I’m a piece of shit.

I know this, it’s a fact I’ve resigned myself to in recent years. Then how come I feel lower than scum in the day following the incident where Kara caught me getting my knob polished?

I was horny, my cock couldn’t take it anymore. And plus, she had made it clear, in no uncertain terms, over our dinner at Nobu that the two of us would never fall into bed under any pretense ever again. I had to rub at my chest from the ache still lingering over her bringing up that night so many years ago, the one she thought she knew the whole story on.

Willow wasn’t necessarily a friend, but she also wasn’t a fuck buddy. No, I didn’t pay her, she was in the industry as a B-list TV actress and made a very nice living for herself. She was just someone who also enjoyed having fun, kept her mouth shut, and didn’t mind not having any strings attached. We fucked when we felt like it, didn’t get jealous of each other, and there was no awkwardness or expectation to spend the night.

Except after Kara had run out of the doorway like a scared little mouse, my dick had instantly gone soft. Like my genitalia felt bad for being an asshole, even though my fake girlfriend wanted absolutely nothing to do with me. I was pathetic, and mixed up, and I sent Willow home as I almost ripped my hair out in frustration.

The one woman I had but couldn’t touch thought I was a cheater and a liar, yet I couldn’t get my rocks off with another female because my conscience decided to kick in at that moment.

When I walk into the kitchen, Kara is chatting openly with my chef, Skylar.

“And then we fold it over, as so.” Skylar maneuvers something in a frying pan with a spatula, his thick middle jiggling as he laughs at something I don’t hear Kara say.

“Can I bring you home with me to New Jersey? I swear, Sky, I’ve never eaten better food than I have here.” She props her chin on her hand while sitting at the large marble island, her posture completely relaxed.

Annoyance flickers through my heart knowing that she’ll never be that relaxed with me ever again.

“If I wasn’t such a fame whore, maybe I’d run away with you to the Dirty Jerz,” he teases her.

“You’ll have to at least come for a visit and let me show you that my great state is more than traffic and wasteland. Where I live is practically the boondocks.”

“Good morning,” I announce myself, smiling at Kara in what I hope is a disarming way.

She turns her head, looking out the window and refusing to acknowledge my presence.

“‘Sup, boss? Overnight oats with caramel and pecans? I just bought fresh ones, they’re so sweet I could eat the entire container.” Skylar fist bumps me as I walk past him to the fridge, grabbing the milk out of it and pouring myself a glass.

“That sounds awesome, man, thanks.” I turn to Kara. “So, I need you to come shopping with me today.”

I’m met by a swish of her black hair, tousled from sleep.

“I need to get a suit for this opening of a movie I wrote a song for … and I’d love to take you shopping for a dress.” I try to plead with her with Skylar also in the room.

He sets her breakfast in front of her, and then sets to work on mine. Once he sets my bowl in front of me, I think he gets the hint and exits the kitchen.

“I’m sorry you had to see that last night. But I was in my bedroom, and you made it clear the other night that there was not going to be anything of that nature between us.” I sit on the stool across from her, forcing her to look at me.

“That doesn’t mean I’m comfortable with you bringing skanks to the house I’m staying in, pretending to be your girlfriend. What would happen if that girl blabbed to the media?” Her tone is pure anger.

I tuck into my oats, too hungry to have this discussion on an empty stomach. After a few bites, I look her square in the eyes again.

“Her name is Willow, and she won’t say anything to anyone. She’s a friend.”

“A friend who lets you put your dick in her mouth.” Kara’s lower lip wobbles.

I realize that this has affected her more than I thought, in an emotional sense. Maybe she was bluffing when she said those things at dinner the other night.

I sigh. “I apologize, I really am sorry. It was inconsiderate of me, and if it happens again, I’ll take my activities off campus so to speak. I would be upset if you did the same, and I should have thought about that.”

“I wouldn’t do that, since it says in the contract that I can have no male visitors or friends during this period of time we’re pretending.”

She’s right, and I feel even more like a dick. What a double standard. “Then I won’t either.”

“Yeah, right.” Kara snorts like I just told her I’m hiding a unicorn in my bathroom.

“I promise.” I hold a pinky out to her, like I had in high school the time I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone about her fear of the dark. “No other women, my hand will be my only company for the next couple of months.”

She studies my pinky where it extends to her across the island. Finally, she reaches out, latching hers around it. “Only because it will be so fun to watch you squirm.”

* * *

The tailor sticks another pin the cuff of the pant leg I’m wearing, and I scroll through my Instagram feed, bored as I get fitted in the Hugo Boss three piece.

“How about this one?” Kara’s voice comes from behind me, and I look up in the mirror.

Behind me, but so I can see her next to my own reflection in the surface, she stands just outside the dressing room.

In the sexiest, silkiest red dress that hugs every curve of her body. Black curls spill over one shoulder, and the straps of material around her shoulders barely contain the perkiest set of tits I’ve ever seen. I wish I had the privilege of exploring this version of Kara. Of course, discovering her sexuality as a teenager had been an extremely arousing experience, but the man in me appreciated this mature body she sported now.

“I mean … it’s fucking spectacular.” My voice cracked.

Kara actually smiles shyly, examining herself in the mirror.

“But, I think Patrick, my agent, wouldn’t approve of it for the premiere. Maybe something a little more reserved, but still sexy,” I tell the last part to the personal shopper helping Kara.

She nods curtly and walks back out of our little VIP dressing room area.

“I think you’re right, although this is the most beautiful dress I’ve ever worn. Actually, all of the ones I’ve tried on are better than the last.” She fingers the material on her body.

“You can get multiple dresses, but I want the perfect one for the premiere. It’s going to be a big night.”

She doesn’t yet know it, but Patrick and I think it’ll be the best opportunity to debut our engagement. Not only will she be wearing a new dress, but she’ll have an added five carats on her left finger.

“I feel like Julia Roberts.” Kara laughs.

“Do you have something you need to tell me about your profession?” I raise an eyebrow at her as the tailor chalks a line on the outside of the jacket I’m wearing.

Violet eyes roll dramatically. “No, you jerk. But I do feel as though I should belittle some sales clerk for making me feel small. Not that everyone here hasn’t been entirely wonderful!” She adds the last part just in case anyone is listening.

“Maybe you should add some hats and a tie to that order. And a dress to stomp divots in.”

She chuckles. “I made you watch that movie far too many times, apparently.”

I laugh too. “You think? I could recite Richard Gere’s lines by memory, to be honest. You were obsessed.”

Kara shrugs. “I liked a good romantic comedy.”

“Liked?! Do you know how much money I spent on movies in high school? I almost had to get a second minimum wage job because you loved a good love story.”

The smiles between us warm the ice that had frozen over our connection from the night before, and it takes a minute or two before Kara turns to go back into the smaller dressing room off of the private area we occupy.

It may be a small interaction, but it feels like I just climbed Everest. We finally had a conversation that didn’t end in insults or someone storming out, and it made me think that there was light at the end of this tunnel.