I debate calling Amy so she can talk me down, but my throat is hurting so much I don’t even think I can handle talking that much right now. I wish I could call my mom. I feel like I’m having a meltdown from the past week. Being trapped in the truck, not eating or drinking enough, worrying about my job, getting sick, Michael being gone, Storm confusing the hell out of me... It’s all just too much. My life is usually so incredibly boring. Nothing new or exciting ever happens. Now I have a rock star telling me he wants to fuck me silly. I don’t even know what that means.

I stare at my cell phone thinking maybe I should send Storm a text and say I’m sorry. I’m not even sure what I’m apologizing for, though. No. I’m not going to give in to his crazy. It’s better he is gone. I have never been one of those girls who psycho-calls and texts men, and I’m not about to start now.

The front door opening and closing causes me to jump. “You should really lock your door.”

I try to suppress the smile that immediately takes over my face because I don’t want him to see I’m glad he came back. “What’s the point? You’ll just come in anyway.”

He grins at me and hands me a latte. “I got you your favorite coffee. I thought maybe it would calm your shit down.”

Every part of me wants to squee over the man who brought my cat a toy and me a latte. I can’t wrap my head around him at all. How can he be so thoughtful, but not be into relationships? Does he treat his fuckbuddies like this? I have to know.

I sip the latte and thank him while he settles in the chair across the room.

“Storm, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Do you treat the women you’re in those non-relationships with like this?”

“Like this how?”

“You know... lattes, breakfast smoothies, cat toys... that sort of thing?”

“No. I haven’t done shit like this in a long time.” A sadness veils his eyes, and I wonder if he is thinking of his wife. I wish I had never read that article on the Internet.

“I do appreciate it, Storm. I’m really just not used to it.” I take another sip of the coffee. My throat is hurting so bad and now one of my ears is congested.

“I know.” He crosses the room and sits on the edge of the couch against my legs again. “Let me ask you something now.” He takes the cup from my hand and puts it on the coffee table.

“Okay...”

“Can you give me twenty seconds of you not thinking, not analyzing, not worrying, not pushing me away? Will you do that for me?”

“I’ll try.”

He grins at me. “Not try. I want you to do it.”

“Okay. But only because you got me a white mocha.”

“Shhh...”

Before I have a chance to think, his lips are on mine, soft and lingering. Touching then not touching. Oh, God. Don’t think. He pulls away slightly, but I lean up to meet his lips again and that’s all he needs to kiss me deeper, his tongue slowly sweeping over mine. A small gasp escapes me. Don’t think. I become breathless, drowning in his kisses. My hands go up to his neck under his long, soft hair, holding him to me. I need so much more of this, so much more of him. He grabs my hands in his and pins them down on the pillow over my head and starts to kiss me wildly, devouring my mouth with his. Holy fuck. I wish I didn’t feel sick. Pulling away slightly, he stares down at me, breathing heavy. He keeps my hands in his grasp.

“I’m going to stop now,” he says between breaths. “But I want you to do one more thing for me.” He kisses me softly again and then pulls back. “I want you to think about the idea of us. But not until I leave. I’m going to stay here until Saturday night with you, and we’re not going to talk about any of this, and I’m not going to kiss you or touch you.” He lowers his lips to kiss my neck, his teeth grazing my flesh. My clit quivers in response. “I want you to come to my show next month, and I don’t give a fuck if you bring Michael and Amy or not. I want you there.” He drags his lips up my neck to my mouth. “Then I’m going to be gone for a few months and you’re going to have a lot of time to think, Evie. When I get back, I want you to tell me what you want.” His green eyes stare down into mine. “Okay?”

I nod slowly, too stupefied to speak.

“And I don’t want you beating yourself up that you just cheated on Michael. I needed to show you what it could be like, because you really have no fucking idea.” Once more, he kisses me, soft and deep. A lovers kiss, filled with a silent desperation and urgency. My entire body is trembling from the impact of it. He lifts one of my hands to his lips and kisses it softly before letting it go.

For once, I have no idea what to say.

He hands me my coffee again. “Looks like you need this.” I sip it absently. I can’t shake the feeling of his kisses. It would be so easy to get lost in him, to just lie here all day and kiss him, to pull his clothes off and touch him everywhere. I know he would be an amazing lover. He knows exactly how to kiss, where to kiss, and the places to touch. Michael lacks all of that. That’s just sex though, I remind myself. That’s not love and commitment. I do not want to be one of his fuck toys, no matter how good he can make me feel. As much as I don’t want to, and as wrong as I know it is, I know I’m falling hard for him. I just know I will end up hurt, and even worse, utterly alone.

Chapter Eleven

Sometimes, it’s easy to slip into denial about what’s going on in life. It’s safer and easier to exist within the confines of what is comfortable than to venture out and allow yourself to experience new things that might shake the foundation that has become your safety net.

I think most people settle for what is safe at least once at some point in their lives, but a person who suffers from anxiety or depression will almost always run away from goals, dreams, and new life adventures to avoid the possibility of feeling anything new and somewhat scary. It is better to live with the known than face the unknown. Or at least that’s what I’ve told myself for most of my life. That mantra kept me steady, unchanged, consistent, comforted.

I have lived vicariously through my best friend Amy since I was five years old. She is a risk taker, the thrill seeker. My window to the world I am afraid of experiencing. She has been my rock since the first day of kindergarten when two other little girls were making fun of me for crying after my mother kissed me goodbye and left me at the door to the school. I was afraid she would never come back and I would be abandoned forever. And while that didn’t happen on that day, eventually, it did happen. Amy took my hand, told those two little girls off, and walked me into the school, never leaving my side.

“Ev, you need to listen to me.” I am listening to her. I just don’t want to hear what she’s saying. We’re at a small restaurant in town having lunch to celebrate my feeling better and not being fired.

“Amy, you don’t understand...”

She taps her manicured finger on her wine glass and lifts her ice blue eyes to meet mine. “I do, honey, and you know I do. I’ve been through this many times. I’ve dated a lot of men. You’re scared. But this guy really seems to like you. These texts he sends you? I wish men would text me nice things like that, just to ask me how my day is and to say goodnight. Instead, I get this bullshit asking me to bring them cigarettes and telling me to wear a black thong.”

“Well, you do have a fabulous ass,” I tease.

“I know, but I would still like to have a man treat me like a lady once in a while. You’re getting texts like this from a rock star, for God’s sake. I’m getting wet just thinking about it!”

“Amy!”

She flings her platinum hair back off her shoulder and sips her wine. “What? The guy is sex on a stick, Evelyn, and he’s got it bad for you. If I were you, I would not hesitate. Go directly to his bed. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars.”

“There’s more to life than sex.”

She raises her eyebrows at me. “Is there?”

“I want more than that, Amy. You know that.”

“Ev! He’s giving you more than that! He’s been sending you cute little text messages with smiley faces for two weeks! Who the hell does that? He took care of you while you were sick with the flu and looked like ass! He’s making a big effort here, and trust me—that is rare, honey.”

“Yeah, but why is he doing it? Don’t you think it’s an act?”

I push my salad around on my plate, my appetite still not back to what it was a month ago. I’m not sure if it’s from being sick or just my nerves being shot to hell.

“I don’t think he would go through this much effort just to put on an act to get down your pants. What would be the point? He can pretty much get any girl he wants. The dude dates models, actresses, and porn stars. If he didn’t really like you, he wouldn’t be wasting all this time, now would he? Ain’t nobody got time for that.”

Ugh. Models, actresses, and porn stars. Like I needed to be reminded of all of that.

“Evelyn, let’s get serious for a moment.” She pushes her plate away from her and leans her elbow on the table. “You know I love you like a sister. I love Michael, too. But you guys seem to have outgrown each other. He doesn’t make you laugh or take you out. He’s never home anymore. He’s completely thrown himself into work and playing golf. And that’s okay. He has every right to follow his goals. But what about your goals and dreams? You want to get married and have a baby. You want someone who makes you laugh. You want someone who will snuggle on the couch with you and watch funny movies. You need someone who will take care of you and be patient with you, but also be able to get you out of your own head. And, after years of boring, unfulfilling sex, I think a part of you is waking up and wanting a little more. Some adult romance. Some wild sex.”

“Amy!”

“It’s true, Evelyn.” She finishes off her wine. “This isn’t easy for me to say, but I have to because I love you. And I hope you don’t take this wrong because it will kill me, sweetie. I think a big part of you holding on to Michael is because he was there with you when your parents died. Your parents knew him. They liked him. I think the thought of being with a man who your parents never met scares you. I think you’re scared to move on. I know it’s scary for you to let go of someone else, Evelyn. You’ve dealt with a lot of losses. But I think you might have to be brave and let go of the security you feel with Michael and give someone else a chance or else you are going to end up miserable. I know your mom would never want you to be in an unhappy relationship. She would want you to be with someone who excites you, and takes care of you, and sends you cute little smiley faces.”