I do need a shower, or at least a change of clothes. But it’s not like I’m going anywhere. I haven’t even left the house in three days. There’s no point.

Any career I had is gone. I just need a few days to wallow in self-pity before I decide what to do with my life.

“Seriously, get up. We’re going out.”

I glance down at myself then back at Jenna. My leggings and old t-shirt aren’t exactly going out attire. I also haven’t showered in enough days that I can’t remember the actual count. “Out? No. I will agree to shower, but we can order something to eat. I’m not leaving the house.”

She sighs and drops down on the couch by my feet. “Fine. But tell me, are you ever going to get your ass out of this house and back to life?”

“What’s the point? I don’t have a job, my reputation is non-existent, and the only man I’ve been involved with for months left me high and dry with a major crisis.”

“He still hasn’t called, huh?”

I shake my head and stare at the silent phone sitting on my coffee table. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zero. Zilch. Not a call or a text to touch base or to see how I’m doing. The man just disappeared.

Part of me argues that I can’t really blame him. He woke up in my bed to his world imploding and it was partially my fault. The other part of me wants to rip his balls off and shove them down his throat for walking away instead of facing the fallout of our actions together.

That part of me has been winning out over the last couple days.

“Why don’t you call him?”

I whip my head around to her and see she’s totally serious. “What? You’re crazy. I’m not calling the guy who snuck out after a night of amazing sex when both our worlds were falling apart around us without so much as a warning or good morning.”

She shrugs. “Why the hell not? It’s clear you need some sort of closure on this whole thing. Just handing in your resignation and walking away from the job may have ended that, but it didn’t end whatever you had with Rafe.”

What did I have with Rafe?

Attraction…yes.

Lust…definitely.

But was there more there?

I certainly would like to think so, but what can I really know after one night. He never gave us the chance to see where this might go before he bolted. I want to believe it was just because of the pictures leaking, and had that not happened, I would have woken to a warm body next to me. Rafe doesn’t seem the type to sneak away, so I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt on that.

But that doesn’t lessen the sting nor does it explain why he hasn’t gotten in contact since then.

Maybe he’s scared I blame him for what happened. It would be logical he might think I would feel that way. But he hasn’t even given me a chance to explain that I don’t blame him. I know my own actions and choices are what got me here.

There’s no denying that. We both played a role, but I could have stopped things at the restaurant. I could have done what a good boss is supposed to do and reject his advances. But I so badly wanted to know what it would feel like to be in his arms, to have him inside me. I let caution fly out the window along with my career.

And now, I’m paying the price. Literally and figuratively.

Lucrative and prestigious job…gone.

Potential at finding a real relationship with someone I click with…gone.

I can’t just call him.

Can I?

“You really think I should just call him?”

Jenna sighs and pours herself a glass of wine from the bottle on the coffee table. “I think you won’t get off this couch to do more than eat, shit, and piss until you do.”

“Geez, crude much?”

Her eyebrow raises, and she takes a sip of her wine. “Am I wrong?”

“That’s beside the point.”

She grins over the glass at me. “Just say it. I promise not to lord it over you for too long. Just admit I’m right.”

I cross my arms over my chest and return my attention to whatever mindless crap is on the T.V. “Over my dead body.”

“From the smell of it, you’re getting close anyway.”

I throw a wadded up tissue at her. “Bitch.”

She shrugs and smiles. “I may be a bitch, but I’m a bitch who is one hundred percent right about this. Call the man.”