Chapter One

      Oh, Mondays. There I was again, the same as every other day, staring at that blue tinted computer screen in my darkened office as I once again put together someone else’s genius idea. The day crawled like all Mondays crawl, leaving me to want to gouge my eyes out by lunch time. After, e-mailing my latest “masterpiece” to the head of creative for approval, I left out into the wasteland of the never ending clack of the keyboards in the bullpen where they kept the interns and assistants.

      Price and Keller was a huge publishing firm, and I worked with in-house marketing. This meant I spent most of my time giving life to someone else’s genius idea. I made book covers, banners, bookmarks, cards, ads, etcetera, etcetera. If it went through Photoshop or Illustrator in the block of clients with last names A-F. I was the person who did the dirty work of finalizing the abstract ideas that the creative manager for clients A-F came up with. In short, I worked in the Seventh Circle of Hell with the option for promotion and dental.

      They liked to keep us creative teams who worked with the same block of clients on the same floor. So, across the sea of cubicles were all of the copywriters. They were the people that came up with those neat little blurbs on the back of books and those tag lines that few people actually read. My bestie, Paige Smith, was one of those immensely gifted people. You could tell her the premise of a novel, and she could churn out a gripping summary that would make the cheapest of cheapskates part with money. She was just that good. It was rare for her to not finish her deadlines early.

      So I was more than a little shocked when I found her staring at the computer screen with arms crossed, sighing as 90s Gangster Rap filtered through the room just above mute. Her face read nothing short of absolute dejection.  Her little pink lip-gloss coated mouth twisted into a frown as she pouted at the screen.

      “Writer’s block?” I asked. She reached out, struck a key on her keyboard and the music silenced.

      “Yes…no. Maybe?” She shrugged and ran her hands back through her short brown hair and sighed. Paige was the very epitome of cutesy brunette, with wide blue eyes and the tiniest most adorable pointed nose—I was a little in envy of her. She looked kind of like a modern day Disney Princess. If not for her odd obsession with 90s Gangster Rap you’d almost expect little blue birds to dress her every morning. But it’s hard to envision that after listening to her scream the lyrics to Fuck the Police, while drunk off her ass. “Do you want to blow off work? I’m kind of over being here.”

      “It’s noon,” I countered as Aaron, her work-husband, rounded the corner. He looked like the Disney Prince to her Princess, only done in miniature…and two inches shorter than she was. He was all blonde hair, blue eyes with an immaculately charming smile. To put the cherry on top, he was the very epitome of a southern gentleman, with a Savannah accent thicker than molasses.

      “Which of you amazingly beautiful goddesses wants to go to Triple T with me to get shitfaced?” The fatigue in his voice was real.

      “Problems?” I asked quirking a brow.

      “Emma, you don’t know the half of it.”

      “Enlighten me?”

      “We’re going, don’t listen to her. She’s just going to lie to you about deadlines,” Paige teased as she shut down her computer.

      “I don’t lie!” I gaped in indignation as I watched her grab her purse and phone.

      “We know you mean well. But you always say the right thing, then follow us out the door anyway. But it’s okay, Darlin’. I know it’s hard to be good when you’re built for sin.” Aaron flashed me a thousand-watt smile and draped his arm across my shoulders. “So what’s it going to be, Red?” I knew he meant nothing by the flirtation—he was both gay and married. I always thought it was a little sad that there were no pictures of his husband in his office or on his phone. But I knew why that was, Harry and Diane—his parents—were good old fashioned Southern Baptists and though he was out, he still had that small vein of protectiveness when it came to his husband. He also told me about the horror stories that happened at his last job when they found out he was gay so he had earned the right to be a little guarded.

      “Fine, I’ll go. See, I didn’t lie.” I pointed at Paige, stepping from under Aaron’s arm. “Let me get my purse.”

      “Meet you at the elevator,” Aaron called after me as I started back across the bullpen.

***

      Twenty minutes later, we were around the corner at Triple T—which stood for The Tuck and Tape.  It was a Drag bar, as in drag queens done up in glitter and almost as much makeup as I wore. They had a few things going for them: amazing entertainment, walking distance from work, the best paninis in the entire city and lastly the bartender. Granted he wasn’t the only bartender so he wasn’t always there, but when he was, it was a treat.

      “Let me guess…” He pointed to Paige, “Cranberry Cosmo.” He turned his finger on Aaron, “Bourbon on the rocks.” Then it was my turn, and he smiled at me, squinting his eyes in thought. “Annd, you’re going to have to help me.”

“You’d think after a year of coming here you’d know my drink order,” I teased, drinking in every last bit of his six-foot-four-inch toned frame. It was before five so he had a shirt on, but I knew what he looked like it without it—after five he worked shirtless, it was better for tips. So I knew that climbing up from the waistband of those jeans was a six pack most models would die for and that those well-toned arms were wrapped in tattoos of random filigree, song lyrics, roses, and skulls. Other than that he had kind smiling bright blue eyes, sandy blonde hair and the most amazing mouth I had ever seen. Aside from the tattoos and his physique he was very boy next door.

He set about making Paige’s Cosmo as he multi-tasked, putting one of those big, clear, artisanal ice cubes into a tumbler and poured bourbon over it. He always made a show of it, flipping and spinning the bottles and glasses. I could watch him mix drinks all day, and I wasn’t alone. Paige was also gawking, but Aaron was too busy looking at his phone and making angry noises to care. It had long been established that Jasper—the sexy bartender—wasn’t Aaron’s type.

“So, what’ll it be? Sex on the Beach?” He flashed me a brilliant smile, with those pretty azure eyes darkened with lust. Oh, he was good.

“Umm, no. Black Cherry Mojito.”

“How about I make you a deal? I give you something different, and if you don’t like it, you don’t have to pay for it, and I’ll make your Mojito.”

“What if I do like it?”

“Well if you do like it, it’s still on me. But you have to give me your number.”

It was unexpected enough, to say the least, I had always thought he was gay. I mean he was the bartender at a drag club, I had watched him flirt with and get hit on by guys for the last year.

      “Whoa, whoa, whoa. I’m sorry, Jasper. I cannot in good conscience let you do this.” Paige giggled out while sipping her drink.

      “Oh?” Jasper replied as he leaned forward against the bar, leveling those baby blues on Paige.

      “There’s one thing you need to realize about Emilia here, and that’s that she doesn’t do relationships.”

      “I’ve overheard your conversations for the better part of the last year. It’s been well established that your friend here only casually sees people.” He then turned his attention back to me. “That doesn’t mean I’m not interested.”

      “And what if it’s just sex?” I beamed up at him, and his face faltered for a moment. He looked sad like he hadn’t even considered I might say that. It wasn’t just sex, but it was completely worth the look on his face to say it.

      “But what about the cuddles? Sex isn’t everything you know.” He chuckled, turning back around to grab a few bottles off of the back bar. As he mixed the drink, a band started setting up near the stage. One of them called for him, and he sighed as he finished the drink. “I’ll be right back, enjoy.”

      “I kind of always thought he was gay,” Paige confessed as she finished off her Cosmo and pushed the empty glass away from her.

      “Really? He rubberneck’s every time Em wears something revealing, which is… often,” Aaron murmured into his glass.

      “So what’s wrong?” I turned toward Aaron, with the stem of the oversized martini glass in my hand.

      “Is it hubby?” Paige asked leaning on the bar.

      “You know how last month I was suspicious he was cheating? Well, last night I tried to get the number of the Chinese place out of his phone…only to find it fucking locked.”

      “Maybe he didn’t want someone to get into it at work?” I asked furrowing my brows.

      “I just don’t get it. I thought we were happy; guess I was wrong. Surprise, surprise.” Aaron huffed finishing up his bourbon.

      “It could be nothing. Don’t stress, Sunshine.” Paige patted his back.

      “It’s not just the code, he watches the damn thing like a hawk. I mean he’s always been protective of his phone but now it’s an obsession.”

      “Are you going to talk to him about it?”

      “I can’t ignore it.”

      “Well if he’s cheating, fuck him,” I chimed in. “Aaron, you’re amazing. Whatever piece of shit he’s sticking his dick in couldn’t possibly compare to you.”

      “I don’t get it. I’ve given him everything.”

      “Oh, sweetie. There’s nothing to get… some idiots just can’t see what they have right in front of them.” Paige wrapped her arm around him as he swirled the ice cube in the empty glass.

      Just then Jasper returned pulling his shirt off over his head as he walked. Behind us, members of the band and a few others at tables whistled. One of the regulars that looked just like a Barbie Doll ran up and tucked a twenty into his back pocket.

      “Just for brightening up this little girl’s day,” she purred to him in a breathy tenor before shimmying back to the table with her friends her pretty pink sequined dress catching the light making it sparkle.

      “Thanks, Bambi,” he called over his shoulder as he tucked his shirt into his back pocket. Without another word he poured another bourbon for Aaron, then started on Paige’s Cosmo with muscles ripping and the three of us cast into brain dead silence.  “…Tie Me to the Bed Post?” I only caught the end of what he said, and my cheeks flushed red.

      “I’m sorry?”

      “How did you like your Tie Me to the Bed Post?”

      “Oh. Yeah, it's good.”

      “Does this mean I’ll get your number?”

      “No, but you can give me yours.” I beamed at him fishing my phone from my purse. He gave me his number, and I texted him. He pulled out his phone and nodded a little before slipping it back into his front pocket.

      “Do you need something from the kitchen? Your standard day drinking order, maybe?”

      “Yes, and it’s on me. Because Aaron’s husband is a twat nozzle who’s boinking some low rent Justin Bieber knockoff,” I said before taking another sip.

      “Alright, I’ll be right back.”

      “Holy fuck, Emma. I wish I could be a black belt in flirt fu like you.” Paige laughed a bit.

      “It’s a gift and a curse.” I beamed at her and peered down the bar at Aaron. “You okay there, champ?”

      “What do you guys think about marriage counseling?” He sighed staring down at his glass.

      “No! No! No! No!...No!” Paige even shook her head for added benefit. “When Mark was banging his secretary that was the first thing we did. Counseling… now ask yourself am I married now? No. I’m two years divorced and damn proud.”

      “Want me to get Jasper to come back and make his pecs dance?” I nodded towards the door to the kitchen.

      “Maybe after a few more drinks,” he mumbled. Paige leaned her head on his shoulder.

      “You’ll get through this. He might not even be cheating; it might be purely emotional. Kind of like what Mark accused us of.”

      “Darlin’, I’m sorry. Here I am moping without thinking about all the bad memories this is dredging up for you.” He put his hand on the back of Paige’s head.

      “It’s fine. That’s ancient history.” She waved dismissively. “But if it comes down to it, I’ll be there for you like you were there for me.”

      Rolling my eyes, I finished off my drink. That was why I didn’t do the serious relationship thing. Fuck having your heart ripped out. I’d watched it happen so many times I was just over the entire concept of monogamy. The band started warming up, and Jasper returned carrying a basket of cheese sticks. Beside me, Aaron started crying, and I panicked inside. I wasn’t as close to him as Paige was so not even Jasper shirtless carrying deep fried cheese could make me stay. As Jasper set the basket on the table, I snagged one before grabbing a fifty out of my wallet and placing it on the bar.

      “Going so soon?” Jasper asked, his face just awash with disappointment.

      “Yeah…I just remembered that I have stuff to do. I’ll cover the food and their drinks so far, if there’s anything left take it. If there’s nothing left, just text me and I’ll bring you something next time.”

      “Oh.” He frowned.

      Glancing at Aaron’s tearstained face, I opened my mouth to say something but closed it. I wanted to be a good person, to be there for him like Paige was, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t built that way. Maybe one day I would be, but at that moment I didn’t have it in me to attend the pity party.

      “I’ve gotta go. For what it’s worth Aaron, he’s the king of the dicks if he doesn’t realize what a great guy you are.” I patted him on the back.

      “Are we still on for shopping tomorrow?” Paige asked.

      “Yeah.”

      “Bye, Em. I’m sorry about this.” Aaron added frowning.

      “Don’t be sorry. Get really drunk… and then confront him. And if he denies it and you find solid proof… I’ll help you hide the bodies.”  My little outburst won me a chuckle from both Aaron and Paige. That was my cue to leave. I had sat with Paige during her divorce a bit, but she knew I wasn’t comfortable enough with that sort of thing. I just didn’t get why they didn’t leave when they found out proof they were cheating. The whole thing just seemed bizarre to me—but cheating did too. Why stay if you’re so unhappy you find someone else, why try and salvage something so broken.

***

      That night I sat in my apartment nervously checking my phone while watching television. Everyone was busy, it was Monday, no one ever wanted to do anything on Mondays. I even thought about returning to Triple T. It was essentially a given that Paige and Aaron would still be there. They could drink for hours and Monday was when they had the Madonna impersonators with the live band playing backup. Occasionally we stayed until close after slipping out at lunch.

      Sitting alone in my empty apartment I sometimes wondered what it would be like to have an actual boyfriend. I hadn’t had once since I was sixteen, and even then I ended it when I thought they were getting ready to end it with me. Sighing and glancing about those thoughts only served to steel my resolve not to get seriously involved with anyone. In a way I was broken, and it wouldn’t be fair to drag someone into my emotional mess. Instead, I’d have my fun and keep the neuroses to myself and my friends.

      It was that dedication to fun that made me tussle my long copper locks, reseat my breasts in my bra for maximum cleavage and Skype Jasper. He answered quickly, way quicker than I thought he would. I was used to the traditional thing that guys did when they made you wait to make you think they had something more interesting going on; when in reality they had near to pissed themselves when they noticed you had called. That, however, wasn’t Jasper. He answered near immediately, smiling into his camera all beachy blonde hair and blue eyes. He had a shirt on, which was somewhat disappointing, and seemed to be laying on a couch with a grumpy looking white longhaired cat in his lap.

      “Hey, I didn’t think you’d call so soon,” he confessed with a shy little smile.

      “Oh?”

      “Yeah, I kind of didn’t think you’d call me. I mean…you left kind of in a hurry.”

      “Do you want the ugly parts out in the open now?”

      “I find it really hard to believe that there’s anything ugly about you.”

      “What a line. God, you flirt better than I do.”

      He shrugged. “What can I say, it’s an occupational hazard. But it’s not a line, and this isn’t me flirting.”

      “What is it then?”

      “Honesty.”

      “Honesty?” I giggled.

      “Yeah. Bartenders know their patrons.”

      “You never knew my drink.”

      “No, I did. I’d screw it up just to talk to you more. You like black cherry mojitos with Cruzan black cherry rum, and extra cherries. Unless you’ve had a particularly hard day, then it’s shots of tequila. And when you’re just socially drinking it’s Moscato.”

      “Bravo. Well… what else do you know about me?”

      “You’re a good person, and kind hearted. You don’t have commitment issues, but you don’t like the idea of relationships. I think you try to act tough, but the reality is, deep down inside, you want to be loved.”

      “And you’re the guy to do it, huh?”

      “I want to try.” He scratched his cat behind the ears, and it started purring.

      “Aren’t you afraid of getting hurt?”

      “Honestly?”

      “That would be good.”

      “A little. But I’ve been trying to get the courage to ask you out for the better part of six months.”

      “I somehow find that hard to believe.”

      “Well, it the truth. It’s not that I lack confidence it’s just that…you’re really intimidating.”

      “I’m five foot nothing practically.”

      “Yeah, well you also have that whole ‘I don’t date, I fuck’ thing.”

      I winced recalling the hundreds of times I had sat at the bar and said those exact words when talking to Paige. “I was being dramatic.”

      “I know, I’m well aware that you’re not the type of person to have an endless string of one nighters. That doesn’t stop you from being daunting. I thoroughly expect to get hurt, but I’m okay with that. I want to get to know you better, and I’m more than willing to endure whatever to accomplish that.”

      “You know the Wizard of Oz?”

      “I work in a drag bar. I’m fairly familiar with it, yes.”

      “True… Well, there’s that scene when they finally reach the Great and Powerful Oz. There he is a projected face on that green velvet with all of the fire and smoke. But all of that is an illusion, and the true wizard is just some sad old man behind a curtain.”

      “Yeah. But in the end, the Wizard gave them all that they needed and wanted all along. I never saw him as a sad, old man. To me, he was someone wise and kind who was afraid to show people the real him.”

      “You’re an optimist.”

      “Mhm.” That lazy noise that left his lips made me smirk happily.

      “Want to come over and drink some wine?”

      “I… I’m a bit old-fashioned. I won’t sleep with someone until after the third date.”

      I gaped at him and sighed. “Alright, when do you want to have our first?”

      “Tomorrow? I get off at six.”

      “I can’t tomorrow. I’m shopping with Paige, and then I have a date already.”

      “Oh.” He looked so crestfallen, those big baby blues brimmed with sadness like I had just kicked his puppy.

      “How about we grab coffee after I get off work? There’s that place across the street in the Bronson Center. Just coffee.”

      “Alright then, it’s a date.”

      “Good.”

      “I didn’t forget about what I asked,” he tacked on making me scrunch my nose a little. “Oh, that’s adorable.”

      “Well, you know what? Fuck it. I’ll tell you the truth. I left because I don’t…” Falling silent I winced as my cat jumped on my shoulder. Saved by the Grumpkin. I scratched under his chin and thought about it for a while. “I’m a little broken like that. I don’t understand how they feel. I don’t understand why they even want to make it work. Paige and I stopped talking for a while when she first found out Mark was cheating. I think the first thing I said when she told me was that he clearly didn’t love her like she thought.”

      “Ouch.”

      “Well… what should I have said?”

      “Anything but that?” He chuckled, and I paused my fingers mid-pet making Grumpkin meow in protest.

      “There. I figured better for me to leave and keep my mouth shut than have the inevitable fall out.”

      “What’s the inevitable?”

      “That, unfortunately, Aaron’s husband doesn’t really love him. If he did, he wouldn’t have cheated.”

      “That’s harsh.”

      “It’s the truth.”

      “I prefer to think of it another way… but that’s only because I have personal experience with it.”

      “Ah.”

      “Yeah. I was married when I was in my 20s.”

      “Which one of you cheated?”

      “She did.” His voice was tight, and I instantly regretted asking. “I’d like to think that she loved me, maybe not at the end but I’d like to think I didn’t throw away five years of my life.” He smiled. “There’s that face again.”

      “I’m sorry.”

      “It’s fine. It’s been over a decade. Have you ever been cheated on?”

      “No. But, it’s hard to be cheated on when you don’t consider yourself committed to your partners. I do my thing, and they do theirs.”

      “Have you ever wanted to try it another way?”

      “Why?”

      “To experience love?”

      “Wow, you are an optimist. And I’ve experienced love. It’s that feeling you get right before orgasm.”

      He laughed. “That’s not love.”

      “Alright then, what’s love?”

      “Love is…wanting to wrap yourself in another person, faults and all.”

      “Oh god! You really are a romantic! How did that happen? Aren’t guys that look like you supposed to be total jackasses?”

      “What’s wrong with being a romantic?”

      “Nothing, but… you’re… I’m sorry. Have you seen you? You look like you should spend your time laying on a beach somewhere with a surfboard. Guys who look like you tend to be the biggest dicks of them all. You’re supposed to say what I say, not sigh romantically.”

      Again he chuckled, nervously running his fingers back through his blond locks. “I even read romance novels,” he whispered scandalously.

      “Do you like to envision yourself the knight in shining armor, saving the Lady from the angry Baron?”

      “Wow, I take it you’ve only read ones from the eighties?”

      Smirking I spied a familiar well-read book behind him on the table. It was a paperback copy of Pride and Prejudice with a bookmark in it no less. “Well…that and I did read Pride and Prejudice in College.”

      “Did you like it?”

      “Did you?” I quirked a brow almost unable to keep the laughter from my voice.

      “How do you know I read it?”

      “Look behind you.”

      He turned around, and with a wince snatched the book off screen. “It was…”—he cleared his throat—“it was good.” He was the color of a tomato as he kept glancing down at the book unable to look at me.

      “It’s okay, your secret’s safe with me. I won’t fault you for your lady porn.” My phone beeped warning me that my battery was low. Grumbling I swiped the menu down to turn on the battery saver, only to discover that it was four in the morning. “Fuuuuck,” I hissed under my breath.

      “What’s wrong?”

      “It’s four in the fucking morning.”

      “Shit.”

      “I have to go. I sit in a dark room all day if I don’t get some sleep I’m going to pass out at my desk.”

      “Okay. Uhh… I really enjoyed this.”

      “Yeah, me too.” We stared at each other for a moment. “Good night I guess.”

      “Sweet dreams.”

      “Really? Sweet dreams? Are you real? Or some kind of robot sent to harvest unsuspecting women’s organs?”

      He chuckled and licked his lips. “I can assure you, I’m one hundred percent real and one hundred percent human. I’ll see you tomorrow…umm, later today.”

      “You know this is the first time I’ve sat up all night with a man that didn’t involve… well…” I grinned.

      “Really?”

      “Yeah. It’s a little weird.”

      “Good weird I hope.”

      “Okay, we can call it good weird.”

      “I kind of don’t want to end the call.”

      “We don’t have much of a choice, my phone’s about to die.”

      “Alright then, see you at six?”

      “Yup, six. Night.” I hit the button to end the call just in time for my phone to finally give up the ghost. For a while I just laid there staring at the ceiling, processing the eight-hour conversation. Moving Grumpkin to his favorite spot on the couch I couldn’t help but to think about Jasper. I wasn’t the type of girl a romantic should date. I didn’t want to hurt him, not only was he nice but he also made the best black cherry mojitos. I’d need to find another bar if it went sour. Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to coffee. Ah well, what’s done is done.

Chapter Two

     Two hours of sleep, that’s all I had before my alarm blared in my ear and I was forced to start my day. Grumpkin jumped on my chest, knocking the air from my lungs and preventing me from going back to sleep even after I swatted the snooze button.

      After showering, dressing, grabbing an apple out of the fridge and feeding the ungrateful fluffy wretch, better known as Grumpkin, I was out the door in time to catch the seven fifteen bus. I actually fell asleep while eating my apple, with my head pressed against the vibrating bus window. The fruit rolled out of my hand, hit my knee and tumbled down the seats. Blinking I looked around with a start, I had missed my stop.

      “Fuck,” I grumbled, pulling myself to standing. I got off at the next stop and then ran down the street towards the enormous black glass and steel building that had Keller embossed into the gleaming metal above the entrance. This was not going to be a good day. I’d be lucky if I made it through the day, let alone shopping with Paige; coffee with Jasper and my date tonight were almost certainly going to be interrupted by me passing out.

      “Double shot of espresso,” I somehow groaned to the barista.

      “Long night?” The girl asked. It was clearly her summer job, she had that look about her that said: “Hi, I’m in high school and haven’t had the life sucked out of me by responsibly.” I hated her youth and the fact that she looked happy at a quarter to eight in the morning. I practically threw my money at her.

      “Nope, I just do a lot of meth.” I snatched the paper cup from her, leaving the peppy blonde to gawk at me in confusion as I stuffed a dollar in the tip jar before zombie-ing off towards the elevator. Paige walked up wearing sunglasses, she probably looked as bad as I did.

      “Why are mornings so bright?” she whispered rubbing her temples.

      “Proximity to the sun.”

      “Smart ass. Fuck me, I feel awful. Why did I drink so much?” The elevator doors opened, and we stepped on.

      “I don’t know… just like I don’t know how you’re going to meet your deadlines today. I know I’m probably going to fall asleep at my desk.”

      “Day drinking takes dedication, my friend. So why were you up so late?”

      “Jasper.”

      “Oh? How was he?”

      “Not like that you perv!” I rolled my eyes. “We talked.”

      “You…talked?” She lowered her glasses for a moment in disbelief.

      “Yes.”

      “And then he came over right?”

      “Nope.”

      “I’m sorry… are you feeling okay?”

      “No. I’m fucking exhausted.” The elevator beeped and again the doors opened revealing the fancy glass doors with the Keller and Price logo with fancy silver cursive letters that read “Marketing Department, A- F.”

      “Well, coffee. We’re going shopping.” She opened the door.

      “I remember, and I’ve already started.” I held up the hot cup in my hands.

      “Alrightie!” She gave me a thumbs up before splitting off from me, walking toward the bank of copywriter offices.

      When I got to my office my phone buzzed. I ignored it as I closed my door and shut my blinds casting the already dark office into almost pitch blackness. The only light was the unavoidable cool blue glow from the monitor. Snatching the throw from the black leather couch I collapsed into my desk chair, setting my coffee on the desk. I was essentially determined not to answer my phone. After entering my login, I checked my e-mails and discovered that my absence yesterday went completely unnoticed. In fact, the director didn’t even get back to me about the mock up I had sent them before I ducked out. Sighing again I finally pulled out my phone to check the buzz. It was a text message from Raven, the singer and guitarist from the Rock Band Specter. I almost didn’t check it. I’d see him tonight; what more did he want from me?

      [Miss u cant wait 4 2nite ;)] read the message.

      [You know I hate text speak.] I replied, before opening up the file on the computer that had all of the due dates for the projects I was working on.

      [Sorry babe. Still on for tonight?]

      [Yeah]

      [I brought you something from Tokyo]         

      [It better not be VD] I responded as I started surfing through stock images for a cover.

      [Ha Ha I got you a jacket like mine]

      I honestly couldn’t remember what jacket he was talking about. [That’s great!]

      [My flight gets in early. Want to meet at four?]

      I stared at my phone for a while. It wasn’t a question of telling him I had a date with someone else. He knew I was seeing other people, and he admitted that it bothered him a little but he got it—or so he liked to tell me.

      [I’m getting coffee with someone at six]

      [Oh.] And then there was silence. For twenty minutes I was able to surf through the images unencumbered by conversation. [Narcisse?]

      I laughed a little, Narcisse was the other guy I was seeing. He was a Painter, and Raven hated him. He met him once and told me not five minutes after that Narcisse was a jackass who didn’t deserve me. So I placated him with truth. [No. Someone new.]

      [Alright as long as you’re done by 8.]

      [Cross my heart.]

      [Alright. Dinner at my place?]

      [Does this mean you’ll cook for me?]

      [You know it, babe. I missed you. You know how I get when I’m away.]

      [Clingy.]

      [I promise this won’t be like last time. So who’s the new guy?]

      [The bartender at Triple T.]

      [For the free booze? :P]

      [I’m going back to work now! :P]

      [Okay babe. Kisses. Miss you]

      [Miss you too.] Even as I pressed send I wondered if I actually meant it. I stared at my reflection in the screen after my phone went into sleep mode. Sighing I tossed my phone on my desk. As I returned to working on my relentless image search, I pushed the thoughts about my…whatever I had with Raven from my mind.

***

      The day went by quickly, before I knew it quitting time rolled around. Paige flung open the door to my office; clearly, the hangover had passed—I was still exhausted. Grumbling I downed the last of my sixth cup of coffee. If I weren't meeting Raven, I wouldn’t have gone with Paige. But I liked dressing up for him. I couldn’t explain it, but I always felt compelled to look nice for him. With Narcisse it was different. With him I always wanted to be nude—it was probably the French accent. But with Raven, it was always sexy black satin and lace.

      Fifteen minutes later we were in the old timey mall. It was one of those old Victorian shopping plazas with the high glass ceilings with elaborate wrought iron rafters like a greenhouse. Here they filled the whole thing plants everywhere so it mimicked what it looked like when it first opened almost two hundred years before. It was three blocks from work and full of little boutiques, and a few chain stores.

      Paige and I were in Victoria’s Secret. It was kind of a given that we’d end up there. Last time we went shopping at one of the boutiques I spent entirely too much money, and Paige couldn’t even bring herself to buy a thong because everything was so expensive.

      “You should get something for your third date with Jasper,” Paige suggested as she picked up a lime green bra off of a rack, inspecting the little pink ribbon accents closer.

      “Like what? I don’t know what he likes. I know what He likes.” I didn’t say Raven’s name in public. After having a really awkward encounter with a teenage girl two years ago, I decided to err on the side of caution, as to not get ripped apart by rabid teenagers with entirely too much eyeliner on and those pyramid belts they always wore looked like they’d hurt.

      “Why don’t you just call him Sebastian?”

      “Because I’ve only known him as…” I gestured.

      “Well to me he’ll always be Sebastian; the little punk ass emo bitch who babysat me when I was ten and cried when I burned his book of poetry.” She beamed at me.

      “Don’t act like you don’t like him now.”

      “You’re right, he’s not that bad…now. He’s way, way, way, way more likable than your mysterious Narcisse. Who I still haven’t met even though I’m your best friend, and you’ve been seeing him for what a year now? Two?”

      “Something like that.”

      “You should drop him for Jasper. And I’m not just saying that because he’s going to give us free booze now.”

      “Did he give you guys free stuff last night?”

      “We got an order he screwed up.”

      “I’m glad it benefited you.” I smirked at her and pulled a tight fitting black lace teddy off of another rack. Just one look at it and I knew it would drive Raven wild.

      “Are you ready for coffee with Jasper?”

      “I don’t know. Maybe? I think I’ve said more to him already than I have to any other guy I’ve seen in the last three years.”

      “That’s not very hard to do. You just kind of grunt at them and point to the bed.” She teased me and I shot her a glare. “You know what I mean. So what did you guys talk about?”

      “Stuff.” I clipped out turning my attention back to a rack of patina colored satin bras covered in little white polka dots. I liked it, the color was pretty. As I gazed down at the shiny fabric I tried to recall the last time I bought lingerie just for myself. It was kind of sad, but nothing came to mind that was recent.

      “Stuff?” Paige’s voice broke my train of thought, making me twitch. “So… what’s his favorite position?” She flashed me a smile.

      “Oh, fuck you!” I reached into the thong bin and threw a pink lacy pair at her head. “That’s not what we talked about!”

      “Then what did you talk about?”

      “Love.” I sighed and she chortled.

      “Love? Isn’t that the worst four letter word to you?”

      “No.”

      “What did you do the last time a guy you were with told you he loved you.”

      My eyes darted off to the side for a moment. “I kind of left…”

      “Left where and how again, remind me.”

      “I kind of… slipped out of his bathroom window after sex,” I mumbled keeping my voice just above inaudible.

      “Yeah, but how did you leave exactly?”

      Sighing, I glanced around the store. “I shimmied down a drainpipe,” I muttered shifting uncomfortably. It was not my proudest moment, and Paige brought it up again and again to prove a point. She thought I was terrified of commitment, but that wasn’t the case at all.

      “From the fourth fucking floor.”

      “To be fair, the top level of the parking garage was right there.”

      “That doesn’t change the fact that well-adjusted adults tend not to repel down the side of buildings like Batman to avoid the fact that someone they slept with said that they loved them. I adore you, Emma. But you’re a mess; a beautiful, red-headed mess.”

      I ran my fingers through my hair, glancing down at the lingerie draped over my arm. She had a point. I might have hated her for it a little, but it was a valid observation. I did have a problem.

      “Maybe I am.” I shrugged. My brows knit as I stared out of the store into the mall beyond and the couples walking around holding hands. Did I want that? “Maybe I should cancel on Jasper?”

      “Oh god. Em, I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

      “Whatever way you meant it you made a good point. I shouldn’t be with someone like him. I just shouldn’t. I should barely be with someone like Him. It’s not fair to them.”

      “And what about Narcisse?”        

      “He…” I scratched my neck. “He’s like me. I didn’t have to explain it to him, he just got it. So I don’t feel guilty with him. But… Him, and now Jasper… especially Jasper.”

      “Narcisse sounds like a jackass, sweetie. With everything you’ve told me about him…you’re probably a side bitch.”

      I chortled. “Side bitch?”

      “Mhm.”

      Again, I opened my mouth to laugh at the absurdity of the notion, but ultimately doubt made me close it.

      “I’m going to check out.” I elected to say instead, turning to start my way to the register.

      “Oh! I’m sorry, Em. You know I didn’t mean it like that,” Paige whined.

      “I know,” I sang as I set the hangers on the counter.

      “You need someone like Jasper. I’m team Jasper all the way. I’m even going to make a little pennant to wave whenever you see the others. I’m going to tweet you every day with hashtag team Jasper.”

      “There are no teams. I don’t do relationships. I casually see people; this has been well established. Stop trying to change me, woman!” I turned and stuck my tongue out at her.

      “Oh, you’re going to have a relationship. Do it for me!”

      “Do what for you?”

      “Jasper!”

      “I don’t know… I feel guilty.”

      “Do you like Jasper?”       

      “I think that’s why I feel guilty. One conversation shouldn’t change someone this much! It’s like I’m losing my fucking mind.” The clerk shot me a dirty look and rolled my eyes.

      “I wish I could help you, sweetie. I really do.” Paige patted my back and I shrugged her hand away.

      “You know what? I’m making a big fucking”—I yelled that one word, then flashed the clerk a smile before turning back to Paige—“deal out of nothing.”

      “Maybe. But if anyone one can shimmy down the proverbial drain pipe to escape this problem, it’s you.”

      “Damn straight. So how goes the online dating?” 

      “I gave up. When did all of the interesting men become such dicks?”

      “They’ve always been dicks. The best you can hope for is someone hot enough that they distract you from how much of a complete and utter dick they are.”

      “Fuck, I wish Jasper had given me his number.”

      “Me too.” We shared a laughed.

***

      Minutes later I found myself standing inside of the Bronson Building staring at the shiny silver handle on the door to the coffee shop. It was so much nicer than the one in our building, it had couches and fancy ceramic mugs with designs on them. I think it was the only non-chain coffee place downtown. It had that locally owned business appeal that dragged in the hipsters who wanted to pat themselves on the back as well as the students from the local art college. The price wasn’t bad, and the coffee was pretty good. They had been a staple in the area for years. During my wayward youth, my friends thought we were so cool when we went for coffee at the Bronson before seeing a movie or going shopping.

      Now I avoided it for the most part unless I wanted to sell something on craigslist. It was the most public of public places; noisy and filled with entirely too many people. Today was no exception. The buzz of the place and the clink of the cups and the hissing whirr of the expresso machine filled the air with such a cacophony of noise I could hardly hear myself think. I glanced around to see if Jasper had shown up yet. He was on a couch in the corner with a book in hand as a pretty girl with expertly curled mousy blonde hair chatted with him.

      Just looking at them made me feel uncharacteristically jealous. Still, I didn’t walk straight over, no I got another double espresso and watched them for a little as I nursed the piping hot coffee. They looked right together, like Barbie and Ken. Yes, that was it exactly… Beach-Bimbo Barbie and Surfer-Douche Ken. I almost felt bad about describing Jasper that way—almost. He just looked like someone who was too sexy to not be a complete and utter asshole. As he sat there in his ripped jeans and blue t-shirt stretched tight over his hard physique; he looked like someone who called people bro.  Or better yet, like the modern version of the head of the frat that harassed the geeks in an 80s movie.

      In other words, he looked like the type of person who never had to develop a personality because they were too good looking. And the girl who took the seat beside him looked like the female version. I bet she owned a tiny dog with a cutesy name like Sprinkles or Sparkle or Tinker Bell. They kind of looked like they deserved each other.

      As I casually observed them, I toyed with the notion of simply leaving. I was still tired, I could use the two hours to get a nap in before going to meet Raven, as it stood I was probably going to pass out in the middle of sex.  But in the end, I decided to be smart and text him.

      [Hey. Want to reschedule?] I sent as I watched him smile at that giggling blonde. He jumped and snatched the phone out of his pocket almost instantly.

      [No. I’m here already]

      [Oh.]

      [Yeah, I got here early even. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day. :)]

      [How have you been passing the time?]

      [Some girl has been throwing herself at me since I sat down. Save me?]

      [Since you asked so nicely.] I replied as I started to walk towards him.

      The moment I neared the blonde glared at me. She was the perky barista from the Keller building. I didn’t give her the satisfaction of turning my full attention on her. No, my eyes were all for Jasper as without a word I set my coffee down on the nearby table covered in magazines and straddled his powerful thighs, wrapping my arms around his neck. Tiny adorable noises of indignation caught in the blonde’s throat as Jasper stared up at me with lust darkened eyes.

      “Excuse me? Can’t you see we were talking?” The blonde snapped, but I kept my attention fixed on Jasper.

      “Sorry I’m late, baby. But I bought some goodies for later to make it up to you.” I purred breathily as I held up the Victoria’s Secret bag. The blonde gaped at me like she couldn’t comprehend what she was looking at.

      “I… I guess I’ll see you later then. Call me okay? You know what they say, Blondes are more fun.” Then, like someone waved a magic bitch-be-gone wand she wasn’t there anymore, and the villagers rejoiced…too much?

      Once we were more or less alone, I slipped from Jaspers lap, tugged my skirt back down and snatched my coffee back up.

      “Everybody gets one,” I giggled before taking a sip of my double expresso.

      He shifted a bit as he pulled one of the big pillows into his lap to hide his obvious erection. Not only was he gorgeous he was also hung.

      “Thanks. I tried to let her down easy, but she wouldn’t take a hint.”

      “Yeah, I could see that.”

      “How did you sleep?”

      “Worse than you clearly. Dare I say you look refreshed.”

      “I’m exhausted.” He laughed a bit. “I got… four hours I think.”

      “Two here. But… I think I might have reached the perfect level of caffeine to stave off passing out.”

      “I wish I could say the same. How was work?”

      “Boring, but I finished up all my projects.”

      “Well, at least you were productive.”

      “What about you?”

      “I was groped by my new bar-back.”

      “Wow, sexually harassed twice in one day. New record?”

      He laughed. “Are you forgetting where I work? You should have seen my chest and back after the last time the male revue came through. I looked like I had fallen into the lion pit at the zoo… which wasn’t far from the truth. Speaking of which, it’s coming back so we probably won’t see much of each other for a bit unless you come in.”

      “Oh… why?”

      “I get paid extra for those days. Two weeks of sixteen-hour shifts.”

      “Ouch. And that, my friend, is why I went to college.”

      “It’s not so bad.” He shrugged. “I like people. But I don’t plan on doing this forever. I know I’m holding up well, but I’m thirty-four. My eye-candy days are coming to a close in the next ten years.”

      “I highly fucking doubt that.” I giggled before taking another sip of my coffee.

      “You have the greatest laugh. Did you know that?”

      “What a line.”

      “It’s not a line. I mean it.”

      “Whatever you say.” I shook my head a little and sighed.

      “So what’s in the bag?” He nodded toward the big pink and white striped bag.

      “Things that don’t concern a romantic like yourself.” I teased.

      “C’mon, I might be a romantic but I’m still male.”

      “Oh, I know. Trust me I felt how male you were when I was in your lap.”

      “Sorry.” He blushed. Seriously, his cheeks colored the cutest shade of pink.

      “No reason to apologize.”

      Over the speaker the bland alternative that seemed to play in every coffee house pulsed the first few chords of The Smith’s iconic How Soon is Now, and Jasper’s face lit up like a virgin seeing their first set of tits.

      “I love this song,” he breathed.

      “Want to dance to it?”

      “What?”

      “Do you want to dance?” I asked setting my coffee down again.

      “Uhhh… this isn’t exactly the place is it?”

      “If they didn’t want people to dance, they shouldn’t have played music. Dance with me,” I demanded as I stood. In the little space between the couch and table, I slowly started to sway my hips in time to the beat.

      After a few seconds, he joined me and we danced together close and slow as the other patrons stared at us like we were mental patients. I hardly noticed them, to be honest, I was far more aware of that tension between Jasper and I as we navigated the first date space. That stiffness that makes it hard to decide just how much you’re allowed to touch the other person. I didn’t have that problem; I was a woman with few boundaries. He, however, was a different story entirely. I could tell he wanted to touch me just by the way his hands barely brushed against my hips.

      Given how absolutely gentlemanly he was, I had to make the first move. With a caress, I guided his hands to my hips. The weight and heat of his touch made my skin break out in gooseflesh as I contemplated the feel of that heat and heaviness over my bare skin. Damn him and damn his fucking mother for raising a fucking gentleman.

      Once the song was over he lingered close to me staring at my mouth like he wanted to kiss me, I raised to close the distance…and he kissed my fucking cheek. I twitched. It was hard to hide my bubbling frustration as I twisted from his grasp and snatched my coffee back up. Nope, I shouldn’t be with him.

      Flopping back down on the couch I crossed my legs and glanced at my smart watch. I had fifteen minutes before it was time for me to leave. At least Raven wouldn’t pussy out of kissing me.

      “So I take it you don’t kiss on the first date either?” I asked keeping my gaze on the far side of the coffee house.

      “Is that bad?”

      I wanted to shake him, to slap him and scream in his face that this was the 21st fucking century. Instead, I took a deep breath and stood.

      “No, it’s just not…what I’m used to.” I shrugged and tried to keep that slim thread of anger from my voice. I failed miserably.

      “You’re not going to want a second date are you?”

      I sighed. “I might. We’ll see how I feel after your two weeks of being mauled by the Cougars.” Flashing him a smile I stood and righted my skirt.

      “Why do I feel like I should apologize?”

      “Don’t. We can be nothing but ourselves and sometimes no matter how amazing someone seems they’re just not compatible with us at are most…selfness…selfy-ness? I dunno, I tripped all the fuck over that but you get what I mean.”

      “Yeah.” He licked his lips, and those kissable lips turned down at the corners in a frown that made me almost want to take back what I had said…almost. “For what it’s worth I’m enjoying hanging out with you…minus these last two minutes.”

      “Me too, but…I dunno. I don’t want to pressure you into anything and I’m… I’m so fast I’m lightspeed.”

      “I knew that going into this. I just thought…”

      “That I just needed the right guy to slow down, and you were it?”

      “Something like that.”

      “Yeah, I figured. Want me to get the blonde back?”         

      “No, she’s not my type.”

      “Well, what is your type?”

      “Smart, slightly insane redheads with great olive skin that are way faster than I am.”

      “Ha!”

      “What about you?”

      “I don’t have a type.”

      “Everyone has a type.”

      “Really? Well, what was your ex-wife like? Was she a smart, crazy redhead?”

      “Nope. She was a high maintenance blonde who liked to complain about my lack of ambition.”

      “See! The blonde was your type!” I teased.

      “Nah, I’m older now and I know what I like.”

      “Which is apparently moving at a snail’s pace.”

      “Sex on the third date isn’t a snail’s pace.”

      “Not kissing on the first date is like… canyon pace.”

      “Canyon pace?”

      “Mhm. It took the Colorado River a few million years to carve out the Grand Canyon, that’s you.”

      “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

      “You can take it however you like to.”

      “Slow can be worth it; think about how lasting and beautiful the Grand Canyon is. Fire’s nice, explosions are kind of pretty, but they’re all over in a few hours tops. So yeah… I’m okay with moving Canyon pace.” Just like that, he took all of my frustration and anger and quieted it. All I could do was smile at him. “But you didn’t answer me, what’s your type?” Why did he have to be so fucking smart?

      “I never thought about it.”

      “Never?”

      “Nope. I’ve had a string of partners but never anything serious so it’s never been something I’ve really thought about. If I don’t like someone I just move on, I try not to get attached I guess.”

      “Well, what makes you run screaming for the hills?”

      “Stupid people…infidelity.”

      “Infidelity?” He raised his eyebrows.

      “Yes, why is that so hard to believe?”

      “You’re going on another date after this.”

      “I guess I said that wrong. I just meant like, I don’t like to be used to cheat with. I’m not a homewrecker. If I’m with someone who’s just kind of dating around I’m okay, that’s not cheating but no one married—not even guys in open relationships. Also, I don’t like when I get lied to. If you’re going to see someone else, that’s fine but don’t fucking lie about it.”

      “I’m going to tell you now I don’t plan on dating anyone else.”

      “You should. Who knows, you might find someone who’s looking for a real relationship.”

      “I think you are, but you just don’t know it yet.”

      “You don’t know me well enough to make that assumption.” I pointed at him and then finished my coffee.

      “Really? You keep forgetting I’m your bartender! I’ve heard you bitch and moan about your revolving door for the better part of the last year. I just think you haven’t found anyone you like enough. But that’s just my opinion, and you know what they say, opinions are like assholes everyone’s got one.”

      “Was that a joke?” I giggled.

      “I believe it was, yes.” He grinned at me. I collapsed back against the back of the couch thinking. Staring at my black work heels, I flexed my foot and watched as my heel popped out of the patent leather confines. Scrunching my face, I pursed my lips. Damn. He might have been right. I glanced at my watch; I was going to be late to Raven’s.

      “I’ve gotta go.”

      “It wasn’t what I said was it?”

      “No, it’s seven thirty. I’m going to be late as it stands.”

      “Oh.”

      Standing I smoothed my skirt and stretched. After a moment I held my hand out to him and smirked.

      “I’d offer you a hug but I wouldn’t want to offend your delicate sensibilities.”

      “A hug’s fine.” He stood and pulled me into his arms. He was so warm I practically melted against his hard chest. In the relaxing cocoon of his embrace, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to take him home, spend the night with him; to trace those tattoos with my tongue to make his breath catch as I dug my fingers into those well-muscled shoulders the throws of passion.

      Reluctantly I broke from him, taking a step back I waved.

      “I’ll see you around,” I said trying my damnedest to keep my breathing even.

      “The Revue starts Thursday, I’ll leave your name with the bouncer if you want to drop by and see me.”

      “I might swing by Friday.”

      “Alright…enjoy your date.”

      “Thanks.”

***

      After leaving Jasper, I almost didn’t want to go see Raven. Still, I went home, changed and headed back downtown to Raven’s entirely too expensive penthouse. I had second thoughts all the way up the elevator. Damn Jasper. As I glared at my reflection in the glass, all I could think of was why I was there and the worst part of it was that I didn’t even know why I was there in the first place. Was it sex? Was I only there because I wanted a good lay? Never before had I felt bad about seeing Raven. I had a few guilty feelings while seeing Narcisse, but never Raven. But there those thoughts were as the doors swung open to reveal the ominously tall, dark wood door that led to his place. For a moment I hesitated in the doorway before I drew a deep breath, attempting to leave those second thoughts behind in the elevator—I had no such luck.

      All of it continued even as I knocked on the door. Raven opened it almost instantly like he always did. Unlike Jasper, who wouldn’t kiss me, that was how Raven greeted me. Without a word he closed the distance between us and kissed me right in the doorway. He was vigorous and eager as always, but I just wasn’t into it.

      “Something wrong, Em?”  He breathed as he released me, staring down at me with those cat green eyes ringed with almost as much eyeliner as I wore.

      “Just thinking.”

      “Bad date?” He inquired as he ushered me into the modern art exhibit that was his apartment.

      “No.” I smiled at him, there was something about Raven that made me grin. He was tall, but not as tall as Jasper. Magazines had him listed as being six three, but I knew he was closer to six one. I also knew he wore makeup on stage to make himself look paler than he was, and that he straightened his naturally curly hair.  I think it might have been why I liked looking at him best after sex it was one of those rare moments when he wasn’t a sum of lies.

      “So what’s he like?”

      “Eh.” I shrugged and walked towards the kitchen. Something in the kitchen smelled to die for. I was betting the chef had been hard at work since this afternoon. Whenever Raven said he was going to cook, it always meant his chef would be cooking. He always made a fuss over me…entirely too much of a fuss.

      “Eh? If that were true, you would have kissed me back,” He assessed as he stepped in front of me. “You like him.” I shrugged at his words and he shook his head. “I’m not going to be hurt by it. I met someone in Osaka. Great girl. I’m thinking about flying out to see her after we finish up in the studio.”

      “Does this mean we’re over?”

      “Fuck no. You know how I feel about you.” Stepping behind me he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me back against him. “She doesn’t fuck half as good as you do. And she’s not nearly as pretty as you are.” His arms held me tight against him, trapping me. “She’s just someone fun to pass the time with. Kind of like that guy you were out with and that douche you won’t stop seeing.”

      “Why do you hate Narcisse so much?” I glanced up at him. “I know it’s not jealousy.”

      “Because he’s an asshole, and I know in the end he’s going to hurt you.”

      “He gets me.” I shrugged.

      “I get you.” He kissed my forehead.

      “Do you?” I raised a brow, and he chuckled, his tongue ring clicking against his blue-white veneers.

      “Oh! Before I forget!” he released me and ran off into his bedroom without a second word, leaving me to wander towards the kitchen.

       All along the walls that lead from the living room to the kitchen were guitars and pictures all arranged in a perfect collage. At the end arranged around the last guitar were pictures of a smiling middle-class family complete with a dad that wore glasses a smiling mom who looked like she was prom queen, an awkward teenage girl who favored the mother, an adorable kindergartener with a bowl cut and a gangly emo boy.

      I knew what happened to that happy family. I knew why Raven had the faintest scar that ran from is left temple to his right dimple and a deeper prominent one over his right eye that bisected his eyebrow and was deep enough that he had to use eye drops both in the morning and before he went to sleep.

      Back when Raven was Sebastian Black, a normal gangly sixteen-year-old, his family was on the way back home after watching his sister in a Ballet Recital when a semi hit the SUV, knocking it off of the road and into the ditch. Sebastian was the only survivor, making matters worse, he was also driving when it happened. It broke him in many ways, maybe that was why I saw him, pity. Or, more likely, because he was someone more damaged than I was, with a real reason not to want to be too close to anyone.

      “So my manager is making me see a fucking personal trainer,” Raven complained as he approached from behind me.

      “Really?”

      “Yeah, he said I should start now unless I want to end up losing half of my fan base. I’m no longer the cute dangerous looking boy. I’m a man which means I need to look like a man. What a cunt, right?”

      “He’s looking out for your brand.”

      “I know but…” he sighed and pouted. I turned and found that as always he didn’t even glance at those pictures. I had been around him enough to know that he only looked at then when exceedingly stoned or drunk.

      “It’s not like you don’t already work out; I know abs like those take work.” I poked his taut tummy through his black t-shirt, and he smirked. I was more than well aware that he had a lithe defined body under his tight jeans and black tee; but he wasn’t much larger than I was. He could fit into my pants, and I had a twenty-six-inch waist…which reminded me. “Where are my pants?”

      “They’re in the bag.” He held out a gift bag covered in Hello Kitty. “With the jacket I got you and some other things that made me think of you.”

      “Awe, thanks. You didn’t have to.”

      “I know. But last week I got depressingly homesick and wandered around Harajuku for like six hours. It was crazy. I’m used to getting mobbed but this was just insane. Like a fucking sea of people. The bodyguards made me hide in some store for like an hour and a half at the end because there were too many people. They eventually left but it was kind of scary. I’ve never been scared of a crowd before. It was odd. And I’m kind of glad you shot down my offer. There’d be no way for us to keep things secret if you had come.”

      “Yeah, I figured as much.” Sighing I looked around, suddenly my fight or flight kicked in and I no longer wanted to be there with him. Was I growing up? Fuck Jasper. Fuck him so hard for making me think about more than the fun that would come later. “Mind if I make myself a drink?” Alcohol will cure everything; I would drink until I passed out or until I stopped thinking so damned hard.

      “Sure, you know I don’t mind. Do whatever you like. Mi casa es su casa or whatever.” He flicked his wrist dismissively before leaving me in the hall. I hightailed it to the bar so fast I thought I might have left a trail of flames in my wake.

      Staring at the liquor took my mind back to Jasper. After a few minutes of staring at the bottles behind the bar, I ran my fingers back through my hair and sighed. I wasn’t going to be able to do this.

      “Hey, Raven. I think I’m just going to head home. I’m not feeling too great and I’d hate to get you sick.” I called as I made my way towards the door. Once I hit the living room, I found Raven kneeling on the rug, doing a line of cocaine off of his Kandinsky coffee table book. Classy.

      “Awe, fuck babe. I don’t mind.” He sniffed and wiped his nose. “I’ve wanted you so bad, all I’ve been able to think about all day was your pussy.”

      “Yeah, I’m gonna head out. We’ll do this again another time, okay?”

      “Alright. Okay if I call you tomorrow?”

      “Sure, yeah. Night.”

      “G’night baby,” he said as he watched me head for the door. Once the lock clicked shut behind me I felt a little better.

Chapter Three

      Am I a bad person? The thought haunted me as I stared at my reflection in the foggy bathroom mirror at the Gym. Paige had talked me into going to the twenty-four-hour fitness place with her at some ungodly hour Saturday morning. I was a weirdo, I always showered before and after a work-out. It was just something I did.

      It had been a few days since I had practically run screaming from Raven’s and I had managed to keep it to myself, but that horrible thought refused to leave my head. I had yet to consult others about it, mainly because Aaron had his own problems and I was worried Paige would be too honest. If asked, regardless of if I was or not she’d tell me the truth and that tiny chance that I might, in fact, be a bad person kept me from asking her.

      Sighing I dressed before leaving the sweltering heat of the showers behind me. Paige waited for me by the door all smiles and pink spandex. Of course she was smiling this was her idea. I didn’t think anything good would come from me being around people with the way I felt.

      And then there he was, the gorgeous Jasper, glistening with sweat as he bench pressed what looked to be his own body weight with some equally ripped tattooed guy spotting him. Oh look, it comes in Brunet too. I snickered to myself before I ducked behind a partition and pulled Paige with me.

      “You tricky Bitch!” I hissed at my friend who only laughed at me.

      “Don’t act like you don’t want to see him.”

      “You knew he would be here didn’t you?”

      “Yep. I’m curious about weight lifting and told him I didn’t want to talk to the trainer.”

      “So you didn’t do this to get me to talk to him?”

      “Nope, I had nothing but pure selfish motivations for bringing you here. Though admittedly, I’m after the trainer, his name is Adam. He’s the reason I have a five-year Gym membership. I tried to talk to him… and I ended up with what they call the chump package…also known as the drooling over the trainer like you had a lobotomy package. Discount at the smoothie bar, guest passes and everything else.”

      “Ouch.”

      She grabbed my shoulders. “It was like he knew,” she mock-sobbed playfully, the sound eventually morphing into a devious snicker. “But I’ll show him! One of these days I’ll actually show up for some of those training sessions I’ve booked.”

      “Why don’t you just go to the training sessions. Why do you need to talk to Jasper?”

      “Because I don’t want to seem like an idiot.”

      “Isn’t that what the internet is for?” I quirked a brow.

      “Well…”

      “Why am I here again? You can talk to Jasper without me. You’ve clearly done it before since you know where he works out.”

      “Moral support. Why does it seem like having Jasper here is a problem? Did something happen when you got coffee? You never told me how that went.”

      “There wasn’t really anything to tell. It was coffee.” I shrugged.

      “Really? Is he a bad kisser?”

      “I wouldn’t know.”

      “What?” She raised her voice in disbelief; loud enough that it echoed off of the fucking walls. For a moment I could have sworn that the entire Gym fell silent; no music, no voices, no clank of weights or whirr from the machines just good old fashioned uncomfortable silence.

      “I don’t think I can make that any clearer. We didn’t kiss.”

      “Oh, honey! Was it that bad?”

      “Not particularly…” I shook my head.

      “Then what was it?”

      “He wants to go slow, glacially slow.”

      “I can see the merits in that. He’s a keeper.”

      “That’s also the problem. He likes to talk about love and long-term things, and I’m…”

      “Not used to men who actually might care about you?”

      “Something like that.”

      “Just don’t write him off because of what he wants. It’s time to put on your big girl panties and learn to walk through molasses.”

      “But walk where?”

      “Fuck if I know, but you’ll figure it out. You clearly want to keep seeing him.”

      “How do you know that? I don’t even know that yet.”

      “Because I’ve known you for seven years now. If you didn’t want to see him anymore, you’d be a lot more vocal about it. You’re—for some reason I can’t figure out—afraid of wanting more than you’re used to. But it was bound to happen, Grinchette.”

      “Was it?”

      “Yup, everyone wants to be loved; it’s part of being human.”

      “Blah.”

      “Yeah, it sucks, but that’s living, Chickadee.” She patted my shoulder. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go bother Jasper and ogle Adam. Maybe I’ll ogle Jasper too. Oh, it’s like Christmas!” She giggled as she strutted away, leaving me hiding on the bench under the partition.

      Pulling out my phone I sighed and opened Instagram. I never posted pictures myself, but I liked to stalk other people’s pages—like Jasper’s. Admittedly over the last few days, I had spent entirely too many hours looking at his photos. Most of the pictures were selfies he had taken with that long haired white cat or the standard shot in front of the bathroom mirror. The latest was taken last night at Triple T. It was him standing shirtless in front of the back bar wearing only black pants and silver sequined bow-tie; the light fell perfectly on his chest and abs, highlighting every hard ripple and ridge. The caption read “Missing my Girls but looking forward to meeting some new friends from the 12th to the 26th” below were thousands of comments from people who said they would gladly be his friend and other unanswered attempts at flirting.

      After a few moments of letting out my creepy inner stalker, I tucked my phone into my shorts and walked over to the ellipticals. I climbed on the machine and hit a few buttons. Mindless cardio was what I needed, something to take my attention away from that nagging question of whether or not I was a good person. The machine set the pace, making me focus more on keeping up than anything else so I was treated to a few blissful moments of mental silence. It was so nice, perhaps too nice which was why it came to an end so abruptly as I watched Jasper approach, weaving his way through the other freakish cardio apparatuses.

      Maybe I could go? I turned off the machine, and the fatigue tackled me, the moment the plastic feet stopped moving my legs sagged, leaving me clutching the arms of the machine for dear life. Yeah, I wasn’t going fucking anywhere. Panting I pressed my forehead to the foam.

      “You okay?” Why did he have to be so damned perfect? Why couldn’t he be an ass like every other man that looked that sexy? He wasn’t supposed to care about my wellbeing—though I probably looked like I was dying.

      “Nope, dying,” I said between pants.

      “Need help?” He furrowed those golden brows and reached for me.

      I batted his hand away. “I’m fine.”

      “It’ll help if you put your arms above your head, it opens up the chest.”

       Great. Now he was probably laughing at me in his head. Oh, look at Emilia, can’t even handle twenty minutes of running from her thoughts on the elliptical, what a basic bitch. Who was I kidding, he wouldn’t think anything like that. He was probably genuinely concerned because he was clearly made in a lab from the best parts of every man who had ever lived. It was like he was fucking created from some algorithm that combined every amazing wet dream every woman had ever had between the ages of twenty-five to ninety.

      “If I move, I’m going to fall,” I confessed.  That was when Mr. Perfect did the perfect thing; he flashed me an award winning smile and swept me off of the evil elliptical holding me in a bridal carry like I weighed nothing—be still my heart. He set me down on one of the benches before taking a seat beside me, patiently waiting for me to catch my breath.

      “Here.” He reached under the bench and produced one of those aluminum water bottles that was covered in condensation. I opened the bottle, peering into the dark little opening before taking a few sips. “Feel better?”

      “Kind of, I no longer feel like my lungs are being wrung out by a mangle, but I’m fairly mortified that you had to see me like this.” I laughed nervously and pressed the ice cold bottle to my forehead.

      “Don’t be. I like being able to help.”

      “Paige didn’t tell me you’d be here.”

      “I figured… you’re both really loud.”

      “Oh… you heard that?”

      “Some of it.”

      “I’m sorry, I…” I set the bottle between us and covered my face. “You gave me a lot to think about is all. I would have called, but I’ve spent the last few days trying to figure myself out.”

      “It’s okay I’ve been really busy too. I actually have to leave from here to Triple T. With the Revue it’s kind of nonstop, nine to three A.M every day, with an hour for lunch and dinner.”

      “Ouch. Why aren’t you asleep?”

      “Because I need to get my three days in here so this…” He lifted his shirt, and I’m going to be honest, he kept talking but I didn’t hear a damn word of what else he said; I was too transfixed on those deliciously perfect abs. “Stays the way it is.”

      “Oh. Do you at least live near the Bar?”

      “No, but I have a room at the Blake until the revue leaves. Bambi is feeding Clarence.”

      “Clarence?”

      “Yeah, Clarence T. Cat, who also answers to Fluffykins and hey-you-stop-eating-that.” He grinned dopily, or rather as much as he could, he was walking sex on a stick after all. “We’re only open for four hours tomorrow if you’d like to do something before or after.”

      “You need to sleep.”

      “Who needs sleep?”

      “Sexy men who work tip-based jobs and rely on their smokin’ hotness to help get them bigger tips.”

      “You think I’m sexy?”

      “I’m not blind, and I’m attracted to men. I believe those are the only two criteria needed to think you’re sexy,” I teased sitting up straighter. “I make a wicked BLT with eggs and cheese. How about I bring you a late brunch at… three-ish?”

      “Sure, sounds amazing but no alcohol. I don’t like to drink before work especially with the revue in town.”

      “I’ll bring ginger ale to make you a virgin mimosa.”

      “And I’ll try not to critique your pour.” He nudged me. “It’s room 1216.”

      “So does this count as our second date?”

      “Nope.”

      “Are we in kissing territory yet?”

      “Not yet.”

      “You’re going to make me really work for this shit aren’t you?”

      “I just want to get to know you first.” His phone beeped, and he took it out of his pocket. “Fuck,” he muttered clearing his alarm. “And back I go.”

      “If I stopped by tonight would you be too busy to talk?”

      “Probably, it’s Saturday. This is the busiest day. It’ll probably be pretty dead for the next three hours then again after lunch until seven or so.”

      “Oh, well I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

      “I look forward to it.” He kissed my cheek and took his water bottle back. “I’m glad Paige dragged you along.”

      Wrapping one arm around me he held my sweaty body against his and all it did was make me think of how amazing it would be if we were sweaty for other reasons. He smelled too good, there was something about his natural scent that made me want to strip down and throw myself at his feet. Most guys just smelled funky when they worked out, but not Jasper; no he smelled faintly of cologne, leather, and masculinity. I had to fight myself not to lick that exposed flesh of his arm that was so near my face, but there would be time for that later… just two more dates.

      “Mm, you smell good,” he purred against my damp hair. Instantly, my panties were so wet I was afraid to move incase they squished. I drew the most unflattering and clearly audible shaky breath of all time as my cheeks flushed beet red.

      Why was such a simple phrase having such a profound effect on me? Was this what waiting did? Inside my head, my tiny little voice of reason was replaced by a rabid animal screaming at the top of its lungs, “TOUCH ME!” He didn’t. Instead, he released me and walked back towards the locker rooms; leaving me to sag against the partitioned wall and contemplate how much better things would have been were I anyone else.

      Just then Paige turned the corner, her nice new pink workout clothes were drenched. Poor Paige was a sweater. Some people were graced with good enough genetics that their bodies regulated temperature well enough that they didn’t drip with sweat unless it was a million degrees. I was one of those lucky people, I glistened under all but the worst of circumstances. Paige, however, looked like she was melting.

      “Oh, sweetie.”

      “Yeah I know,” she huffed, clearly still out of breath. “But it was worth it. Guess who feels like they might die of heart failure and had sex in a supply closet? This chick!” She pointed at her chest, leaving me to gape at her as I contemplated just when this Freaky Friday-esque switch occurred. I was the one who was supposed to have wild sex with guys in broom closets.

      “Give me my life back!” I whined at my friend. She giggled, in turn, leaning her shoulder against the partition as Adam walked passed, pausing to smack her on the ass making her squeal.

      “Monday night! And I’ll even make you flax seed waffles in the morning,” he crooned to her, and I cringed. Flaxseed Waffles? What the actual fuck. There was no way that would taste anything that even remotely resembled good.

      “On second thought, keep it,” I muttered.

      “It’s Jasper’s recipe.” Paige beamed at me before her attention returned to Adam’s ass as he made his way into the back. “I made it clear I wasn’t looking for anything serious and then bam… sex in a closet. Is it always this easy?”

      “It’s not easy. It only seems easy, but then you’ll meet a guy who you think will be fun… instead, he’ll make you question your sense of self and force you to dust off a word that hasn’t been in your vocabulary for a good decade almost.”

      “Oh? What word?”

      “Guilt.”

      “Maybe…or maybe we’ll both fall for each other, and he’ll put my closet quickie days behind me.”

      “How can you still be so optimistic after everything that’s happened?”

      “Because not every guy out there is Mark. I just had this discussion with Aaron last night. Apparently, his hubby didn’t come home until five A.M.”

      “Jeeze, he’s not even trying.”

      “Yeah. Aaron’s confronting him tonight.”

      “Well tomorrow we can all go see the male revue at Triple T. Drinking and naked men is even better than drinking and watching the Drag show.”

      “Do you think Jasper strips?”

      “I really hadn’t thought about it.” Big fat lie! “He has the body for it though…well what I’ve seen of it.” I tried to keep the irritation from my voice, I really did; I failed expertly.

      “C’mon I’ll buy you a smoothie.”

      “Oh no. Woman, you dragged me out of my bed at six in the fucking morning to go to the Gym. You owe me Pancakes!”

      “IHOP it is then.”

      “Damn straight.”

***

      After leaving IHOP, I went home and passed out. Fuck early morning Saturday, just fuck it. I practically hibernated until Sunday, which wasn’t anything new really. Weekends were my time to rally so I had enough strength to go on another week. Adding this new found guilt to the mix wasn’t good. Both Narcisse and Raven had called me numerous times since that first date with Jasper, and I hadn’t answered either of them. I did, however, send them text messages that essentially said I needed “me time” and I’d get back to them soon.

       The guilt continued to gnaw at me though, even when Sunday rolled around, and I got out of bed at the crack of noon to make the brunch I’d take to Jasper. I knew the Blake was a nice hotel, but holy hell did hotel living suck. I had to do it for a brief week when I got my job working for Keller and Price. My apartment wasn’t ready yet, so I spent about a week at an Econolodge which whereas it wasn’t as nice as the Blake I was certain that the swanky hotel presented its own problems. Mainly the price, I knew it was a few hundred a night at the Blake so I didn’t envy Jasper’s bill. Hopefully, it was worth it.

      While waiting for the bacon to brown and my hair to curl in the hot rollers I almost texted Paige to see what happened between Aaron and his hubby; but I didn’t. I wasn’t going to taint what could be a positive experience with Jasper with their negativity. No, I wasn’t one of those new agey people, but I knew if I got Aaron’s problems stuck in my head I’d be a real Debbie Downer during the meal and we didn’t really have a whole lot of time. I was a woman on a mission as I simultaneously dressed and cooked. We were going to kiss.

      Part of me thought I was setting the bar obscenely low, but that was where we were. I was wearing my brand new fuck-me panties and the shirt that made my tits practically pop out because I wanted a kiss. Never before had anyone made me work so hard for so little. That thought alone made me pause at the door when I was on my way out.

      Why the hell was I working so hard? What was compelling me to want to put myself through this torture? Jasper was hot, yes he was hot enough to be a masturbatory fantasy even if everything went sour, but I had been with guys just as hot before…maybe. I thought for a moment with my hand on the door.

      Had I been with guys as hot as Jasper before?

      Maybe as hot but they were serious dicks to the degree that ultimately equated their sex appeal to nothing in the long run. I already knew Jasper wasn’t like that; he didn’t do the negging thing. That was the quickest way to end up on my shit list. I think that might even rank higher than saying the big L-O-V-E. Though Jasper had said…that word, I was determined not to hold it against him.

      Why? Well damn near a million people on Instagram couldn’t be wrong. But if I was serious that wasn’t it… I genuinely liked Jasper. I liked him before when he was just the guy who made my drinks that I drooled over with Paige. Maybe it was all a bad idea.

      By the time the thought crossed my mind that maybe it was a mistake to see Jasper, I had already auto-piloted myself onto the bus with my bag of goodies beside me.

      Urgh. Too much introspection before breakfast. I pushed it all away and sent Jasper a quick text letting him know I was on the bus. However right after I sent it, my phone buzzed with a call from Raven. Without a second thought, I hit the ignore button; I’d deal with him later.

      It might not have been the most mature way to handle it, but it was better than telling him “hey, I met this guy, and he has kind of put me in crisis mode with how I’m living my life. Why? Oh well, I think it’s just because he’s really super fucking hot but I won’t be sure if it’s just because I want to bone him until after I do so I kind of don’t want to talk to anyone until then. K, bye.” Yeah, that would go over well.

      The bus stopped right at the door to the Blake so within moments of hitting the pavement I and my bag of goodies were at Jasper’s hotel room door. Before I knocked I checked my boobs in my bra making certain my cleavage was presented for maximum effect. I loved my breasts; most of the time they got me exactly what I wanted. One should never underestimate the power of a push-up bra, bleach blonde hair and pretty smile, as my mother used to say. I had traded the bleach blonde hair for dyed bright copper red, but the rest of it was pretty true.

      Drawing a quick breath, I prepared myself for full on sexual warfare before knocking on the door. I was getting my kiss before I left. As I stared at my reflection on the shiny little peep hole I held my chin a little higher. Oh, fuck the kiss; Jasper was going to see my panties. I was going to conquer, I was prepared.

      Clearly, Jasper was too because he opened the door in nothing but a pair of heather gray pajama pants. Score: Jasper five million, Emilia zero. My brain was beyond mush. If someone had asked me my name, I probably would have just opened my mouth and drooled on them a little.

      “Hey there! What goodies did you bring?” He inquired with an impish smile. That motherfucker knew exactly what he was doing.

      “Hey,” I breathed as I stepped into the hotel room. The place was huge, as in this was clearly one of those fancy suites that cost more than a couple hundred a night. Something was clearly up, bartenders didn’t have the kind of money to stay in a room like this for two weeks. “Oh, BLTEC’s, mimosa fixing's and fruit salad.”

      “BL…what now?”

      “A Bacon, Lettuce, Tomato, Egg and Cheese sandwich on toast.”

      “Sounds good. I’m sorry about this”—he tugged on the waistband of the pajama pants—“I woke up kind of early, got in a quick swim downstairs then came back here and passed out.”

      “Don’t apologize, I like the view.” I winked at him and started taking things out of my bag and putting them on the table. “So how much is this setting you back? This room can’t be cheap.”

      “Nothing. The guy that runs the Revue got me a room in the block with the strippers. I’m the only bartender at Triple T who has ‘the look’ that fits in with the fantasy he’s selling. That and after what happened last time I’m the only one willing to tend bar during the night shift when the crowd gets rowdy.”

      “Well, I hope you’re making enough.”

      “I should think so. In the last four days, I’ve pulled two grand in tips.”

      “Wow, clearly I’m in the wrong line of work.”

      “Not every Bartender makes as much as I do—even at Triple T. Most don’t make even close to half because they don’t actually talk to people.”

      “Hm, I didn’t think that’d matter with a male revue.”

      “You’d be surprised, I have one of those faces that people trust.”

      “More like a body people trust,” I murmured under my breath.

      “I heard that. And I know that plays into it too. But talking is another part of it.”

      “If you say so.”

      “Trust me.” He smiled one of those brilliant Jasper smiles, the kind that made me think he should get his mouth insured. I started placing the food on paper plates and filling the plastic cups with orange juice. Without a word he went to the minibar and got a small bottle of champagne and a can of ginger ale. I eyeballed the pour on his ginger ale, and he drew a sharp breath.

      “I’m sorry I’m not a master mixologist. Would you rather do it?” I asked glancing up at him.

      “Would you mind?”

      “Not at all. Mix away.”  I gestured to the cup and sat in the chair watching as he added a little orange juice to the cup and then a little ginger ale until he seemed satisfied. It was amusing as hell to watch. “So how was last night?” I asked picking at the toast of my sandwich.

      “Super busy. At midnight I cracked a callous, so I had three hours of getting lemon and lime juice in it as well as salt.” He held up his hand as he poured the champagne with the other, his thumb had a nasty scab on it. “No opening beer bottles without an opener for a while. The worst part was having to smile through it and pretend like it didn’t hurt.” Why am I listening to this? If it were Raven or Narcisse I would have shut them up already.

      After he had finished the drinks, we took our food and sat at the foot of the bed watching—and I shit you the fuck not—The Notebook. His suggestion of course, I hadn’t the heart to break it to him that I had never seen the film before, and even as we watched it, I didn’t pay attention to it. I was way too focused on Jasper’s body.

      He still hadn’t put a shirt on, so my mind was next to blank as I ogled him and nibbled on my sandwich. I finished my mimosa in record time and slipped off the bed to make myself another swatting my hand in Jasper’s direction as he started to get up. While in mid-pour I paused and lowered the mini champagne bottle to the table, staring down into my clear plastic cup. The fuck was I doing? Without the perfection of Jasper’s naked torso clouding my brain, I could finally think clearly. I was in uncharted territory.

      “You okay?” That warm, friendly tenor made me jump.

      “I think I should go.”

      “Not a fan of the movie?”

      “I…Jasper, you’re a really great guy and all.” I downed the straight champagne and started picking up the mess of foil I had made around the table.

      “Emma, don’t.” The way he said my name my body tight and ache to be touched, but I knew he wouldn’t touch me. We had been sitting on a bed for a good hour and a half, and he hadn’t even made a move to stand closer to me. The tension was delicious, but I knew myself well enough to know that if he wasn’t going to do anything about it, I was just going to get cranky. It was smart to leave and maybe call Narcisse for a good old fashioned quickie.

      Fuck this feelings shit. I balled up the garbage in the shopping bag I brought the food in and tossed it in the trashcan.

      “Talk to me,” he pleaded, his voice closer than I thought, making me glance over my shoulder. He was no longer on the bed; no, he had moved to stand almost directly behind me with hands balled into fists at his sides.

      “What do you want me to say?” I sighed and turned around. He was close enough to touch, close enough that if I wanted to, I could have closed that distance and maybe even kissed him. But who was I kidding that wasn’t slow enough for him.

      “Anything, other than you don’t want to continue.” He stepped passed me and returned to the minibar taking out a few small bottles of liquor before returning to the table. He pulled out the chair and stepped around the other side. “Here, so we’re in our usual venue. Talk to me while I make you a drink.”

      “What am I supposed to say?” I shrugged and slipped into the plush chair as he took out two more plastic cups and took some ice out of the ice bucket.

      “Talk to me like you have for the last year. Say whatever you want, even if it’s bad… but talk to me.”

      “Even if it’s about you?”

      “Especially if it’s about me.” There was that five-alarm smirk again. “I think I’ve heard you complain about the guys you’ve seen more than anyone else, so just air your grievances and I promise not to hold them against you.” I stared at him for a moment but ultimately nodded.

      “So I’ve started seeing this guy…” I threaded my fingers back through my fiery locks and sighed. “And he’s too perfect. Gorgeous, great body, killer smile the whole works. He’s just amazing, but he’s making me think too hard about things. I’ve never felt guilty before, never felt like I’ve been doing things wrong but now… I don’t know.”

      “Guilty for being with him?” He asked solemnly as he started shaking the liquor in a makeshift shaker he created by holding the two cups together. I stared at him for a moment, really taking him in as those muscles shifted under his skin as he continued making the drink for me.

      “No, guilty about everything else. The worst part is I don’t know if it’s because he has me legitimately questioning how I live my life or because I’m just not thinking clearly because we haven’t had sex yet… or even kis—” I was cut off as he abruptly leaned in and kissed me. It was everything I had hoped. His lips were softer than I imagined, he played with my tongue making me shiver and my skin break out in gooseflesh like I was a fucking teenager again.

      My mind went blank, and suddenly I didn’t care about any of that shit that was bothering me moments before. All I cared about was how good he made me feel as he drew it out making my pulse beat like a trapped and frantic animal.

       It was so odd, anyone else and I would have shoved everything off the table and fucked him right then and there, but this was Canyon slow Jasper. Still, as we continued, I tried to press for more, teasing him with my teeth as my hand slipped down that glorious chest.

       And then right as my hand reached the waistband of those pajama pants…he full on bit me; seizing my bottom lip between his teeth in a quick and unexpected bite. It cut through all of that soft, lazy pleasure with just enough pain to make me moan loud enough that I even startled myself.

      We panted, lingering close and staring at each other. Oh, the look in his eyes could have fucking melted steel. He liked biting me! Canyon slow Jasper had a sadistic streak.  Sucking on my bottom lip, I stared into those amazing blue eyes drawing a ragged breath. The kiss didn’t make anything better.

      “I certainly need that drink now.” I laughed nervously reaching for the drink, just glancing down I could clearly see the bulge his erection had formed in his trousers, staring at it made my mouth water… I forgot what I was doing. A nervous laugh broke my lips, and I shook my head covering my face with my hand. “Wow.”

      “Good wow?”

      “I don’t know yet.” I sat back down giggling and catching my breath, keeping my face hidden behind my hand. As my lip throbbed, I traced that perfect indentation of his teeth with my tongue, savoring the sensation. Never in a million years would I have guessed Jasper, adorable, kind, gentle Jasper liked to bite. Saying I didn’t know if it was good was a big ol’ fat fucking lie. It was a good wow, but I wasn’t entirely sure that was a good thing.

      Fuck. Double Fuck. Triple Fuckity Fuck. I let out a shaky breath and dropped my hand looking up at Jasper, who was giving me that billion-dollar smile coupled with that sexy smolder that just about had my patina panties on the floor. I couldn’t do this. All that amazing kiss did was make me certain that I knew he didn’t deserve what I’d give him.

      “I’m going to be honest with you, Jasper. Because…I adore you, and that kiss was… holy fuck on a stick that kiss but...” Drawing a breath, I knitted my brows together and took a step back snatching my purse from the floor. With that simple gesture, his face fell like a kid who had just found out there was no Santa Claus. “You deserve better than what I’ll give you.”

      “Em.”

      “I’m sorry. I really am, and I know you’re older than I am and you know what you want but… I’m kind of a douche. And I’d rather skip over this amazing experience and continue on my douche way than hurt you.”

      “Okay…” He stared at the table for a moment before bringing those gorgeous baby blues to rest on me again. “Maybe some other time?” He smiled weakly, and I felt like complete and utter shit. I finally had my answer after four days; Yes, I was a terrible fucking human being.

      “Yeah… some other time. I’m sorry.”

      “Don’t be, I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you better. And if you ever want to have a late night video chat or meet for coffee—just as friends—give me a call.” Oh, God. I was the biggest ass in the universe. I was a gigantic asshat. I was the Queen of the jackasses. Not only was I a member of the asshole club, but I was also the fucking president.

      “I might take you up on that.” And faster than I could snap my fingers he was there with his arms around me pinning me against his smooth, hard, warm chest in a crushing embrace that ensconced me in that intoxicating scent and drove home the fact that I was indeed the biggest idiot in the universe.

***

      That night I found myself outside of a familiar loft. I felt like garbage, so I decided to meet up with the only other person I thought would understand it. Narcisse. He got me. That was just how it was. Some people you just click with, and he was one of those for me. The motherfucker could finish my sentences most of the time. I held down the buzzer.

      “’Allo?” That French accent was thick enough to dance in a rap video wearing a bikini.

      “Hey,” I sniffed. I had not been crying, but I spent the last few hours damn near on the verge of it.

      “Ah! Ma tigresse! I wish you ‘ad called. I would have laid out the canvas, and we could ‘ave made some glorious art. Un moment. I need to send my model out.”

      “Yeah. Alright.” I sighed and leaned against the wall. It was ten minutes before a rather disheveled looking blonde slid the door opened. She was leggy, tall and rail thin like a model and those blonde tresses were arranged in a way that said I-was-just-having-sex. She looked at me and blushed before half running down the hall. Sighing I slipped into the loft and slid the door closed behind me.

      On the floor was a large canvas smeared with nondescript forms. A pang of jealousy ran through me. Once he had told me I was the only one he liked to make art with. Now, I stood there in that near-empty expanse rolling my eyes. The loft was void of almost anything. He was the penultimate starving artist. His bed was a mattress on the floor in a room full of canvases. Everything was purely minimalist which matched his style.

      “The first moment sold at the gallery, last week. I called to ask you to celebrate with me. Twice.” Oh, he sounded grumpy.

      “Do I need to blow you to cheer you up?” I raised a brow. Narcisse was sexy, we met at an art show last year right after my interview. Aaron had made Paige go, and she dragged me along. Thinking of that moment made me smile. I was staring at this work of art, some smear of blue and green in the middle of a white canvas. I said it looked like shit, and he turned around and confessed that he agreed with me completely and that it was his painting. After about a ten-minute conversation we fucked in the bathroom, and he gave me his number saying that he had an idea for a series of works that I could help with. The next day I called him, met him at his loft and we covered ourselves in paint and fucked on a canvas. That was the basis of our relationship… sex.

      “Not unless you enjoy the taste of other women’s pussies.” He chuckled. “Come, shower with me.”

      “Was the blonde not enough?” I teased, trying to push away the thoughts of what I did to Jasper.

      “Of course not. She lacked your fire. Come! We’ll shower and then get gloriously drunk, yes?”

      My eyes went to that canvas on the floor, and I started to wonder just how many others had he used that line on—and was he sure it was my painting that had sold and not some other chick’s. I felt a little sick. I had always thought Narcisse was like me… was this what I was like?

      “Sure, why the fuck not.” With a sigh, I dropped my purse and started stripping leaving a trail of clothes from beside the canvas to the bathroom where he had already turned on the shower. Usually, I’d be giddy about having Narcisse in the shower, but I wasn’t. I wanted to talk about what happened with Jasper I wanted insight that only someone similar to me could offer. “Do you mind if we talk?”

      “Anything you wish, ma tigresse. You ‘ave graced me with your divine presence after a week so you may do whatever you wish.” He stepped under the jet of water, rinsing the paint and the stink of someone else’s sex off of him. The colors ran down his body tracing the contours of his abs and muddying into a purple brown around the drain.

      “Have you ever felt…guilty?” I crossed my arms under my breasts and leaned against the cement wall. He laughed, half snorting as though I had suggested something utterly preposterous.

      “Non. What ‘ave you been up to? Did you fall for someone and ‘ave your little ‘eart broken?”

      “No, nothing like that. I did see someone else a few times though.”

      “Oh? Thinking of cutting out that deplorable musician?”

      “What is with you two?”

      “’E is a coke ‘ead, druggies cannot be trusted, ma tigresse. You’re smart, surely you ‘ave ‘ad your doubts about ‘im, no?”

      “It wasn’t that. It was the bartender at Triple T he’s just…” I shook my head. “Have you ever felt like someone deserved more than what you could give them?” Again he laughed.

      “Non, our way is the best way. All of these morons are fooling themselves with their misguided notions of love. You should keep seeing ‘im. ‘E’ll come round. Most men want our lives but lack the testicular fortitude to follow through.”  He soaped his body, and I couldn’t even enjoy it I was so sickened by what he had said.

      “I’m not talking about love, I’m talking about… not wanting to hurt someone.”

      “What is the difference, ma tigresse?”

      “Do you want to hurt me?” I raised a brow, and he leveled those changeable gray eyes at me.

      “That is a stupid question, non? You can care for someone and not believe in that mushy…stuff. But thinking someone deserves more, means that you believe they deserve love. Which I thought was a foreign word to you…’ere I thought we were kindred spirits.”

      “We are.”

      “Then get over ‘ere and suck me, I’ll make you forget all about that silly man.”

      “Nice try.” It was my turn to laugh as I crossed my ankles and sighed.

      “Your body language right now speaks volumes.”

      “Does it?”

      “Mm, you’re pissed with me.”

      “Oui, tu me comprend tres bien.” Yes, you understand me very well. I fired off in French before flashing him a tight smile.

      “You should stick to speaking Italian and English, your French is terrible, Mademoiselle Vicente.”

      “Fuck you.”

      “You’re the one who declined my offer. Some wine will ‘elp.”

      We sat in the bedroom on that mattress on the floor passing a bottle of wine between us and nibbling cheese cubes. Nothing was really said, the silence kind of permeated everything as we wrapped ourselves in the fluffy towels. I was shell shocked to a point. Narcisse didn’t get me; I had fooled myself into thinking he did because the sex was good. Now after that bomb he dropped in the shower I couldn’t bring myself to touch him.

      “Fuck this.” I shrugged out of the towel and stood.

      “What?” He seemed shocked as I started out of the room like he couldn’t believe I was actually leaving. It was as though the thought never crossed his mind that I wouldn’t be okay with the fact that he essentially just confessed that he didn’t care about me. It was one thing not to love someone, it was another thing entirely to not care about them. It fucking hurt. It was like someone had reached into my chest and started squeezing my heart.

      Before all this started with Jasper, there was one person I might have been convinced to say that four letter word to and that was Narcisse but now… I slammed the door to the bedroom and started picking my clothes off of the floor. I dressed angrily in front of that canvas beside my discarded purse. Reaching to snatch it up from the floor I caught one strap, it fell open, and my phone spilled out and skidded across the room. Of fucking course. I sighed and went to go hunt it down.

      Crawling on all fours by the drawers where Narcisse kept his paints I checked under the baseboards and found my phone. I checked the screen and breathed a sigh of relief finding it neither cracked, shattered nor scuffed. Before I could even stand, I heard something buzz in the bottom drawer. Furrowing my brows, I slid it open revealing that in the bottom tucked amongst the rags was a phone I didn’t recognize. It must be the blonde’s phone, she probably left it to have an excuse to come back. I laughed a little and decided to snoop hitting the button to take the phone out of sleep. It was locked with one of those patterns.

       Rolling my eyes, I angled the phone and found the oily pattern traced on the glass. Those pattern locks were next to useless if you didn’t have a screen protector. I traced the pattern, and I was practically hit in the face with a picture of Aaron and Narcisse locked in a passionate kiss.

      My heart sunk to my toes and it was suddenly hard to breathe. I was half tempted to take the phone, but then what. I continued snooping and found hundreds of text messages forwarded from another number; texts to about a dozen people, some of whom he rolled out all of that mushy stuff. 

      So I sent a group text to everyone in his phone saying to come over to the studio right away, it was an emergency. Then I turned the ringer back on, placed it in the middle of that new painting he did with the blonde and left as his phone started blaring chime after obnoxious chime.

      I felt a little better as I headed out to the bus, but only a bit.

      Overall I felt horrible; worse than shit even. But I wasn’t as bad as Narcisse. Fuck him. I took his number out of my phone as I sat at the bus stop a few blocks away. I had a few minutes to kill and whereas I wanted to tell Paige about what had happened, I couldn’t. Aaron had to find out on his own first, then I’d tell her and take whatever they wanted to dish out at me. I fucking deserved it.

      Time to spare meant I could dick around on social media as I waited. Unfortunately, I had a strong nagging desire to check Jasper’s Instagram…because clearly I wasn’t hurting enough already.

      He posted his normal selfie in front of the mirror, but he wasn’t smiling. The caption read, “Sorry for the frown. Feeling a little broken hearted.” Then there were a bunch of crying emojis and various semi-depressing hashtags. I didn’t look at the comments; I didn’t want to. I could just feel the hostility pouring through the universe and converging on me.

      The bus pulled up, and I got on, huddling in the back watching the bright lights pass as it zigzagged its way through town. It passed Triple T, and I was tempted to push the button to signal it to stop, but in the end I decided not to. All I knew for certain at that moment was that regardless of what had happened Jasper was probably better off without me and it was honestly over between Raven and me.

      As I climbed up the stairs to my apartment, I contemplated everything settling on the fact that… I couldn’t really complain about being alone because I had always been alone. The time with Jasper didn’t count because I refused to let him in. Closing the door to my apartment, I threw my keys on the counter and let out a long drawn out sigh as I gathered my strength and sent Raven a text message.

      [I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry.] I hit send and shuddered a little. I had expected a response, but I didn’t get any. Instead, I sluggishly rolled into bed and snuggled with Grumpkin until I passed out.