Second

byChantalFernando

DEDICATION

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTERONE

CHAPTERTWO

CHAPTERTHREE

CHAPTERFOUR

CHAPTERFIVE

CHAPTERSIX

CHAPTERSEVEN

CHAPTEREIGHT

CHAPTERNINE

CHAPTERTEN

CHAPTERELEVEN

CHAPTERTWELVE

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

CHAPTERFOURTEEN

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

CHAPTERNINETEEN

CHAPTERTWENTY

CHAPTERTWENTYONE

CHAPTERTWENTYTWO

CHAPTERTWENTYTHREE

EPILOGUE

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CHANTALFERNANDO

PublishedSeptember2016

Coverdesign©ArijanaKarčić,CoverIt!Designs

EditedbyHotTreeEditing

SECONDisaworkoffiction.Allnames,characters,placesandeventsportrayedinthisbook

eitherarefromtheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiously.Anysimilaritytorealpersons,livingor

dead,establishments,events,orlocationispurelycoincidentalandnotintendedbytheauthor.Pleasedo

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Dedication

TotheFMRBookGrindteam:

Thankyousomuchforeverythingyoudoforme!Iappreciateeachandeveryoneofyousomuch.

AndRose—youknowyou’restuckwithmeforever,right?Loveyou.

Acknowledgements

AbigthankyoutoArijanaKarcicatCoverIt!Designsforyouramazingtalentandfriendship.I

kindofloveyou.You’reseriouslythebest.

ToRoseTawil—Thankyousomuchforeverything.Iwouldn’tbeabletofunctionwithoutyou!

YouareoneofthebestsoulsI’veevercomeacross.

MybetareadersLeeannWrightandKaraBrown—thankyousomuchforyourhelp.Iappreciate

youboth!

HotTreeEditing—Thankyouforbeingsowonderfultoworkwith.

TomybestieNatalieRam—Thankyouforbeingtheultimateproofreader,andhelpingme

wheneverIneedit,eventhoughyou’resuperbusybeingyourowngirlboss.Loveyou,Mami.

Tomyfamily—myparents,mysistersandmysons—Iloveyouall.

Tomyreaders—IhopeyoulovethisbookasmuchasIdidwritingit.

“One'sfirstloveisalwaysperfectuntilonemeetsone'ssecondlove”

― ElizabethAston

Prologue

Iglancearoundthereception,smilingandhuggingeveryonewhocomesnearme.WhileInever

expectedtogetmarriedsoyoung,andtomyfirstboyfriend,Idon’tthinkIcouldbehappier.

“Youlookbeautiful,Sabina,”Deansaysasheapproaches,greeneyessoftonme.

“Thankyou,Dean,”Isay,smilingandtouchinghisforearm.Ifeelbeautifulinmylacegown,as

everybrideshouldonherwedding.“Youwereamazingupthere.”

Ilooktothestagewherehe’djustperformed,singingonmyspecialday.Hejustgotsigned,andis

abouttomakeitbig.Iknowit.Ifeelitinmygut.Dean’stalentissomethingelse,andhedeservestobeup

amongstthebignamesintheindustry.IaskedhimtosingJohnLegend“Allofme”andthewayhesungit

wasamazing,filledwithsomuchemotion.

Hesmiles,butitdoesn’treachhiseyes.

“Iseverythingokay?”Iaskhim,watchingashebringshisglasstohislipsandtakesasip.

“Yeah,”hesayssoftly.“Whywouldn’titbe?”

Iglanceoveratmygroupofbridesmaids,allsittingtogetheratatable.“Ithinkthey’reallhoping

youtakeoneofthemhometonight.”

Heglancesatthem,suddenlylookingextremelyuncomfortable,thendownstherestofhisglass.

“Yeah,Idon’tthinkthat’sgoingtohappen.”

“Savingitforthecelebrities,hey?”Itease,playfullynudginghimwithmyelbow.Deanwas

knowninhighschoolforbeingabitofaladiesman,andIneverlethimliveitdown.“I’mgoingtomiss

you,youknow.”

“I’llmissyoutoo,Sabina,”hesays,duckinghishead.Helooksintohisemptyglass.

“Doyouwantarefill?IthinkI’mgoingtohaveadrink,too.”

Heliftshishead.“Whatdoyouwant?I’llgoandgetitforyou.”

Ismileandsay,“Avodkaorange,please.”

Hisliptwitches.“Nochampagne?”

“I’mnotfancy,”Itellhim,makinghimlaugh.

“I’llberightback,”hesays,headingforthebar.

IglanceacrosstheroomatBen,whoisdancingwithhismother.Theyalwayssaythatthewaya

mantreatshismumishowhe’lltreatyou,andifthat’strue,IthinkI’mgoingtobealuckywomanindeed.

Deanreturnstomysideandhandsmemyglass.“Thanks.”

“Sincethegroomisoccupied,”hesays,offeringmehishand.“Wouldyouliketodancewithme?”

Itakeamouthfulofvodkathenputmyglassdownonthetable,offeringhimmyhand.“I’dlove

to.”

Hegrinsanddoesthesame,puttinghisdrinkdownthentakingmyhandandleadingmetothe

dancefloor.Aswemoveslowlytothemusic,Iask,“Sowhendoyouleave?”

“Nextweek,”herumbles,clearinghisthroat.“Howisunigoing?”

I’mabouttoreplywhenBencutsin,smilingathiscousinandslappinghimontheshoulder.Dean

congratulateshim,glancingatmeoncemorebeforereclaiminghisdrinkandheadingbacktothebar.

“Hello,husband,”IsaytoBen,smilingwidely.

“Wife,”hesays,kissingmylipssoftly.“Ican’twaittoripthisdressoffyou.”

Ismirkathim.“Don’tthinkI’measynowjustbecausewe’remarried.”

Benthrowshisheadbackandlaughs.“Iwon’tmakethatmistake,Bina.”

Wedancetotwosongs,thenIheadtothebarforanotherdrink,sincemineseemedtohavegone

missing.

Deanisstillthere,nowdoingshots.

“Hey,howareyoudoing?”Iaskhim,eyebrowsrisinginamusement.

Hecutshiseyesatme,thenlooksaway,lickinghislips.“Doyoubelieveinfate,Sabina?”

Isitdownonthestoolandconsiderhisquestion.“Ithinkyoumakeyourownfate.Why?”

“Noreason,”hemurmurs,orderinganotherdrink.

Hesoongetscutofffromthebar,andBenescortshimtohishotelroomtomakesurehegetsinto

bedsafely,whileIsaygoodbyeandthankyouaseveryonestartstoleave.

WhenBenreturns,hepicksmeupinhisarms,andlooksintomyeyes.“Iloveyou.”

“Iloveyoutoo,Ben.”

Idon’twantthismomenttoend.

ChapterOne

FourYearsLater

Ifeelahandonmyshoulder,butIdon’tacknowledgeit.He’sdead.Gone.Idon’tknowhowI’m

meanttoprocessthis.Ilookathisgravestoneandfeelnumb.Everyoneiswatchingme.Waitingformeto

breakdownandcry,maybe,butallI’mdoingissittingherewithablankexpressiononmyface.Never

didIthinkI’dbecomeawidowatthetenderageoftwenty-four,buthereIamwithmyhusbandsixfeet

under.

“Hey,howareyouholdingup?”someoneasksmefrommyright.Iwishthey’dleavemealone.It

wouldmakemylifemucheasier;can’ttheyseethatIdon’twanttotalkrightnow?Idon’twanttodo

anything,Ijustwanttosithereandfeelsorryformyself,wonderinghowexactlyI’mmeanttohandlethe

lossoftheoneandonlymanI’veeverbeenwith.Sure,ourrelationshipwasfarfromperfect,butBenwas

myhusband,theonlymanI’veeverloved.Iabsentlyrubbelowmycollarbonewithmypalm,wondering

howlongitwilltakeforthetightnessinmychesttosubside.Maybeit’sjustgoingtobesomethingI’m

goingtohavetolivewithforever.Whentheysaytimehealsall,doesthatincludehavingsomeoneripped

outofyourlifebyacaraccident?Idon’tknow,butIguessI’llfindout.Whydidhegetbehindthewheel

insteadofcallingmetopickhimup?Howcouldhehavebeensostupidtodrinkdrive?Imumblemy

thankstoeveryonewhoapproachesme,offeringmetheirapologiesandtheirsympathy,butI’mstill

standingatthegravestone,alone,longaftereveryoneleaves.MybestfriendTarawantedtostay,butI

toldherthatIwantedtobealonewithhimforalittlewhile,withoutthecrowdofpeople.Ifeellike

walkingawayfromheremeanswalkingawayfromBen,eventhoughhe’stheonewhohasleftme.Itouch

thecoldstone,runningmyfingersalongit.

“Iguessthisisit,Ben,”Iwhisper,lickingmydrylips.“Idon’tknowhowI’msupposedtosay

goodbyetoyou,somaybeIwon’t.I’llstillcomeandvisityou.I’llstillloveyou,andI’llstillthinkof

you.I’llalwayshaveourmemories.”Iclosemyeyesandpicturehisface.Flashbackshitme.Thedaywe

firstmadelove.Whenheproposed.Whenwegotmarried.Thedayweboughtourfirsthousetogetherand

movedin.He’sbeenthebiggestpartofmylife,andnowIdon’tknowhowI’mmeanttomoveforward.

Whenlovingandbeingwithacertainpersonisallyouknow,allyouwant,whatdoyoudowhenthat

personistakenaway?Howdoyoumournandtryandliveatthesametime?Ican’timaginemylife

withouthim.Idon’tknowhowtolivewithouthim.WheredoIgofromhere?Hehasalwaysbeenmyone

constant.ThepersonIturnedto.Myanchor.I’madriftwithouthim.

HowdoIsurvivethis?

Iremovemyhandanduseittowipethetearsdrippingdownmycheeks.WhenIhearadeepvoice

saymynamefrombehindme,Iturnandlookintofamiliargreeneyes.

“Dean,”Isay,eyeswidening.Itryandforceasmilebutfail.“Youmadeit.”

“CourseIdid,”hemurmurs,givingmeaquickonce-over,thenclosingthespacebetweenusand

pullingmeintohisarms.“Fuck,Sabina.I’msorry.Iknowitdoesn’tmeananything,orchangeanything…

butI’msofuckingsorry.”

ForthefirsttimesinceIheardthenewsthatmyhusbandwasdead,Iallowmyselftocryproperly.

WhyIbreakdownnow,infrontofhim,Idon’tknow,butit’slikewithhisstrengthhereIfinallydon’t

havetorelyonmyown.Maybeit’sbecausehesaidexactlywhatIneededtohear.AsIsobintohis

leatherjacket,thepainseepsthroughmypores.Deanrubsmybackpatiently,lettingmehavemymoment

ofweakness.I’mnotusuallyacrier.I’mthetypewhobottlesemotionsuntilI’mabouttoexplode.Idon’t

reallyknowhowtoprocessthemwell,andDeanprobablywillneverknowhowbigofadealitisthat

he’sseeingmecryrightnow.

Iguessitdoesn’tmatteranyway.Icry,andheletsme.

That’sallthatmatters.

It’sthebestthingsomeonecandoformerightnow.

*****

Irubmyeyes,groaningasthelightturnsoninwhatwasmypitch-blackbedroom.“What?”Isnap,

rollingoverandburyingmyfaceintomypillow.Ican’trememberthelasttimeIleftmyroom,andIdon’t

evenwanttotalkaboutthelasttimeIhadashower.AllI’vedoneinthelastmonthisstayinbedinmy

pyjamas,listeningtosadmusicplayingonrepeat.IcreatedaBenplaylistandeachsongonitmakesme

slipfurtherintodepression,butIfeellikeIneedthis.IdeservethisafterthehellI’vegonethrough.Ineed

tomourn,andIgettochoosewhichwayIwanttodothat.Iknowthateveryonegrievesdifferently.My

bestfriend,Tara,hasbeenheretryingtogetmeoutofbedseveraltimes,andIknowshe’sworriedabout

me,butrightnow,Ijustwanttobealone.Idon’twanttofeelbetter.ThepainisallIhaverightnow,and

it’scomfortingme.It’smakingmefeel,andI’dratherthatthanfeelingnothingatall.Ijustneedsometime,

andIwishthatthey’dgivemethat,insteadofcomingtomyroomeveryday,tryingtocheermeup.Idon’t

wanttoberudetothem,butIjustlostmyhusband.Howdotheyexpectmetobouncebackfromthat?

Therewillbenobouncing.Justsleeping,listeningtoBabyface,EdSheeran,SamSmith,andJames

Morrison,andwonderingwhythishadtohappentome.

“Imadeyousomesoup,”adeepvoicesays,gettingareactionoutofmeforthefirsttimeindays.

IturntolookatDean,standingthereinmybedroomholdingabowlinhishands.“Whatareyou

doinghere?”

Ihaven’tseenhimsincethefuneral.Hedrovemehome,helpedmegetintobed,andthen

disappeared.Iassumedhewentbackontour;Iknowhe’sabusyman.Hecan’texactlydisappointhis

fansnomatterwhattheemergencyis,whichiswhyIwasn’tupsetbyhissuddendisappearance.Plus,he

owesmenothing.Iwashiscousin’swife,andthat’sit.Sure,we’vespenttimetogetherovertheyearsasa

family,andIknowhimwellenough,butwe’renotsuperclose.Infact,he’sneverevenbeeninsidemy

housebefore,sowhythehellisheherenow?

“Andhowdidyougetin?”

“Taraletmein,”hesays,placingthebowldowngentlyonthesidetablenexttomybed.“Shesaid

youhaven’tbeeneating,haven’tevenleftyourroom.”Hiskneeshitthecreamcarpetashelooksoverme.

Pushingmyhairoffmyface,hemurmurs,“Eat,Sabina,now.Iwon’tleavetheroomuntilyoudo.”

Inarrowmyhazeleyesonhim.“Whyareyouhere,Dean?”

Helooksawayforamoment,thensays,“Hewasmyfamilytoo,Sabina.”

Alltheangerinstantlyfadesaway.I’mnottheonlyonemourningBen,andIshouldn’tactlikeI

am.Thewholeworlddoesn’trevolvearoundme.Benhadlotsofpeopleinhislifewhocaredabouthim.

Isitupandtakethebowlofsoupinmyhands,liftingthespoonandscoopingamouthful.Hewatchesme

intently,stayingsilentthewholetimeasIeat.WhenIgethalfwayandcan’tpossiblyhaveanymore,Iput

thebowldown.Henods,asifsatisfied.

“Aren’tyoumeanttobeontour?”Iaskhim,knowingthathismusicishislife.

“Familycomesfirst,”ishisreplyashestands,walkstothewindows,andopensthecurtains.I

winceasthebrightsunhitsmeharderthantheoverheadlightdid.“It’sabeautifuldayoutside.”

“Goodforeveryoneelse,”Imumble,pullingmysheetupfurther.“WhereisTara?”

“Shehadtogotowork,”Deanexplains,sittingdownonthecornerofmybed.“Areyougoingto

getup?”

“No,”Isay,lookingoutthewindow.“Ihavetwomonthsoffwork,soIdon’tseewhyIhaveto.I

justwanttostayinbed.”

“Andwhat?Listentodepressingmusicandfeelsorryforyourself?”

“Isthatsobad?”Ifireback,runningmyhandsthroughmytangledhair.Imustlookliketotalcrap,

whilehestandsthereinjeansandablackt-shirt,hishairfallingoverhisforeheadlikehejustcamehere

fromaphotoshoot.Hell,maybehedid.“Howlongareyougoingtostayfor?”

“Acoupleofdays,”hesays,greeneyesdartingaroundmyroom.“Andno,it’snotsobad,butyour

monthoffeelingsorryforyourselfendsnow.”Hiseyeslockwithmine.“Youhaveeveryrighttofeel

whatyou’refeeling,butlifegoeson.Youneedtopushthrough.Thepainmightnotleaveyou,ever,butI

canpromiseyouthatitwillfadeintime.”

Ipursemylips.“Areyougoingtowriteasongaboutthisnow?”

Maybeheshould.Hislyricsarealwaysamazing.I’msurehecanexpresswhatI’mfeelingway

betterthanIcan.He’llturnitintoart.

Hisliptwitches,andhisheadshakes.“WhatamIgoingtowriteabout?Aprettygirlwhohasn’t

showeredindays?”

“Hey,”Isay,liftingmyarmupandsmellingmyself.“Ismelljustfine.”

Heliftsabrowinan“areyoukiddingme”kindofway,whichmakesmewanttothrowapillow

athim.“Underthecircumstances,Igetafuckingpass.”

“Ashowerpass?”heasks,amusementflashinginhiseyes.“Noonegetsahygienepass,Sabina,

nomatterwhathappens.Nowgetyourassintheshower.I’mgoingtoburnthosesheetswhileyou’rein

there.”WhenIdon’tmove,headds,“Don’tmakemecarryyouinthere,becauseI’lldoit.”

Igetoutofbedandwalkintomybathroom,slammingthedoorbehindmeforeffect.

Iturnonthehotwater,undress,andthenstepintotheshower.

Itfeelsamazing.

NotthatI’dadmitthat.

ChapterTwo

“It’sonlybeenamonth,”Igrowl,stormingthroughthekitchen,cleaningupasIgo.“Canyouget

offmyarse?”

He’sbeenherejustafewhours,andIalreadywanttomurderhim.Ididn’trealisehowmessymy

househadgotten,althoughIdon’tknowhowconsideringIhaven’tevenleftmyroom.Actually,Ido.

Tara’stheonlyotherpersonwhohasbeenhere,andshe’salittleonthemessyside,andthat’sputtingit

politely.Cursingherundermybreath,IwipedownthecountertopwhileDeanwatches,beerinhand,

fromthediningtable.EventhoughI’mnotinthebestofmoods,Igetthefeelingthathe’shappyI’moutof

bedanddoingthings.It’slikeIcanactuallyfeelhissilentapproval.Hedoesn’toffertohelp,justwatches

mymovementsasItryandsortmylifeoutafteramonthofbeingoutofit.

“Nope,”hereplies,liftingthebottletohislips.“I’vealreadymadeprogresswithyou,andifI

havetobeupyourarsetodoso,thensobeit.”

Istill.Ineversaid“up”myarse,butokay.“AfterIcleanupI’mgoingbacktobed.”

“No,you’renot.We’regoinggroceryshopping.Yourcupboardsarepracticallyempty,”hesays,

givingmeaonce-over.“Youneedtoeat.”

DoeshethinkI’mtooskinny?Ilookdownatmystomach,whichsure,isflatterthanitusuallyis,

butgrievingwilldothattoyou.Idon’tevenfeelhungry.Foodisusuallyalwaysonmymind,butright

nowIfeelnoneedtoconsumeanything.Exceptmaybesomealcohol.Maybeafoodstopisagoodidea,

becauseIcanstopatthebottleshopandgetsomevodkaorsomething.

Mmmmm,vodka.

Maybemyappetiteiscomingback.

“Yeah,okay,”Iagree,washingthefewdishesinthesink.“Canyouevengooutinpublicwithout

womengoingcrazyoveryou?”

Heshrugs.“Itwillbefine.”

Iturnthetapoff.I’veseenhiminmagazines,onTV;he’severywhere.I’veseenhiminthe

tabloidswithdifferentwomen,differentstoriesappearingeverytimeIcheck.Idon’tknowhowmuchof

thatistrue,butheseemstobeplayingthefield.He’sthecurrentitboy.Hewriteshisownlyrics,plays

hisownmusic,andhisvoiceisdeephuskyperfection.I’msureithelpsthatontopofthattalent,he’s

extremelygood-looking,buttomehe’sthesameoldDean.Theonewhousedtoplaypranksonthe

teachersatschool.TheoneI’dsometimeswatchfromafar.

MymindflashesbacktothefirsttimeImetDeanAmore,backinhighschool.

Ishiftmybagonmyshoulder,theheavybooksinsideweighingmedownandmakingmyarm

ache.IlookaroundforBen,buthemustberunninglate.He’sbeenbusyrecentlyandIhaven’tspent

muchtimewithhim.He’sprobablybeenbusystudying.That’sallI’vebeendoingrecentlywithexams

comingup.

“Needsomehelpthere?”ahuskyvoiceasksfrombehindme.IturntolookataboyI’veseen

aroundtheschoolhalls,butoneI’veneverspokentobefore.He’stall,muchtallerthanmyfivefoot

eight,withgreeneyes,brownhair,anddimples.Hissmoothtannedskinmakesmewanttoreachout

andtouchit.Hedoesn’tlooklikehebelongshere,inthisschool.HebelongsinHollywood,orsome

othermagicalfarawayplace.Maybewiththeguitarthat’salwaysattachedtohisside,that’sexactly

wherehe’llbeheading.

“I’mokay,butthankyou,”Itellhim,readjustingthebagoncemore.“That’swhatIgetfor

beinganoverachiever.”

Helaughs,flashingwhitestraightteeth.He’sgood-looking.Extremelyso,andit’shardforme

nottonotice.“Beingambitiousisn’tabadthing,”hesays,leaningbackagainstthebuilding,hisknee

bentforwardandfootrestingonthecreambricks.

“Speakingfromexperience?”Iask,givingupandputtingmybagontheground.Imovecloser

tohim,alsoleaningagainstthewall.

Heshrugs.“Ihavedreams.”

“I’mSabina,”Isay,offeringhimmyhand.“I’veseenyouaroundbutI’veneverspokentoyou

before.”

Helooksdownatmyhandforasecondbeforetakingit,hislargehandmakingminelooktiny

andfeminine.“Dean.”

“Greatname,”Imurmur,lookingbackoverthecourtyard.Theguyisdreamyandcharismatic,

andtobehonestI’msurprisedandproudofmyselfforbeingabletostringtogetherasentencewithout

stuttering.Maybeit’sbecausethereasonI’mstandinghereisBen,andIknowthatDeanisjusta

randomguyIhappentobehavingarandomconversationwith.

“Likewise.”

Helikesmyname?

Ibringmyattentionbacktohim.“Areyouwaitingforaride?”

“Somethinglikethat,”hereplies,studyingme.

Everyoneinschoolisclearingout,andsoonnoonewillbearound.Idon’tlikebeinginplaces

alone.It’snotthatI’mparanoid,butIwatchthenews.Theworldisn’twhatitusedtobe,andit’s

bettertobesafethansorry.I’mgladthatDeanisherewithmerightnowsoIdon’thavetostand

alone,evenifIonlydidjustofficiallymeethimforthefirsttime.

AndwherethehellisBen?

Ilookaroundagainbutcan’tseehim,justafewrandomstudents,andI’vealreadymissedmy

bus.IlookbackatDeanandfindhiseyesstillonme.“Yourrideislatetoo.”

“Idrovehere,”hesays,liptwitchinginamusement.“Ijustsawyoustandingaloneand

thoughtI’dkeepyoucompany.”

Myeyesnarrowslightly.“Youalwaysthismuchofagentleman?”

“No,”herepliessimply,brushinghishairoffhisforehead.“Doyoualwaysaskthismany

questions?”

“Yes,”Ireplyhonestly,archingmybrow.“What’swrongwithquestions?Curiosityisasignof

intelligence.”

Helooksdownatmybagofbooks.“Yeah,Ikindagotthat.”

Oureyesconnectandhold,andsomethingsizzlesbetweenus.Attraction?Idon’tknowwhatit

is,becauseI’veneverfeltitbefore.ItmakesmefeelalittleuncomfortableifI’mbeinghonest.There’s

astrangetensionbetweenusandIdon’tknowifit’sgoodorbad.Probablybad,consideringI’m

datingsomeone.Iclearmythroat,butcan’tseemtotearmygazeawayeventhoughIknowIshould.

Deanseemstoconsidersomething,thennodsandsays,“Listen,there’ssomething—”

“Thereyouare,”Bensays,walkingtowardsthetwoofus.ImovemygazefromDeantohim,

takinginhisshaggyblondhairandbaby-blueeyes.“SorryI’mlate,Ihadtostaybackfordetention.”

HelookstoDeanandliftshischin.“Whatyoudoinghere,cuz?”

Cuz?

Deanpushesoffthewall.“Justdidn’twantSabinatostandherealone.”HeslapsBenonhis

shoulderashepasses,thenheadstothecarparkwithoutsomuchasabackwardsglance.

“He’syourcousin?”Iask,eyesgoingwide.Great,Iwasjustcheckingoutmyboyfriend’s

familymember.

Benwrapsanarmaroundmywaistandpullsmeintohisbody.“Yeah,youdidn’tknowthat?

Youlookbeautifultoday,bytheway.”Hetouchesmyhighponytailofthickdarkhair.“Ilikeyourhair

up.”

“Thankyou,”Isay,glancingupathim.“Andno,Ididn’tknowthat.”

“Let’sgo,”hesays,noddingtowardshiscar.Handinhandwewalktoit.

Benopenshiscardoorforme,andIthrowinmyheavybagofbooksfirst,thenslideinside.As

we’redrivingaway,IseeDeanstandingbyhiscar,eyesonhisphone.

IwatchhimuntilitwouldbecomeobviousifIcontinued,thenturntolookatBen,whoreaches

outandputshishandonmythigh.Ismileatthefamiliarityofit,thenglanceoutofthewindow.

Everythinginmylifeisasitshouldbe.

*****

Ishakemyhead,asifgettingridofthatthought,andwalkintomybedroom.Ibrushmyhairagain

andtieitup,thenslidemyfeetintoapairofblackleatherankleboots.Idon’tbotherwithmake-up.I

don’tthinkanythingcansavethedarkcirclesundermyeyes.LuckilyI’vebeenblessedwithdecentskin,

soIdon’tlooksobadwithoutfoundation,butIstilllookalittlepaleandghostlike.Shrugging,Igrabmy

handbagandreturntoDean.“Readywhenyouare.”

Henodsandstands,puttinghisemptybeerbottleintherecyclingbinbeforeheadingtothedoor.

“Whyareyoudrinkingbeerat11:00a.m.?”Iask,tiltingmyheadtothesideandstudyinghim.He

musthavehadthesameideaasme.Gettingdrunkdoesn’tsolveanyoflife’sproblems,butitsureashell

cansolvetoday’sproblems.

“It’sallyouhadtodrinkbesidesmilk,”hesays,smirking.“Whichwasoff.”

“Oh,”Imutterasheopensthedoorforme.Ihaven’texactlythoughtaboutbeingagreathostwhen

allIwantedtodowasbealonefortheunforeseeablefuture.Myparentsdroppedbyoncebeforetheyhad

toflybackhome,andIdon’tthinkIwasgreatcompany.Infact,Ishouldprobablycallthemandapologise

forbeinganarsehole.We’renotthatclose,buttheystillcametoseeifIwasdoingokay,butallIwanted

wastobealone.Evenunderthecircumstances,theyaremyparentsandIshouldn’thavebeensorudeto

them.Theyprobablyshouldn’thaveleftsosoontoo,butthat’sawholedifferentstory.

“Areyouokaytodriveordoyouwantmeto?”Iaskhim.

Heclosesthedoorbehindhim,andIpulloutmykeytodoublelockit.

“I’mfinetodrive,”hesays,patientlywaiting.“We’lltakemycar.”

Iturnaroundandseejustwhathiscaris.Myjawdropsopen.“OhmyGod.It’sbeautiful,”I

whisper,rushingovertoitandrunningmyhandalongthehood.ThebrandnewblackRangeRoveris

amazing.Isuddenlyfeellikedriving.“CanIdrive?”

“No,”hesays,openingthepassengerdoorforme.

“Whynot?”Iask,deflating.“Ithoughtyou’reheretotryandmakemehappy.Thiswillmakeme

temporarilyveryhappy.”

Heignoresmeandgetsintothedriverseat.Iclosemydoorandputmyseatbelton,eyingthe

interior.Whenhestartstheengine,“Neverbelikeyou”byFlumefillsthecar,bringingmebacktothe

realityofmylife.Irubmychest,wonderingwhythingshavetobethisway.Iknowbadthingshappento

goodpeople.Iknownoteveryonegetswhattheywantinlife.WhatIdon’tknowishowI’mmeanttodeal

withlosingsomeonesoclosetome.SomanythingsItookforgranted,somanytimesIactedacertain

wayandnowwishIhadn’t.ThereweretimeswhenIthoughtIwasn’tevenhappy,butnow?Iwishfor

thosetimesoncemore.DeanturnsdownthevolumeandIcanfeelhisgazeonme.“Youokay?”

“Yeah.”Inod,forcingasmile.“Ican’thideforever,right?Ineedtofacewhatmylifeisnow.”

Ineedtoconquerit.

“You’llgetthere,”hesays,soundingconfident.“You’vealwaysbeenstrong,Sabina.”

I’mgladsomeonethinksso.He’sprobablyreferringtothefactthatbecauseIdon’thaveaclose

relationshipwithmyparents,I’vebasicallydoneeverythingalone.WhenIturnedeighteen,theybasically

toldmeitwastimeformetomoveout,andthat’swhenImovedinwithBen.

Ilickmysuddenlydrylips.“Canwestopatthebottleshop?”

Heglancesatme,thenbackattheroad.“Yeah,Iguessso.Whatdoyouwanttoget?Youaren’t

goingtogetshit-facedtonightareyou?BecauseIkindoftoldKatewe’dcomeoverforbreakfast

tomorrow.”

Myheadsnapstohim.KateisBen’smother.Mymother-in-law,oratleastshewas,andtobe

honest,sheisn’toneofmyfavouritepeople.She’snotaniceperson,andsinceBenisnolongerhere,I

shouldn’treallyhavetodealwithher.BenandIhavenochildren;hewasmyonlytietoKate.She’s

Dean’sauntthough,soIcan’treallysayanyofthat.

Shit.

“Idon’twanttogo,”Itellhim,crossingmyarmsovermychest.“Idon’twanttohaveafucking

familybreakfast,Dean.Benisgone,andI’mnotgoingtositthereathismother’stableandpretend

everythingisokay.Sheneverevenlikedme.”

AndIneverlikedher,althoughIwasneverrudeoranythinglikethat.Iwasraisedtorespectmy

elders,andIgavehermuchmorerespectthanshedeserved,becauseshewasBen’smother.

“Don’tmakemegoalone,Sabina,”hesaysquietly,tonealmostpleading.“Idon’twanttogo

either,butI’veavoidedthemenough.Idon’tneedanotherlecturefrommyownmotheraboutthe

importanceoffamily.”

Iscrubmyhanddownmyface,wonderingwhenmylifebecamesomiserable.I’mnoteveninthis

familyanymore.Okay,Isoundlikeabitch,butIjustfeeltired.Drained.Exhausted.AndseeingKateis

notsomethingIwanttodealwith.Ican’texactlythrowDeantothewolveswhenhe’sbeensogoodtome

though.Heevenchangedmybedsheets,puttingafreshwhitesetonwithoutacomplaint.

“Fine,”Itellhim,draggingthewordout.“ButIdon’twanttohearanyjudgementwhenIleavethe

bottleshopwithmorealcoholthanIcouldpossiblyconsume.”

“Deal.”

Istudyhisprofile,wonderingwhatbroughthimbacktotown.He’sfamousnow,andhedoesn’t

needtobehere.Hisparentsdon’tlivehereanymore,theymovedeastafterDeanmadeitbig,soit’sonly

Ben’smother,herhusband,andtheirtwosonswhoremain.Idon’tevenknowifhe’sclosewithhistwo

cousinsornot,butIdon’tthinkhe’sseentheminawhile.I’dreadinoneofthegossipmagazinesthat

DeanisdatingtheactressBellaReed,butIdon’tknowhowmuchofthatistrue.Idon’tfeellikeit’smy

placetoask,eventhoughI’mcuriousashell.

Ilookstraightaheadandleanmyheadback.Thisismyfirsttimeleavingthehouseinsolong,and

I’mgoingtobuyfoodandboozewithasexy-as-sinfamousmusicianandIstilldon’tfeelhappy.

Whatifit’salwayslikethis?

TheconcerningpartisthatIdon’tknowifI’lleversnapoutofthisfunk.Idon’tknowwhoIam

withoutBen.

ChapterThree

“Isthathatmeanttobeyourdiabolicaldisguise?”Iask,smirkingaswegetoutofthecar.

Hepullsitdownlowonhishead.“Noonewillrecogniseme.”

“Yes,theywill,”Isay,browfurrowing.“Yougrewupheresoeveryoneworshipsyou.You’rethe

localtreasure.They’lldefinitelyrecogniseyou,Dean.”

“We’llbequick,”hesays,noddingtothegrocerystore.“Let’sgo.”

Ifollowhiminside,feelingamusementasIwatchhimgrabatrolleyandpushittowardsthefirst

aisle.

“When’sthelasttimeyouwentfoodshopping?”Iaskhim,scanningthefruitselection.

Heclearshisthroat,thensays,“Idon’tknow.Months,maybe.”

Imakeatsktsksound.“Howdoesitfeeltobeamongstthecommonfolk?Usplebs?”

Hethrowsmealookthatclearlytellsmetoshutup,butallIdoisflashhimagrin,thenstart

loadingthetrolleywithvariousfruitsandvegetables.Adecentmealdoessoundgood.Tarahasdropped

foodoffeveryday,tryingtogetmetoeat,butallIdidwasconsumethebareminimum.Theloosenessof

myjeanstellsmejusthowmuchI’vebeenneglectingmyself,andit’stimeformetogetoutofmyslump

andgetmyshittogether.Deanisright,Ican’tgoonlikethisanymore.Otherpeoplelosesomeonethey

loveeveryday,buttheygetthroughit.

AndIwilltoo.

We’redownthesecondaislewhenIhearawomansaytoherfriend,“OhmyGod,isthatDean

Amore?”

MyheadsnapstoDean,andIcatchhiswince.Hekeepspushingthroughtheaisle,atafaster

speedthistime.

“Disguisefail,”Imutterundermybreath.

“Fuck,”hewhispers,turningaroundandlookingbehindhimasthewomenstarttofollowhim.

“Doyouwanttogotothecar?”Iaskhim,quicklyduckingbehindadisplayofnappies.“Ican

finishupherealone.”

“No,”hesays,shakinghishead.“IhavetogettheshitIneedtocookdinnertonight.”

Myeyebrowshitmyhairline.“You’recookingdinnertonight?Willwondersnevercease?”

“Wellatleastthefireinyouisback,”hesaysinadrytone,glancingupatthenappiesstackedina

hugepile.“Great,nextthey’llbesayingIknockedsomeoneup.”

Iglancearound.“There’snopaparazzihere,Dean.Thisisn’tthebigcity.”

Howeverifthosewomentakeaphoto,itcouldbeplasteredalloversocialmedia,whichiskind

ofthesamething.“Ormaybeyou’reright.Whatdoyouwantmetodo?”

“Yougonnasaveme?”heasks,hissmilehittinghisgreeneyes.“There’snothingwecando,let’s

justgetwhatweneedandbounce.”

Werusharoundthestore,grabbingeverythingwethinkwe’llneed.We’reintheice-creamaisle

whenthewomencatchupwithus.

“OhmyGod,Dean,itisyou!”onegushes,closingthespacebetweenthemandtouchinghisarm.

“CanItakeaphotowithyou?Iloveyouandyourmusicsomuch!Yourpictureismyphonewallpaper!”

Sheslidesupnexttohim,likethey’veknowneachotherforyears,completelyinvadinghis

personalspace.

Ohwow.

Isthiswhathehastogothrougheverytimeheleavesthehouse?Peopleactinglikehe’s

communityproperty?Theotherwoman,ayounger-lookingbrunette,stepstohisotherside.“CouldIget

yoursignature?Myfriendsaren’tgoingtobelievethis….”

Deanlooksuncomfortable,andfairlyso.Itrytostepinandsavehim.

“Listen,ladies,”Isay,steppingclosertoDeanandslowlynudgingthemoutoftheway.“How

aboutaquickphoto,butyoubothneedtostayquietabouthimbeinghere?Hiscousinjustdiedandhe’s

tryingtomourninpeace,withouteveryoneknowinghiswhereabouts.”

Yes,ashittycardtoplay,butit’salsothetruth.

“Whoareyou?”theolderoneasks,eyesnarrowing.

Great,sheprobablythinksI’mhisnewgirlfriendandisgoingtotryandfightmeorstartahate

pageonsocialmediaorsomething.

“I’mhislawyer,”Isay,smilingevilly.“Anyotherquestions?”

Sheshakesherhead.

Itaketwophotos,andthengrabDeanbyhisbicepandpullhimonoutofthere.

“Mylawyer?”heasks,soundingamused.“Youdroppedoutoflawschool.”

Irollmyeyes.“Ididn’tdropout,Ichangedmymindandchoseadifferentdegree.”

Iendedupinbusinessandfinance,andnowworkinabank.Lawjustwasn’tforme.Thenagain,

neitherisworkingatabank,butitpaysthebillsandthensome.Wecheckoutinpeaceandthenrushtothe

car.Deanwon’tletmehelpliftthebagsintotheback,becauseapparentlyhe’saNeanderthal,soIsitin

thecarwaitingforhim.Hedidn’tletmepay,either.Itried,buthewon.Idon’tlikeitwhenhewins.I

watchasheputsthetrolleyawaythenslidesintothedriverseat.

“Let’sjustorderthegroceriesonlinenexttime,”Iannounce.

Deanthrowshisheadbackandlaughs.

*****

“Isitalwayslikethat?”Iaskhimasweunpackthefoodtogether.

“Worseusually,”hesays,shrugging.“Idon’tknow,I’vekindofgottenusedtoitnow.Itcomes

withthejob,youknow?”

“Whatareyoucookingtonight?”Iask,changingthesubject.IlineupthefourbottlesofalcoholI

boughtonthewayhome,wonderingwhichoneweshoulddrinkfirst.Maybeweshouldjusthavethered

winewithdinner.Ifindmyselflookingforwardtoit,sinceit’sbeensolongsinceIhadagoodmeal.

“Chickenfriedrice,”hesayscasually,hisbacktomeasIpinmygazeonhim.

Chickenfriedriceismyfavouritethingtoeat.Howdidheknowthat?IguessTaramusthavetold

him.Inthismoment,IacknowledgejusthowthoughtfulamanDeanreallyis.Thefamehasn’tseemedto

changehimonebit.He’sobviouslyashumbleasever,otherwisehewouldn’tbestandinginmykitchen,

helpingme,nevermindgettingreadytocookmeameal.

“Doyoucookoften?”Ifindmyselfasking,wonderingifhe’slikethisallthetime,orifit’sjust

becausehe’sworriedaboutme.

“Notreally,”hesays,turningtofaceme.“I’mhardlyhome.IfI’mnotontour,I’musuallystill

doingsomekindoftravelforinterviewsorappearances,orI’minthestudio.”Hepausesandshrugs.

“AndwhenIamhome,Ihaveachef.”

Achef.

Themanhashisownpersonalchef.

“Wow,”Imutterundermybreath.

“That’sit?”heasks,leaningagainstthecountertop.“You’renotgoingtogivemeanyshit?”

Dootherpeoplegivehimcrapforlivingalifeofluxury?Iwonderiftheydo,andthat’swhyhe

madethatcomment.Thethoughtannoysme.

“WhywouldIgiveyoushitfordoingsowellforyourselfthatyouhaveachef?”Iask,archingmy

brow.“Youworkhard,Dean,andyou’reamazingatwhatyoudo.Ownit.Don’tworryaboutwhatother

peoplehavetosay.They’reprobablyjustjealous.”Ishrugandadd,“AndtobehonestIwasjustthinking

abouthowhumbleyoustillare.That’swhatmatters.Youhaveeverything,butyou’restillthesame

person.”

Heduckshishead,asifshy.“Wehavetobeatbreakfastatnine.”

“Great,”Imurmur,andthenfeellikeatotalbitch,becausethewomandidjustloseherson.“No,

you’reright.Ishouldbethere.”

Henods,obviouslyagreeing.Yes,she’snotthemostkind-heartedwomanoutthere,butsheisstill

Ben’smother.It’stheleastIcandotogooverthereandseehowshe’sholdingup.Ihaveonlyspokento

heroncesincethefuneral,whensherangtoaskwhenshecouldcomeoverandpickupanyofBen’s

possessionsthatshewantedtokeep.Itoldhertocomewhenever,butsheneverdid,orshedidandIwas

inmyhazeofsadnessanddidn’thearheratthedoor.

“Whatshouldwedountildinnertime?”Iaskhim,havingnothingtodonowthatallthefoodisput

away.“OrcanIgobacktobed?IthinkIdidwell,fordayone.”

“Definitelynotgoingbacktobed.Forwardnotbackwards,Sabina.Whydon’twegotothebeach

orsomething?I’msureyoucouldusetheexerciseafterbeinginbedforsolong,”hesays,flashingme

thosedimplesofhis.TheyaresodeepthatIwanttopokethemwithmyfinger.

“Thebeachactuallysoundslikeagoodidea,”Itellhim.

Ilovethebeach.Ineedtoberemindedjusthowgoodlifecanbe.

AndIneedtobesurroundedbyallthethingsIlove.

ChapterFour

Ismileatthewarmthfromthesunonmyskin.Rollingoverontomystomachonthetowel,Iliftmy

headandlookoveratDean,whoislyingnexttomereadingabookwhileIgetmytanon.Afterwe

walkedalongthebeachforanhour,wewentforaswim,andarenowrelaxingonthesandasIhopemy

paleskinmightturnthecolourofDean’snaturallytanone.Thebeachisdeserted,sowedon’thaveto

worryabouthimbeinghoundedbyfans.

“Thanksfordraggingmeoutofbedtoday,”Isaytohim.

“Iknowit’snoteasy,”hesays,closinghisbook.“IwantedtocomeearlierbutIhadtofinishthe

tour.ThenIranintoTaraandshetoldmeyouweren’tdoingsowell,andIknowhowsoftsheis,soI

thoughtI’dtrythewholetoughlovething.”

Ismileathisdescriptionofmybestfriend.Taraisverysoft.She’skind-heartedandgentle,and

alsohilarious,butthere’snowayshe’dgivemeanykindoftoughlove.Shetookcareofmeinherway,

andIloveherforthat.Dean,however,gavemethejoltofrealityIneeded.Itfeelsgoodtobeoutofthe

house.ImissBensomuch,buthe’snotcomingback,andIneedtodealwiththat.Ineedtogetusedtoit.

There’snoalternative.Thisismylifenow.I’mawidow.

“Iappreciateit,”Itellhim,reachingoutandtouchinghisshoulder.“I’mgladyou’rehere,Dean.”

“Happytobehere,”hereplies,reopeninghisbook.Ilaythesideofmyheadbackonthetowel.

Westaylikethisuntilthesunsets,andthenweheadbackhome.Iputatowelonthebedinthespare

bedroom,whereIassumeDeanwillbestayingtonight.Hehasn’tsaidifhe’sstayingwithKateornot,but

Iwouldn’twanttostaythere.He’swelcomehereanytime,andtobehonest,Ilikehimbeinghere.His

companyisjustthedistractionIneedrightnow.AfterahotshowerIfindhimstandinginthekitchen,

freshoutoftheshowerhimself,startingdinner.He’swearingapairofblackbasketballshortswithat-

shirt,hisfeetbare.

“Doyouwantmetohelpwithanything?”Iask,leaningmyelbowsonthecountertop.

“Nope,”hesays,notbotheringtoturnaroundandlookatme.

“WhatamImeanttodothen?”Iask.Idon’twanttodonothing,becausethat’swhenmymind

startstowandertoplacesitdoesn’tneedto.Idon’twanttothink.Iwanttojustpretendthateverythingin

mylifeisokay,untilitreallyis.Fakeittillyoumakeit.MaybeIcanmakemyselfthinkthatI’mfine.Lock

allmyemotionsawayinabox,andburyitdeep.SodeepthatnotevenIcanfindit.

“Takeaseatandrelax,”hesuggests,choppinganonionwithaprecisionthatimpressesme.

Myeyesfindthebottleofwine.Igrin,grabtwowineglassesoutofthecupboard,popthebottle,

andpour.Hefinallygivesmehisattention,greeneyesnarrowingontheamountsIputintheglasses.

“Prettysureyou’renotmeanttofillthemuptothetop,”hesays,soundingslightlyamused,faintly

horrified.Ishenotmuchofadrinker?I’mnotusuallyeither.I’llhaveawinewithdinner,andafew

drinksoutwiththegirlseverynowandthen,butnoonehaseverworriedaboutmyalcoholconsumption

before.

“Sayswho?”Iask,raisingmybrow.“Areyouthewinepolicenow,orsomething?Addingthatto

yourresume,alongwithfamousmusicianandheartthrob?”

“Sayseveryone,”herepliesflippantly,returningtohisvegetablechopping.

“Goodthingyoudidn’tbecomealawyereither,”Imutterundermybreath,thentakemyfirstsip.

It’sdelicious.IletDeanknow.Hedidbuythebottleafterall;hewouldn’tletmepayforthealcohol,

either.IdecidethatI’mgoingtopayforeverythingelseweneedforthenextfewdaysuntilheleaves.

Yeah,I’mnotrichlikehim,butImakeagoodliving.I’dprobablyhavemoresavingsifIdidn’thavea

designerbagaddiction,butthat’sawholeotherstory.

“Yourhair’sgottenlonger,”hesaysafteramomentofsilence.

Itouchmydampdarklocksandnod.“Yeah,Ithinkitlooksbetterlonger.It’shardertomaintain

though.Youshouldhaveseenhowharditwastobrushtheknotsoutthismorning.”

“Ilikeit,”hesays,eyingme.“Andthat’sprobablybecauseyouhadn’tbrusheditinlongerthanI

caretomention.”

Irollmyeyesathimandtakeanothergulpofwine.“You’renotgoingtocutmeanyslack,are

you?”

“Isthatwhatyouwant?”heasks,washinghishandsinthesink.“Tarawasreallyworriedabout

you,Sabina.Shewascryingasshewastellingmethatshedoesn’tknowwhattodo,thatitkillshertosee

youlikethis.”

Thatcommentsobersmeup.“Idon’twanttohurtanyone,Dean.I’mjustdealingwiththecards

I’vebeendealtinthebestwaypossible.”

“Igetthat,”hesays,grabbinghisveryfullglassofwineandtakingasip.Istareatthetattoosthat

runuphisrightarm—afullsleeve.“Look,ifyoueverneedanyone,I’mhere,allright?Myline’salways

open.Youneedme,I’llbehere.”

Myexpressionsoftens.“Thanks,Dean,”Isay,pushingmyhairbackbehindmyear.“Andright

backatyou.Ineveraskedyouhowyou’vebeendoingwitheverything.”

HowmuchofashitpersonamI?I’vemadethistheSabinashow,butDeanlosthisbloodrelation.

“I’vebeenkeepingbusy,”hesays,smilingsadly.EventhoughIcanseethesadnessinhiseyes,his

dimplesstillpopup,contradictinghisfeelings.Thistime,IdowhatI’vebeenwantingtoandreachmy

indexfingerup,touchingtheoneonhisleftcheek.

“Didyoujustpokemycheek?”heasks,blinkingslowly.Hereachesoutandtouchesmyforehead.

“Ithinkyougottoomuchsuntoday,Sabina.Especiallyafterbeinglockedawayallthistime.Weshould

havebrokenyouinslowlyinsteadoflettingyoulieinthesunallafternoon.”

Ismirkandlookdownintomywine,whichishalfgonenow.“Youhavethecutestdimplesisall.

I’veheardwomentalkingaboutthem.”

“Isthatwhattheytalkabout?Mydimples?”heasks,hisvoicetakingonaplayfulnote.“Notmy

voice,ormyabs,justmydimples?”

“Yourabs?”Iask,eyesgoingwide.“Doyouthinkyou’reafitnessmodelorsomethingnow,

Dean?”

Heprobablycouldbeone,butthat’snotthepoint.

Hechucklesandstartstocutupsomechicken.“Yousawmeatthebeachtoday,whatdoyou

think?”

ForthefirsttimesinceIlostmyhusband,Ilaugh.Imeanatruelaugh,onethatstartsinyour

stomachandworksitswayoutwards.Idon’tknowifit’sthewine,orifit’smelosingmymind,butI

laugh.

Andmysoulfeelslighterforit.

*****

“DidTaratellyouthatthiswasmyfavouritemealofalltime?”IaskhimafterIswallowmyfirst

mouthful.

“No,”hesays,puttinghisphonedownandgivingmehisfullattention.“Iremember.Wewenton

familyholidaystogether,Sabina.Everyoneknowsyou’reahugefanofanyAsianfood,friedricein

particular.”

“Oh,”Isay,eyeswidening.“You’reprettyobservant,aren’tyou?”

“No,”hesays,smirking.“It’ssomethingobvious.Youdon’thavetobeobservant,youjusthaveto

bepayingasmallamountofattentiontoyou.”

Ireplayhislastlineinmyhead.

Iputmyforkdown,thinkingofthetimewehadacouples’gamesnighthereatthehouse.Benwas

askedwhatmyfavouritefoodwas,andheansweredwithpasta,whichIalsolove,butitwasn’tright.

Hedidn’tknowwhatmyfavouritefoodwas.Hedidn’tpayattention.SoDeancandenybeing

observantallhewants,butheis.

“Yoursisfishandchips,”Itellhim,pushingawaythethoughtsofBen.“Youorderiteverytime

wegosomewhere.Thesamething,overandover.”

“It’sasafeoption,”hedefends,eyesgentling.“AtleastIalwaysknowI’llgetsomethingthatI

like.Youcan’treallyfuckupfishandchipsthatbad.Ifitdoesn’ttastethatgreatyoujustsmotheritin

sauceanditbecomesgreat.”

Ishakemyheadathisreasoning.“Oryoucould,Idon’tknow,trysomethingnew.Livealittle,

maybe.”

“Oh,Ilive,”hesays,hisvoicegoingslightlyhuskierthanusual.

Whenhesaysnothingelse,Iprod.“That’sallyou’regoingtosay?Youcan’tsaythatlinelikethat

andthennotelaborate.”

Hejustlaughs,butgivesmenothing.

Ishereferringtohissexlife?Itmustbeinsane,andhecouldhavethechoiceofanywomanhe

wants.Accordingtothetabloids,he’sbeendoingalotofliving.Meanwhile,I’veonlybeenwithoneman

myentirelife,andIdon’tthinkI’llbechangingthatanytimesoon.Suchdifferentliveswe’veled.

“You’restayinghere,right?”Iaskhim,makingsure.

Henods.“Ifthat’sokay.”

“Morethanokay.”

“Good,”hesays,liptwitching.

Wefinishthemeal,chattingandjokingwitheachother,andthenIcleanupbecausehecooked,

eventhoughheofferstohelp.

Wewatchamovie,andIfallasleephalfwaythroughit,sohecarriesmetomybed.

“Goodnight,”Imumblesleepilyasheleavesmybedroom.

“Night,Sabina,”Ihearhimsay,beforeIfallintoadeepsleep.

ChapterFive

“Sabina,howhaveyoubeen?”Kateasksmeatbreakfastthenextmorning.“Wehaven’treally

heardfromyou,soIguessnowthatBen’sgonewe’renothingtoyou?Afterallwe’vedoneforyou.”

I’mabouttoopenmymouthandtellherjusthowfuckingrudesheis,whenIglancearoundand

seeBen’syoungerhalf-brotherswatchingme.Iexhale,calmingmyself.

Theyhaven’tdoneanythingforme,andI’dlovetotellherthat.Ofcourseshehadtomakesucha

commentinfrontofeveryone.Thewomanhasnoclass.Hernewhusband,Daryl,whoisawealthyman,

offersmeakindsmile.Howshegothimtoloveher,I’llneverknow,becauseheactuallyseemslikea

decentman.Ifeelsorryforhimforhavingtoputupwithheronadailybasis.

“AuntKate,”Deansays,tryingtosavemyass.“Canwejusthaveanicebreakfasttogether,

please?”

Shelooksathernephew,andit’slikeIcanseethedollarsignsinhereyes.Katevaluesmoney

morethananything,andeveryoneknowsDeanhasalotofit.

“Ofcourse,honey,”shesays,flashingafakesmile.“We’resogladtohaveyouhere.AlthoughI

don’tknowwhyyoucan’tstaywithus.”Shelooksatmeandliftsherchinup.“AlthoughIguessSabina

wantsyoutostayatherhouse.”

Whatexactlyissheinsinuatinghere?

WhenIfirstmetKate,Ithoughtshewasalittleintimidating.Shedemandedrespectfromeveryone

aroundher,lovedtospeakaboutherwealthandgold,andIcouldtellhersonreallylovedher.Ikeptmy

distance,asIusuallydofrompeople,butmadesureIwasalwayskind,polite,andrespectful.Myfamily

didn’treallywantmetomarryBen.They’dheardthingsabouthisfamily.Badblood,theysaid.

Ididn’tlisten,ofcourse,whichpushedmyparentsevenfurtheraway,ifthat’spossible.

Iwasheadoverheelsinlove,andIwasgoingtoletfuturemeworryaboutanyconsequences.I’d

neverbeeninlovebefore.

Inotherwords,Iwasdonefor.

However,Ithinkthebadbloodtheyspokeofmusthavebeenhismother.Shehasaveryevil,

conniving,manipulativeside,oneI’veexperiencedfirsthand.Therearealsolotsofrumoursaboutherthat

goaround,mainlyaboutherbeingagolddigger,andnottreatingpeopleverynicely.“Iwantedtostay

thereandmakesureshe’sdoingokay,”Deansaysinapatienttone.“Youallhaveeachother,butshe’s

alonethere.Benwouldhavewantedmeto.”

ThatshutsKateup,andIfeellikegivingDeanahighfive.

Therestofthemorningpassesslowly.AfterbreakfastweallsitoutsidewhileBen’shalf-brothers

swimintheirpool.

“Whenisitokaytobail?”Deanasksme,approachingmewhileI’mlyingononeoftheir

hammocks.

“Aboutanhourago,”Itease,blockingthesunlightwithmyhand.“Doyouwanttogonow?”

Henods.“Yeah,Ithinkwe’vedoneourtime.”

Igrinathischoiceofwords,thenhopdownfromthehammockandsaybyetoBen’sbrothers.

“You’releavingsosoon?”Kateasks,lookingbetweenthetwoofus.“WhenwillIseeyouagain,

Dean?Howlongareyoustayingfor?”

“Justacouplemorenights.I’llcomeandseeyoubeforeIheadout,”Deansays,kissingheronher

cheek.“MaybeIcouldtaketheboysoutsomewhere,spendsometimewiththem.”

“I’msurethey’dlovethat.”Katebeams,hersmiledroppingassheturnstoaddressme.“I’llbe

overoneofthesedaystohelppackupBen’sbelongings.TherearesomegoldchainsofhisthatIwantto

givetohisbrothers;I’msureyouunderstand.”

“Kate,”Deanchides,ascowlappearing.“Nowisnotthetime,andit’suptoSabinawhatshe

wantstodowithBen’sbelongings.”

“Youcangivethemwhateveryouwant,Idon’tmind,”Itellherinasmallvoice.AndIdon’t.As

longasIhaveourphotoalbums,that’sallIreallycareabout.Andmaybeafewofhist-shirtstosleepin.

IappreciateDeantryingtostickupformethough.

“Whenwillthelifeinsurancemoneycomein?”shethenasks,makingmefreeze.

I’mabouttoopenmymouthandtellherthatunlikeher,moneydoesn’tmakemyworldspin,and

thatIhaven’tevenrungtheinsurancecompany,whenDeanwrapshisarmaroundmeandspeaksforme.

“AuntKate,nowisnottheappropriatetimetotalkaboutthis.”

Heleadsmeout,andIfollowhimblindly,speechless.Ididn’twanttocomehere,andIwishI

hadn’t.Still,Iwouldn’twantDeantobeherealone,either.Heopensmycardoor,foreverthegentleman,

andIhopinandputmyseatbelton.

“Sorry,”hesays,whenhegetsintothecar.Icanhearthecringeinhistone.“She’sso

inappropriate.Ifitwasn’tformymumandmycousins,I’dneverbothertocomehereinthefirstplace.”

“It’sfine,”Isay,crossingmylegs.“I’vebeendealingwithherforyearsnow.”

“Iknow,”hesimplysays,soundingappropriatelysympathetic.

“Ihaven’tdoneanythinginthelastmonth,definitelynotcallingBen’sinsurancecompanyasking

forhislifeinsurancemoney.Itdidn’tevencrossmyminduntilshementionedit,”Isay,turningtolookat

Dean.“Hersonjustdiedandshe’sthinkingaboutmoney?Ican’tbelievehersometimes.”

IknowthatshelovedBen,butDeansummeditupperfectly:she’ssofuckinginappropriate.

“Whathavewegotplannedfortherestoftheday?”Iaskhim,knowingthatgoingbacktobed

isn’tanoption.Atleastit’snotwhilehe’sstillhere.Thesecondheleavesthough,IknowexactlyhowI’m

goingtobespendingmydaysuntilIhavetoreturntowork.

“Idon’tknow.Whatdoyouwanttodo?Nameitandwe’lldoit,”hesays,thenadds,“Except

sleepingorstayinginbed.”

“There’salwaysacatch,”Imutter,thenrackmybrainthinkingofthingsthatI’dactuallyenjoy

doingtoday.“Youcan’treallygooutinpublic,sothatlimitstheoptions.”

“No,”hesays,acquiescing.“ButIdocomewithsomeotherprostomakeupforthat.”

Ieyehimwarily.“Suchas?”

Isupposehewouldhavesomepros,buttheonesthatIcanthinkofIwouldn’tbecomfortable

with.I’mnotgoingtolethimthrowhismoneyaroundtotryandtemporarilycheermeup,nomatterhow

muchIappreciatethegesture.

“Wecouldtravelsomewhere,orwecouldgoseeanyconcertthat’sintownwithbackstage

access.Wecouldhireoutyourfavouriterestaurantsonooneelseisthere….”Hepausesandglancesat

me.“Butknowingyou,youwouldn’twantanyofthosethings.Sohowaboutahikeandapicnic?Away

fromeveryone,andwegettogooutandaboutandseesomecoolviews.”

Ismilewidely.“Thatsoundsperfect.”

Hemakesanoiseofamusementinhisthroatandshakeshishead,hisbrownhairmoving.“We

couldflytoNewOrleansandhavebeignets,orflytoVegastohitoneoftheirclubs,butno,that’stoo

muchforyou,isn’tit?”

“UnlessI’mpayingforit,”Isay,shrugging.“Look,you’reallfamousandshit,Igetit.Butthat

doesn’tmeanI’mgoingtotakeadvantageofthat,itjustdoesn’tfeelright.It’syoursuccess,notmine.”

Hesighs,likeIdon’tgethimatall,andmutterssomethingunderhisbreaththatIdon’treally

catch.

“What?”Iaskhim.

“Nothing,Sabina,”hesays,grinning.“Hikeandpicnicitis.”

Ieyehimsuspiciously,butstayquiet.I’mhappythatIgettowearmynewsneakers.It’sbeenso

longsinceI’vebeenonahike,andI’mreallylookingforwardtoit.Benhatedhiking,oranything

outdoorsyreally,whileIlovethatshit.Ilovegoingonadventures.Tryingnewthings.Exploring.

Thetruthis—Ihaveawildsideinme.

Andit’sbeenawhilesinceIletherout.

*****

“Thisviewisinsane,”IcallouttoDean,laughingoncemorewhenIseehimcarryingthepicnic

basketinhismasculinehands.Youcan’thaveaproperpicnicwithoutthebasketandblanket,andwhenhe

offeredtocarrythemIwasn’tabouttosayno,however,hedoeslookkindofridiculous.Iwasgoingto

makesandwichesanddoanicelittlespreadforourexpedition,butDeansaidtherewasaplacewhere

theymadeitallupforyou,andallyouhadtodowaspayforit.SoIlethimthrowhismoneyatthe

situation,andinreturnwegotabeautifullycraftedbasketfilledwithgourmetgoodsforourlunch.I

broughtmyownblanket,atartanoneIboughtwhenIwasonholidayinScotland,andallinallIthinkwe

haveaprettysweetset-up.Wewalkedupthistrail,whichtookusanhour,andnowwecansitdownand

enjoythefood.Deanlaysouttheblanket,whileIdrinksomewaterthenpulloutmyhandsanitiserandrub

itintomyhands,thenofferittohim.

“Youcarryaroundhandsanitiser?”

Inod.

“Whatareyou,asoccermum?”heteases,butacceptsthelittlebottle.

“No,althoughIthinkI’dmakeagoodone.I’mjustagirlwholikesherhandstobegermfree.”

Hechucklesandhandsmebackthebottle,thenrubshishandstogether.Webothsitdownandopen

thebasket,pullingoutitsdeliciouscontents.Impressed,Ieyethecheese,crackers,coldcuts,olives,fruit,

andsandwichesandgivethemmyapproval.

“Lookssogood,”Isay,openingthecontainerwiththestrawberries.“Thisisthebestideayou’ve

everhad.Fuckmysandwiches,thislooksamazing!”

Hechucklesandsays,“I’msureyourswouldhavebeengreattoo,butIdidn’twantyoutohaveto

makethem.Iwantedyoutojustenjoy.You’vebeenthroughhellandback,Ithinkyoumorethananyone

deservetobespoiledalittle.I’monlyhereforalittlewhile,soit’stheleastIcandowiththelimits

you’veallowedme.”

Oureyesconnectandhold,hazelclashingwithgreen.

“You’reagoodman,DeanAmore.NexttimeIwon’tbelieveanythingthemagazinessayabout

you.”

Helaughsandpopsanoliveinhismouth.

Thenwedemolishtheentirespread.

ChapterSix

I’mfeelingdownagainbydinnertime.WhenIhavenothingdistractingme,thepainreturns.My

mindrememberswhathappened,whatI’velost,andIstarttofallbackintothathole.It’shard.Ican’tbe

doingsomethingeveryminuteofeveryday,althoughIcantry.AndIknowwhenDeanleavesandI’m

aloneinthehouseagainit’sgoingtogetworse.MaybeIshouldaskTaratomoveinwithmeforafew

weeks.

“I’mgoingtohelpyoupackupallofhisbelongings,”Deansays,makingmejump.Ididn’teven

knowhe’denteredtheroom.HelooksaroundwhatwasmyandBen’sbedroom,butisnowjustmine.His

clothesarestillinthewardrobe,hisshoesintheexactplacehelefttheminthecorneroftheroom.His

toothbrushisstillinitsholderinthebathroom,hisbathrobehangingonthebackofthedoor.

HowamImeanttogetridofallhisthings,likeheneverexisted?

“Idon’twantto,”Isayinasmallvoice.Thatmakesitreal,andIdon’twantthistobereal.No,I

wantthistobeadream,andwhenIwakeup,it’sgoingtobeinhisarms.

Deansitsdownonmymattress,thespringcreakingunderhisweight.Heglancesaroundmyroom,

thensays,“Iknowyoudon’twantto,Sabina,butyouneedto.Itdoesn’tmeanyouforgethim,youdon’t,

butyoucan’tpretendthatnothinghaschangedeither.Ithas.”

Iknowthis,Ido.

Still,Idon’tfuckingwanttodealwithit.

“Doyouwantmetodoitall?”heoffers,studyingmewithablankexpressiononhisface.“You

don’tevenhavetobehere.Youcangoforawalk,orgotoseeamovieorsomething.”

DidIwanttobehereforit?Willgoingthroughallhisstuffbeclosureforme,orwillitjustmake

memiserable?Idon’treallyknow.IdoknowthatIdon’twanttodealwithitrightnowthough.

“Whatwillyoudowithallhisclothesandstuff?”Iaskhim.

“Whydon’tyoutakewhateveryouwanttokeep,andtherestwe’llgivetoKate,”hesuggests.

“Shecandecidewhatshewantstodowitheverything.”

“Yeah,okay,”Imurmur,glancingaroundtheroom,wonderingwhatIwantedtokeepwithme.

Deanstandsandleavestheroom,givingmespace,andI’mthankfulforthat.Iwalktoourhis-and-

herwardrobe,openit,andlooktotheright,tohisside.Hisclothesstareatme,andIliftmyhandandrun

italongthem.Afterafewmoments,Itakeoutfourofhisfavouritet-shirtsandthesuitheworeatour

wedding.Ireachontopandtakedownallofourphotoalbums,andputthemallonthebed.There’sno

wayIwanttoloseanyofthose.Ikeephissignaturecolognebottle,alittlecreepy,buttheslightestwhiff

ofitremindsmeofhim,andIthinkthatcouldbecomforting.Everythingelsecango.

Iguessitdoesn’tbelongherewithouthim.

*****

“I’mgladyou’reoutandabout,”mybestfriendsays,wrappingherarmaroundme.“I’vemissed

you.”

IglanceawayfromtheTVscreentolookather.“I’vebeenstruggling.”

It’shardtoadmitoutloud,eventhougheveryoneknowsittobethetruth.Idon’twanttobeweak.

Idon’twantanyonetothinkofweaknesswhentheythinkofme.Iwantthemtothinkofstrength.Ofa

womanwhocan’tbepusheddowntothegroundwithoutgettingup.Afighter.Iamafighter.Eventhe

strongestofpeoplehavetheirmoments.Losingsomeoneyouloveisn’teasy,especiallywhenyouloveas

hardasIdo.IlovewitheverythingIhave,andgivemyalltothoseIlove.IwasallinwithBen.What

happenswhenthepersonyougiveallofyourselftoisgone?

Youstruggle.

Yougrieve,youabsorbthatpainandcarryitwithyoueverywhereyougo.Thatisstrength:the

abilitytogoonandpushforward,nomatterhowlongittakesyoutogetthere.It’snotarace.Everyone

healsindifferentways,intheirowntime.Idon’tknowwhenIwill,butIdoknowitwillhappen.I’m

hopeful,andhopeisapowerfulthing.

“Iknow,honey,”shesays,facecrumpling.“Iknow.I’vebeenstrugglingwatchingyoustruggle.”

Sherestsherhandonmineandgivesitalightsqueeze.“SoDean’spackingupallofBen’s

things?”

Inodmiserably.“Yeah.Iknowitshouldbemedoingit,butIthinkI’mstillindenial.”

“You’llgetthere,Bina.I’mjustgladthatyou’veleftyourbedandhadashower.”Shepausesthen

adds,“Andwashedyourhair.Brushingitmusthavebeenquitethemission.”

“Youhavenoidea.”Igroan,thenlaughalittle.“IjustwantedtopretendIdidn’texist,youknow?

Butnowit’stimetofaceeverything.”

Shenods,tuckingherblondehairbackbehindherear.“Iknewyou’dgetthere.Seeingyounot

eatingscaredmethough,becausefoodisyourlife.”

Irollmyeyes,eventhoughitreallyis.

“HowdeliciousisDean,bytheway?Ihaven’tseenhimsinceBen’sbirthdaylastyear.I’m

surprisedheevenrememberedmyname!”shesays,fanningherself.“He’sevenhotterinperson,Ithink.

Youshouldaskhimforticketstohisnextconcert.”

“Whydon’tyouaskhim?”Isay,smirking.“Idon’twanttoask,I’dratherjustbuythemmyself.”

“Andberightinthebackasopposedtofrontrow?”sheasks,sighing.“Whyareyousodamn

stubbornallthetime?Youaren’tgoingtoowehimanythingjustbecausehegaveyouconcerttickets.He’s

yourfamily.”

Ishe,though?HewasmyfamilythroughBen,andnowthereisnoBen.Soon,DeanandIwon’t

evenkeepintouch.He’lljustbesomeoneIusedtoknow,andI’lljustbehiscousin’swidow.Thethought

makesmesad.Deanhasreallycomethroughforme,andIdon’tknowwhatI’dhavedonewithouthis

help.I’dprobablyhaveleftBen’sclothesthereforeverlikeatotalcreep.

“It’slikeyousaid,Ijustdon’tlikefeelinglikeIowepeopleanything,”Isay,givinghertheshort

version.“IknowyousaythatIwon’t,butIwouldstillfeellikeIdid.Soit’seasiernotto.”Idon’tknow,

I’dratherjustrelyonmeandmealone,andIjusthateaskingforfavours.IfIaskyouforsomething,Itruly

trustyou.AndIdon’ttrustmanypeople.TaraandBenaretheonlyones.Andnowit’sjustTara.

Sheexpelsadeepsigh,silentlytellingmehowdifficultshethinksIam.“Doyouwanttodo

somethingorjusthangouthere?”

Iglanceatmywatch.“Wecouldcatchdinnerandamovieifyouwant?Myshout.Deansaidhe’ll

needacoupleofhours.”

“Soundsgood,”shesays,smiling.“Work’sbeenkillingme,andI’vebeensoworriedaboutyou.I

can’trememberthelasttimeIdidanythingfun.”

Tara’sanEnglishteacher.Idon’tknowhowshedoesit,especiallywithteachinghighschool,but

she’sgoodatherjob.Sometimeswhenthekidsaremeantoher,Ifeellikerockinguptotheschooland

threateningthem.Someoftheboysmakecommentstohertoo,becauseshe’sababeandthey’resixteen

anddouchebags.Butshehandleseverythingwithherusualgentlegrace,andIdon’tthinkthere’sanyone

whowouldmakeabetterteacherthanher.

“Besidesmessingmyhouseuptryingtomakemeeat?”Itease,playfullynudgingherwithmy

elbow.

“Priorities,Bina,”shesays,huffing.“Anditwasn’tthatmessy.Whatmovieshouldwesee?”

“Idon’tknow,I’llcheckonlineandseewhat’sontonight.”

Shebeams,herbeautifulsmilehittingmerightinthegut.“Excellent.Letmegoandgetdressed,I

can’tleavethehouselikethis.”Shemotionstohershortsandsinglettop,thenstandsandheadstoher

bedroom.

Ithinkabouthowhappysheisjusttospendsomequalitytimewithme.

Thesimplejoysoffriendship,that’ssomethingtopushforwardfor.

ChapterSeven

Iwalkintomyhouseandglancearound.Itlooksexactlythesame,butitfeelsdifferent.

“Dean?”Icallout,walkingthroughtheloungeroom.WhenIcan’tfindhim,Iopenmybedroom

doorbutdon’tenter.Ijuststandthereforafewmoments,unabletomove.Iturnthelighton,andatfirst

everythinglooksthesame.ButthenIstepintotheroomandseethathisshoesaren’tintheircorner.

Everythingthatbelongedtohimisgone.Iopenthewardrobe,andhissideisemptyexceptforthefew

itemsthatIdecidedtokeep.Everythingelseisgone,likeitneverexisted.Likeheneverlivedhere.Isit

downonthebed,strugglingtobreathe.Icalmmyself,takedeepbreaths,andtellmyselfthatthisneededto

happen.Anditdid.Butit’snoteasy.Itfeelssofinal.

He’sreallygone.

AndIneedtoacceptit.

“Hey,”Deansaysinasoftvoice.“Iwantedtobeherebeforeyougothome.”

WhenIdon’tsayanything,hecontinues,“IwenttodroptheboxesoffatKate’s.”

Ibetshewashappyaboutthat.

Inod,butkeepmygazeonmyhands.

“Areyouokay,Sabina?Doyouwanttobealone?”

Iraisemyfaceandlookathim.“Thanksfordoingthisforme.IknowIwouldn’thavebeenable

to.”

“Comehere,”hesays,openinghisarmstome.Istandandlaymycheekonhischest,fallinginto

hisembrace.Idon’tcrythistime,Ijustfeel…alittlebrokeninside.Ifeellost.I’mtrying,Ireallyam,but

Ithinkthattimeistheonlythingthat’sgoingtohelpmethroughthis.

“Everythinghurts,”Isay.

“Iknow,”hewhispers,runninghishanddownmybackincomfortingcircles.“You’redoingso

well.Onestepatatime.Getsomesleep,andeverythingwilllookbetterinthemorning,Ipromise.We’re

goingtogetoutofthehouse,getyourmindoffeverything.Ihavesomethingplannedforyou.”

ThelastthingIwanttodorightnowisleavethehouse,butInod.Tomorrowisanewday,andas

I’velearnt,distractioniskey.IbreatheinthescentofDean’scologneonhiswhitet-shirtandclosemy

eyes.

Finally,Iliftmyheadandglanceupathim,oureyesconnecting.“Didyouhavedinner?”

Henods.“KatemadesureIatesomething.”

“Good,”Isay,forcingasmallsmile.Itprobablycameoutasmoreofagrimace,butItried.“I

thinkI’mgoingtogotobed.I’llseeyouinthemorning?”

“Okay,”hesays,thenlowershisheadtokissmyforehead.“Ifyouneedme,I’mrighthere.

Anytime,Sabina.Ifyouwanttotalkinthemiddleofthenight,anything.”

“Iknow,”Isay,steppingawayfromhim.

Heleavesmyroom,closingthedoorbehindhim,andIslideintobedundermycovers,buryingmy

faceinmypillow.

Tearsdon’tcome,butsleepdoesn’teither.

*****

Iwakeuptomusic.

Barefoot,IwalkintothelivingroomwhereDeanisplayingguitarandsoftlysinging.Themusicis

beautiful.Isitdownonthecouchoppositehim,notwantinghimtostopinmypresence,butluckyforme

hecontinuestoplayandsingaboutunrequitedlove.Thesongishauntinglybeautiful.Heliftshisgaze

fromhisguitartomeandsmiles,andIknowrightthenandtherewhyhalfthewomenintheworldarein

lovewithhim.

“IhopeIdidn’twakeyouup,”hesaysashestopssingingbutcontinuestoplayhisinstrument.

“Areyoukidding?”Isay,grinning.“IfIwokeuptothateverymorningIdon’tthinkI’deverbe

grumpy,ever.You’resotalented.ImeanIknewyouwere,butthisis…wow.Whatabeautifulsong.Isit

new?”

Henods,eyeslightingup.“Yeah,you’rethefirsttohearit,actually.”

Weshareasmile.

“Don’tstoponmybehalf,”Itellhim.“Please,continue.”

Heflashesmeasmilethatshowsoffthosedimples,thencontinuestoplay.Iwatchhiminhis

element,andrememberthefirsttimeIsawhimandhisthenbandplayatschool.Hewasgoodthen,but

nowheissimplyamazing.Ilisteninaweuntilthesongisover,andwaitforhimtolookupatmebeforeI

starttoclapforhim.

“Everyoneisgoingtolovethatsong,”Itellhim,placingmyhandovermyheart.“There’ssomuch

emotioninit,it’slikeIcanfeelyourpain.Andwhenyousaythatline‘Nooneinthisworldwouldlove

youasmuchasIdo….’”Isighdreamily.“IthinkI’mgoingtoswoon.”

Deanthrowshisheadbackandlaughs.“SabinaReyesdoesnotswoon.”

“Shemightswoon,”Isay,liftingmychin.“IknowwhatI’mgoingtobelisteningtoonrepeatas

soonasyournewalbumdrops.”

Hehesitates,thenasks,“Haveyoulistenedtothetwothatareoutnow?”

“OfcourseIhave,”Isay,smilingwarmlyathim.“IalsowatcheveryperformanceI’mableto.I

keepuptodatewithallyouraccomplishments,Dean.Everyoneissoproudofyou.I’msoproudofyou.

Andnoonedeservesthesuccessmore.”

Heduckshishead,smiling.“It’sgoingtosoundsofuckingcliché,butit’smypassion.Ican’tsee

myselfdoinganythingelse,andIwouldn’twantto.I’ddoitevenifIwasstillbuskingonthesideofthe

road,andbehappy.”

ThisguyhasoneofthebestsoulsI’veencountered.Whoeverendsupwithhimisgoingtobeone

luckywoman.

“Irememberwhenyouwerebusking,”Isay,smirking.“I’dstopbyonmywaytomyofficejob

andgiveyoucoffee.”

“Yeah,”hesays,chuckling.“Iremember.”

“CanIaskyousomething?”Iask,emboldenedbyourtalk.

“Anything,”hesays,puttinghisguitardownonthecouch.

“BellaReed,”Iask,archingmybrow.“Trueorfalse.”

“Soyoudoreadthegossipmagazines,”hesays,shakinghisheadatmeinamusement.Heleans

backonmycouchandstudiesme.“Whatdoyouthinkaboutit?”

“Idon’tthinkanything,”Isayquickly,shrugging.“Iwasjustbeingnosyandwonderingifitwas

trueornot.Idon’twanttobekeepingyoufromanyone.”

“Youaren’t,Sabina,”hesaysinasofttonethat’smixedwithsomethingelse…anger?“I’mnot

withBella.We’rejustfriends.”

Friendswithbenefits?

Idon’tpryanymore,Ijustnodandsay,“Doyouwantsomepancakesandbacon?It’smyturnto

makesomethingforyou.”

“I’dlovesome,”hesays,standingwithmeandfollowingmetothekitchen.“You’reinamuch

bettermoodthismorning.”

“Ithinkyourmusicwokemeupinagoodway,”Isay,tyingmyhairuponmyheadinamessybun.

“I’mjustgoingtotryandenjoytheday.Besides,Ionlyhaveyouherefortwomoredays,soIwantto

makethemostofit.”

“Doyouwantmetoplaywhileyoucook?”heasks,grinningwolfishly.“Mightkeepyouinthis

moodallday.”

“Areyoukiddingme?I’dlovethat!”Isay,smilingwidely.MyveryownDeanAmoreconcertin

mykitchen.Somepeoplewouldkillforthismoment.I’mluckyenoughtoknowtheamazingpersonheis

firsthand,andthat’snotevenincludinghistalentasamusician.

HegrabshisguitarandsitsdownatthetablewhileIwhipupsomebreakfast.Notasfancyas

whathe’susedto,I’msure,butIalsoknowthathedoesn’tmind.

Andbesides,Imakeameanpancake,fancyornot.

*****

“Ican’tbelieveyoudidthis!”Isaytohim,staringatthebeautifulboatbeforeme.“I’vealways

wantedtogosnorkelling!”

Afterbreakfast,Deantoldmehewastakingmesomewhere,sotogetready,buthewouldn’ttell

mewhereweweregoing.Foragirllikeme,that’sprettymuchhell,becauseIliketobepreparedandI

liketobedressedfortheoccasion.Iputonapairofdenimshortsandacuteblacktop,anddidmyhair

andsomelightmakeup.IputsomelipstickinmybagsoIcanuseitifneedbe,ifIneedtolookalittle

dressier,buttheoutfitisprettymuchaday-to-nightone.NeverdidIimaginethathewasgoingtotakeme

onaboatthough!

“Iknow,”hesays,grinning.

Iplayfullyslapathisbicep.“Ididn’tbringmybikini.Youshouldhavejusttoldmewherewe

weregoingsoIcouldhaveplannedforthis!”

“It’sallsorted,relax,”hesays,helpingmeontotheboatandhandingmeabag.“Tarapacked

everythingforyou.”

Helooksextremelysmug,asheshould.Hepulledoffagreatsurpriseandmanagedtonailit.

GettingmystuffpackedformebyTarawasanepicmove.However,whenIopenthebag,Irealisethat

it’snotmystuffatall.It’sallbrandnewamazingitemsinthebag.Ablackbikini,anewwide-brimhat,

sunglasses,atowel,sunlotion,andapairofflip-flops.

Iglanceupathim.“Youdidn’t?”

“HowwasImeanttobringTaratopackyourstuff?You’dhavenoticed!SoIrangTara,wiredher

somemoney,andtoldhertopickupeverythingyou’dneedforadayatthebeach.”

“Youwiredhersomemoney?”Isay,tornbetweenbeinggratefulthathedidsomethingso

thoughtfulandwantingtoscoldhimfordoingsomethingsounnecessary.

Hewrapsanarmaroundmeandlooksmeintheeye.“Iknowyoudon’tlikeit,Sabina.Butit

makesmehappytodosomethingniceforyou,socanyoujustletitgo?Ihavealotofmoney,I’mnot

bragging,it’sjustafact,andifIcan’tdosomethingniceforthepeopleIcareaboutthenwhat’sthepoint?

It’snotlikeIboughtyouanewcarorsomething.”

He’sright,butstill.Itakeadeepbreathandwrapmyarmsaroundhim.“Thankyou,Dean.Idon’t

thinkanyonehasdonesomethinglikethisformebefore.”

Theyhaven’t.AndIdon’treallyknowhowtoreact.

“You’resogoodtome,Dean,”Isay,smilingupathim.“Todayisgoingtobethebestdayever.”

“Yes,itis,”hesays,touchingthecornerofmymouthwithhisthumb.“Becauseyou’realready

smiling.”

Hedropshishand,winksatme,andwalkstotheothersideoftheboat.

Butme?

Itouchthesideofmylipwherehisfingerjustwas.

ChapterEight

“WhatamIgoingtodowhenyouflybacktoLA?”Iaskhim,poppingagreengrapeinmymouth.

“I’mgettingusedtobeingspoilt.SoonI’llbebackatthebankhatinglife.”

Hechucklesandstealsoneofmygrapes.“Youcanalwayscomeandvisitme.”

“Maybeattheendoftheyear,”Ithinkoutloud,shrugging.“Iftheyletmetakemoretimeoffafter

this.”Ithinkaboutitandamendmystatement.“Probablynot.”

Iliftmyamazingnewsunglassesawayfrommyeyesandsetthemontopofmyhead.“CanIask

yousomething?Thesongsyouwritearemainlylovesongs.Isthatsomethingfromexperience?You’ve

neverbroughtagirlhomewithyoubefore,butI’veseenpicturesofyouwithdifferentwomen.”

“I’donlybringagirlhomeifIwasmarryingher,”hesays,smirking.“I’vedatedaround,yeah,but

nothingtooserious.Whyallthequestions,Sabina?Youinterviewingforamagazinenow?”

Ilaugh,turningmybodytofacehim.“Ishould.I’dmakeenoughfromthatinterviewthatIcould

quitthebank.”

Hethrowsagrapeatmyheadandithitsmeonmyforehead.

“Hey!”Iyell,rubbingmyforehead.“That’sgoingintheinterview!”

Helaughsandshakeshisheadatme.

Theboatcomestoastopinthemiddleofnowhere,soIgetoffthehammockandlookoverthe

edgeatthecrystal-bluewater.

“I’msofreakingexcited!”Isay,pullingmytopandshortsoff,leavingmeinmybikini.Iputiton

before,butputmyclothesbackoverit.Deanhasseenmeinabikinibefore,soIdon’tfeelshyinfrontof

him,andit’snotlikeIhaveanythinghehasn’tseenbetterversionsofbefore.Iturnaroundtoseewhat

he’sdoing,andfindhimalreadylookingatme.

“RemindmetothankTara,”IthinkIhearhimsay,butI’mnotsure.Hepullshist-shirtoffandhis

famousabsareallbutinmyface.It’skindofhardtoconcentrate.

“Doyouworkout?”Iblurtout.“BecauseallIseeyoudoiseat.”

Hegrins,andrunshishandthroughhishair.“IworkoutwhenI’mhome.Thisisabreakforme.”

“Oh,”Isay,turningtofacethewateragain.Ireallyneedtostopaskinghimsomanypersonal

questions,butIjustcan’thelpmyself.I’macuriousperson.“Whatiftherearesharksinthewater?”

“Swimfast,”hejokes,makingmescowl.

HejumpsintothewaterfirstwhileIlingerontheboatalittle,watchinghim.Hebeckonsmeto

joinhim,soIputonthesnorkellingmaskandlowermyselfintothewaterfromtheladderontheboat.

HandsreacharoundmywaistthesecondIenterthewater,makingmejumpalittle.

“I’llsaveyoufromanysharks,”hesaysinmyear,sendingshiversupmyspine,thenmovesaway.

Iturnaroundandswimafterhim,watchingashedivesunder.Idothesame.Immersedinwater,it’slikea

wholeotherworlddownhere.FishswimpastmeandItrynottosquirm.Itakeineverything,excitement

andadrenalinefillingmeasIstarttoswimdeeper,towardswhereDeanis.

TodayreallyisthebestdayI’vehadinavery,verylongtime.

*****

Afteranhourofswimming,we’rebackontheboat,enjoyingthesunshineandjustrelaxing.Dean

putstheradioonandwesingalongtothesongsthatweknow,himwithhisincrediblevoiceandmewith

mybelowaverageone.HelaughsatmeasIrapachorus,butthenjoinsinonthenextone.Ifeel…free,

evenifit’sjusttemporarily.That’stheonlywayIcanthinktoexplainit.IsmiletotheskyasIlookupat

theclouds,andwonderifBenislookingdownatmerightnow,alsosmiling.

“Whatareyousmilingandthinkingabout?”Deanasks.

Itellhim.“IwasthinkinghowhappyandfreeIfeelrightnow,andthenIwaswonderingifBenis

lookingdownonusrightnow,probablysmiling,justlikeIam.”

Deangoesquietafterthat,soIturntolookathim.He’slyingbackinhishammock,eyesclosed,

sunlighttouchingeveryinchofhim.He’sinhisblackboardshortsandnothingelse,hishandrestingon

hisrippedabs.HowhaveInevernoticedhowchiselledtheyarebefore?

“Thankyouforbringingmeouthere,”Itellhim.“Andforallthegiftsyouboughtme,eventhough

youshouldn’thave.”Ipursemylips,thenadd,“Anddon’tthinkIdon’tknowhowmuchtheycostbecause

Ido.Ilikedesignerstuff,it’smyweakness.”

“Iknow,”hesays,eyesstillclosed.“I’veseenallyourhandbags,Sabina.”

Icringealittle.“Weallhaveourvices.”

Likethatjustifiesmespendingmorethansomepeople’smonthlyrentonafuckinghandbag.

“Youdon’thavetoexplainyourselftome,”hesays,chucklingsoftly.“Ijustknewyou’dlikethat

stuff,andwithTarapickingitoutitwasaprettyfoolproofplan.”

Itreallywas.Andmorethanthat—itwasthoughtful.He’ssothoughtful.Hedidn’thavetodoany

ofthisforme,hedidn’thavetocomeandpullmeoutofbedandremindmetoliveagain,buthedid,and

I’llforeverbegratefultohim.

“Youaretoogoodtome,”Isay,lookingbackupatthesky.“IwishIcoulddosomethingforyou,

too.”

“Youdon’thaveto,”hesaysquickly.“Thiswasforyou,Sabina.Don’toverthinkit.Whatyoudo

formeisgivemepeaceofmindbylettingmeknowyou’llbeokaywhileI’mbackinLA.”

“I’llbefine,”Iassurehim.“Youdon’thavetoworryaboutme,Dean.Ijustneededalittletime,

andtobehonestitstillhurtsbutI’mfeelingalittlemoreoptimisticandhopefulnow.”

“Good,”hesayssoftly,somethinginhistonethatIcan’tpinpoint.“ButImeanit,youeverwantto

visit,I’llflyyouover.Youalwayshaveaplacetostayatmine.”

“Thanks,”Iwhisper,myvoicecracking.Idon’twanttogetemotionalinfrontofhim,buthis

wordsmeaneverythingtome.Iclearmythroat,closemyeyes,andjustenjoybeingalive.

Iwon’tbetakingitforgrantedeveragain.

*****

Bythetimewegethome,I’mexhausted,andsoisDean.

“Sodoyouwantmetoorderussomethingtoeat?”Iaskhim,yawning,onceIwalkbackintothe

livingroominmypyjamasafterahotshower.“Maybeagiantpepperonipizzaorsomething?”

“Yeah,I’llorderit.Youlooklikeyou’reabouttofallasleeponyourfeet.”

Idroptothecouchandnod.“Okay.I’llgetitwhenitcomestothedoorthough.Wedon’tneed

peopleknowingwhereyouare.”

Heignoresmeandstartspressingbuttonsonhisphone,probablylookingforthenumber.Iwatch

TVwhileheorders,thenmoveclosertohimonthecouchandrestmyheadonhisknee,myfaceturnedto

thescreen.“Idon’twantyoutogo.”

“Sabina—”

“Iknowthatyouhaveto.ButI’mjustsaying,fortherecord,Ilikehavingyouhere,”Isay,tryingto

explainhowI’mfeelingtohim.“Theplaceisgoingtobesolonelywhenyouleave.IthinkTarawill

comeandstayhereforabit,butIcan’texpecthertostopherlifeforme.Ican’texpectyouto,either.All

I’msayingis…I’mgoingtomissyou.”

Thewordscomeoutinarush,soItakeadeepbreathafterwards.

Herunshishandthroughmyfreshlyblow-driedhair,andIclosemyeyesatthesensationofhis

fingersonmyscalp.Ihaven’thadanyonetouchmeinweeks,otherthanhugs,whichIdolove,butthisis

somethingdifferent.

“I’mgoingtomissyoutoo,”hefinallysays,clearinghisthroat.“That’swhyItoldyoutocome

andvisitme.ItwouldbenicetoshowyouwhereIlive,youknow?”

“Icantry,”Isay,softlymoaningashisfingerskeepworkingtheirmagic.“ButIcan’tmakeany

promises.”

Technically,there’snothingkeepingmehereanymore,exceptTara.Butthere’snothingforme

anywhereelseeither…exceptadventure.

Hmmm.

MaybeIneedtogetawayforabit,dosometravelling?

Aplanstartstoform,somethingthatIcanactuallylookforwardto.

*****

ThedaycomesforDeantoleave.Iwakehimuptoastackofwaffles,bacon,andcoffee,andsit

onthebedintheguestroomwhilehepacksuphisstuff.

“Youknowyou’regoingtobefine,right?”hesays,sittingnexttome.“Andifnot,I’monlya

phonecallaway.”

“Iknow,”Isay,eyesgentlingonhim.“Ican’tthankyouenoughforcomingtovisit.”Ican’thelp

butteasehimbyadding,“Andshowingmehowtheotherhalflives.”

Hisliptwitchesandhisarmcomesaroundme.“Youwouldn’tletmeshowyou,ifIremember

correctly.Iwould’vetakenyouoverseasorsomething.”

Ismileandrollmyeyes.“Yeah,nothankyou.Whatyoudidwasmorethanenough;theboatride

wasamazing.Ihadthebesttime,Dean.Ican’tthankyouenough.”

“Thebreakfastyoumademewasthanksenough,”hesays,kissingthesideofmyhead.“Ibetterget

going.”

“Willyoumessagemewhenyougethomesafely?”Iask,walkingwithhimtothedoor.Heopens

it,suitcaseinhand,andIfollowhimouttohiscar.

“Yeah,”hesays,“Ofcourse.”

“Youneverletmedriveyourcar.”

“Iknow,”hesays,grinning.“Maybenexttime.”

“Hmmmph.”

Hechucklesandputshissuitcaseintheback,thencomesroundtome.“Well,thisisit,Sabina.”

Westareintoeachother’seyes,andIshiftonmyfeetbeforesteppingforwardandwrappingmy

armsaroundhim,mycheekonhischest.Isqueezehimtight,likeitwillmakehimstay,eventhoughI

knowthat’snotapossibility.Hecan’tstay,hedoesn’tbelonghereanymore.

“Goodbye,”Isay,pullingbackandlookingupathim.“I’mgoingtomissyou,DeanAmore.”

Helowershishead,kissesmyforehead,andcupsmycheekswithhiswarmhands.Myeyesclose

ontheirownaccord,theemotionflowingthroughmesomethingmuchstrongerthanIanticipated.

Anotherkiss,thistimeonmycheek,andthenheletsgo.

Istepback,allowinghimspacetogetintohiscar,thenwatchashepullsoutofmydriveway.He

wavesonce,ourgazeslocked,beforehedrivesaway.

Istandthereforafewseconds,lettingtherealityofeverythinghitme.

It’snowtimetogetbacktoreallife.

NomoreDeantryingtocheermeupateveryturn.

AndnomoreBen.

Reality.

Andfuckifitdoesn’tsuck.

*****

Afewhourslater,there’saknockatmydoor.Iopenit,andamanstandstherewithanoteanda

setofkeys.Hehandsthemovertomeandwalksawaywithoutaword.Iopenthenote:

Nowyoucandriveit.

Love,Dean.

HegavemehisfuckingbrandnewRangeRover.

Holyshit.

Hisgenerosityknowsnobounds.

Isendhimamessage,tellinghimtocallmewhenhelands,sowecandiscussthegiantelephantin

theroom.Orthecarasitwas,butIalsothankhim.

Howcanonemanbeso…everything?

Thatnight,Isitandmakeaplanaboutmyfuture.Nowisthetimeforchange,atimeformetodo

whateverIwantto,andI’mnotgoingtoletitpassmeby.

No,I’mgoingonamotherfuckingadventure.

ChapterNine

“Ican’tbelieveyounevercametovisitme,”Deansays,scowlingashepaysattentiontotheroad

infrontofhim.“Ayear.”

“Howlongareyougoingtocomplainaboutit?”Iaskhim,sighing.Afterheleftthelasttime,I

struggled.NotasbadlyasIwasbeforeDeancame,butIstilldid.Iwentbacktowork,andIhatedit.I

wasstuckinarut,anditwasbecomingachorejusttogetoutofbedinthemorning.SoIdidsomethingI

probablyshouldn’thave.Isoldmyhouse.AndthenIwenttravelling.Allaroundtheworld.Ninemonths

ofexploringdifferentcountries,meetingnewpeople,andhavingadifferentadventureeveryday.WhenI

returnedhometonothingbutthecarDeangaveme,whichI’dkeptatTara’s,Irentedanapartmentand

wentbacktomyoldjob.Itdoesn’tsuckasmuchasIthoughtitdid,andIthinkit’sjustbecauseofmynew

stateofmind.Perspectiveiseverything.

“Forfuckingever,”hesays,withnoheatinhistone.“Ikeptseeingpicturesofyouhere,thereand

everywhereonyoursocialmedia,andwaswonderingwhythehellyouhadn’tcometoseemeyet.”

“Ididn’tmakeitoutthatway,”Isay,lookingoutthewindow.“Andbesides,youwerebusywith

yourtourandeverything.Ididn’twanttoinconvenienceyou.I’mhomenow,andyou’revisitingagain,

andthat’sallthatmatters,right?”

Hestayssilent.

He’snothappywithme,Icantell,andIdon’tlikehimbeinginthismoodbecausehehardlygets

likethis;he’sgenerallyhappyandoptimistic.

“Howlongareyoustayingforthistime?”Iask,tryingtochangethesubject.

“Aweek.”

“I’llseeifIcantaketheweekoff,”Isay,hopingwecanspendsometimetogether.Idon’twant

Deantobeangrywithme,orthinkthatIdon’tcareabouthim,butthere’sareasonIdidn’tgotoseehim,

onethatIdon’twanttotellhimabout.Whenheleft,Ireallymissedhim.Ithoughtabouthimalot,and

morethananythingIwantedhimtocomeback.Ididn’twanttoreadtoomuchintoit,oroverthinkit,soI

kindofpusheditaway.He’sBen’scousin,andhewasgoodtome,soIwasjustmissinghiscompany,

right?

Exactly.

Well,Idon’tknow.

Idon’twanttoknow,especiallywhendenialistreatingmesowell.

“Sonowyouwanttospendtimewithme?”heasksinadrytone.

AtleasthehuggedmewhenIshowedupatKate’stopickhimup.Hespentanightwiththem

beforeIcametogethim,intheverycarhegavetome.Hehuggedme,tookthekeysfrommeasImade

smalltalkwithmyex-mother-in-law,thengotintothedriver’sseat.We’renowonthewaytomy

apartment,butthereunionisn’tgoingaswellasIhadhoped.

“It’snotlikeyoucouldn’thavecontactedmeandmetmesomewhere,”Isay,pursingmylips.“Can

thisbeahappymoment,please?Idon’tlikeitwhenyougetangry.”

Amuscleticksinhisjaw,butIseethemomentheletsgoofwhateverisbugginghim.Hisbody

relaxes,andhedoesn’tlooklikehewantstokillmeanymore.Igivehimdirectionstomynewplace,all

thewhilegreedilytakinghimin,hisprofile,hispresence,everything.Ayearisalongtime.Hishairis

longerontop,andalittlelighter…fromthesun?He’swearingablackV-neckt-shirtandwornjeans,

somethingthathasn’tchanged.

“Yougoingtostareatmeuntilwegettoyourplace?”heasks,glancingatmefromthecornerof

hiseyes.

Ishiftinmyseatandlookaway,shrugging.“Ihaven’tlaideyesonyouinpersoninayear,giveme

abreak.Youlookthesame,butdifferent.”

“Youlookdifferent,”hesays,fingerstighteningonthewheel.“Youcutyourhair.”

Itouchmynowbluntbob.“Yeah,don’tyoulikeit?Wantedachange,andallIhadtochangewas

myhair,soIcutit.Itwillgrowback.IthinkIpreferitlong,butthebluntlookissexy.AtleastIthinkso.”

“Youtryingtolooksexynow?”hesays,notsparingmeaglance.

Ipursemylips.IshegoingtotwisteverythingIsay?“Well,I’masinglewoman.Alittle

appreciationfromtheoppositesexisn’tsomethingIneed,butit’snice.”

“Asifyoudon’tgetenoughappreciation,”hesays,clearinghisthroat.

Howdidwegetintothisconversation?ThisisnotwhereIwantedittohead.“Areyouworking

onanewalbum?”

Heshakeshishead.“Notjustyet.Takingsometimeoff.”

“HowwasKate’s?”

“Sameasusual,”hesays,exhaling.“She’salottodealwith,butIwantedtoseemycousins,so....

YouknowsheprettymuchhintedthatIshouldbuyheracarsinceIgotyouthisone.”

“Yeah,shewasn’thappywhenshefoundoutaboutthat,”Isay,cringing.“Infact,shewaspretty

furious.Ithinkshecalledyourmumtocomplain.”

“Yeahwell,luckilymymumisnothinglikeher,”hesays.

“Verytrue,”Isay,agreeingwiththatcomment.“What’snewinyourworld?”

“NothingmuchsincethelasttimeIspoketoyouonthephone,”hesays,referringtoourmonthly

calls.SometimesI’dcaveandgivehimaquickring.He’daskwhereIwas,whatIwasdoing,andI’d

makesurehewasdoingallrighttoo.Kindofjustcheckinginwitheachother.“Howaboutyou?”

“Imadeanewfriend,”Itellhim.“ShedoesbellydancingwithTaraandme.Hernameis

PersephoneKnox.Howcoolisthatname?”

“Youdobellydancing?”heasks,eyebrowsrising.“Sincewhen?”

“Threemonthsnow,”Isay.“Giveortake.It’shard,butit’sfun.Whoknewtherearesomanyways

youcanmoveyourhips?Certainlynotme.”

Deanlaughs,andthesoundislikemusictomyears.“Mighthavetoputyouinmynextmusic

video,hey?Andyes,Persephoneisanawesomename.Nicetoseeyouhavemorethanonefriendthese

days.”

It’strue,Taraisusuallymyonlyfriend,andI’mhers,butnowwe’readdingtothetwoperson

squad.“Hey,whenIwastravellingImadeheapsoffriends.They’rejustscatteredallovertheworld

now.AndTarawillalwaysbemybestfriend.Nothingandnoonecanchangethat.”

“Didyoumeetany…morethanfriends?”heasks,airinthecarthickeningasheawaitsmyreply.

“No,”Isay,draggingouttheword.“Lotsofguyfriends,butnomorethanfriends.”

“Hmmm,”isallhereplies.

“Howaboutyou?Anyrecentmorethanfriends?Famouscelebrities?”Iask,onlysincehedid.

Fairisfair.Ifhegetstobenosy,thensodoI.

“Nope,”hesays,butdoesn’telaborate.

“Why?Haven’tmetanyonethathascaughtyoureye?”Ipush.Idon’tknowwhyIwanttoknowso

badly.Iguessit’shardtounderstandhowsomeonelikehim,whohasbeautifulwomenthrowing

themselvesathim,canbesingleforsolong.Yeah,Iknowhe’snotashallowman,sojustlookswouldn’t

swayhim,butsurelyoutofallthosewomenhe’dhaveaconnectionwithatleastone?Idon’tgethim.

Thenagain,Iprobablywon’tthinkanywomanisgoodenoughforhim.

“Nope,”herepeats,againwithnoexplanation.

“Well,that’snofun,”Imutterundermybreath.“Turnrighthere.”

HeturnsrightontomystreetandIpointtomyapartmentbuilding.“That’sitthere.It’sgoingtobe

alittlehardersneakingyouinnowthatI’minanapartment.Shit,Ididn’tthinkaboutthat.”

“It’sfine,”hesays,lookingforaparkingbay.“Mydisguisehasimprovedsincethelasttime.”

“Upgradefromacaptoabeanie?”Itease,smirkingatmyownjoke.

“Nope,stillacap,butI’veaddedsunglasses,”hesayswithastraightface.It’sthenIrealisehe’s

serious.

“Andhow’sthatgoingforyou?”

Heparksthecarthenturnstome,givingmeallofhisattention.“Whydon’tyouwaitandsee.Ibet

wegettoyourapartmentwithnotonepersonrecognisingme.It’snight-timeanyway,sotherewillbeno

issues.”

“Italsomeansyoucan’twearsunglasses,becauseyou’lllookstupid,”Ipointout.

Heoffersmehishand.“IfIgettoyourplacewithnoissues,youhavetocookmebreakfast

tomorrowmorning.”

I’dhavecookedforhimanyway,butI’mnotgoingtopointthatout.

ItakehishandbutIdon’tshakeit,yet.“AndifIwin,youhavetoansweranyfivequestionsI

choosetoaskyouwithbrutalhonesty.”

Heseemstoponderthat.“Okay,butIgetmorethanbreakfastthen.IfIwin,Igettotakeyou

somewhere,anywhereIchoose,andyoudon’tgettocomplainaboutit.”

Wherewouldhewanttotakeme?

“Okay,deal,”Isay.

Weshake.

ChapterTen

Wemakeittomyfrontdoorwithoutanyonerecognisinghim,eventhoughwepassedseveral

peopleandmyneighbour,Bennett,stoppedmetosayhello.

“Iwin,”hesays,smilingandplacinghisbagonthefloor.“Inowgetadeliciousbreakfastandget

totakeyousomewhereofmychoosing.”

“Yeah,yeah,”Igroan,watchinghimtakeinmynewplace.“Ican’tbelievethosestupidsunglasses

worked.Youlookedlikeadouchebag.”

“Butaneffectiveone,”hesays,chuckling.

“Roomontherightisyours,”Isay,noddingtomysparebedroom.It’srightnexttomybedroom,

whichisdifferentfromtheset-upIhadinthehouse.

“Thisplaceisnice,”hesays,walkingintothekitchenandopeningthefridge.Ilovehowhemakes

himselfathome,feelingcomfortableenoughsoIdon’thavetoworryabouthimtomakesurehehas

everythingheneeds.Hemakesbeingahosteasy,becauseifhewantssomething,he’lltakeitorhe’lltell

me.

“Thanks,”Isay.“Idomisshavingagarden,butfornowitworks.Workiscloseby,andit’slow

maintenance.Greatforsomeonewhohasnoideawhatthey’redoingwiththeirlife.”

IstillmissBen,butnowthepainhasdulledalittle.Icangetthroughaday,orafew,without

thinkingaboutit.OfcoursetherearetimesIstillgetalittledownaboutnothavinghimhere,andImiss

himeveryday,butI’mnotsufferingwiththecripplingpainoflossanymore.I’veacceptedit.Thatdoesn’t

meanI’lleverforgethimthough.He’llbewithmeforever.

“You’redoingjustfine,Sabina,”hesays,takingoutabottleofwaterandcrackingitopen.

“WellI’mgladsomeonethinksso,”Imumble,flashinghimasmileandjumpinguponthekitchen

counter,watchinghim.“Travellingchangesyourperspectiveonthings,Ithink.Havingahouseanda

mortgagedon’tseemasimportantastheydidbefore.”

Heswallowsthewaterinhismouththennods.“Iagree.Reallyshowsyouhowmuchthereisto

theworld.Noteverythinghastobeasyouknowit;youcanlearnnewwaysoflifeandseewhichwayyou

wanttolive.”

Hestepsclosertome,hisrock-hardstomachtouchingmyknees.Hetakesalockofmyhair

betweenhisfingersandtugsgently.“Ilovethelonghair,butthiscutdoesreallysuityou.”

“Thanks,”Isay,smiling.Whenhe’sabouttomoveawayIwrapmylegsaroundhim.“Youwere

angrywithme.”

Yeah,Ididn’tvisithiminthelastyear,whichisalongtime,butIdon’tthinkheshouldbeso

angryaboutthat.Itwasn’tarulethatwe’dcatchupannually,andwemadenopromises.I’venevereven

beentohishousebefore,andneitherhadBen.We’donlyseeDeanwhenhecametovisitandforfamily

eventsandholidays.

“Iknow,”hesays,theintenselookinhiseyesmakingmewanttobreakeyecontact.

“Why?”Iask,softly.“Imean,Iknowwhy…but,reallytellmewhy.”

“Youlostthebet,Idon’toweyouanybrutallyhonestanswers,”hesays,eyesloweringtomylips.

Thewholethingisfuckedup,becauseifhekissedmerightnow,Iwouldn’tpullaway.Iknowhe

wouldn’tdoit,butstill.

He’sBen’scousin.

Ineedtokeepthinkingofhimassuch.

Ihaven’tbeenwithanyonesinceBen,whichleavesmynumberataverysad-lookingone,andIdo

misssex.IwentfromhavingitwheneverIwantedtonothavingitatall,butIhaven’tmetanyoneIwant

totakethatstepwith.It’sabigdealforme,sleepingwithsomeoneafteronlyhavingbeenwithmy

husband.Whatwoulditbelike?Whatifit’sshitbecausetherearenoemotionsinvolved,nolove?What

ifI’mnotverygoodinbed?Sure,I’vebeenhavingsexforyears,butwithonlyoneman,soI’mkindof

tunedtoeverythingBenliked,andthat’sit.Iknowthingsonewayandonewayonly.I’veneverevenseen

anotherdickinreallife.Oh,God.Thethoughtofseeingadifferentonekindofgivesmeanxiety.Imean,

ifI’veseenonehaveIseenthemall?Ihighlydoubtit.IalwaysthoughtBenhadanice-sizeddick,but

withnothingtocompareittoIdon’tknowifhewasbigorsmall.Notthatitmatters;wehadagoodsex

life,andhealwaysleftmesatisfied.WhatifIcan’tcomeforanyoneelse?Idon’tthinksexismeanttobe

thisstressful.

“Idon’tneedtowinabettowanttohearthetruthfromyou,”Isay,boldlyraisingmyhandand

cuppinghischeek.“Ilikethestubble.”

“Sabina,”hegrowls,gentlypushingmyhandaway.Hedoesn’tmovethough.Hestayswhereheis,

mylegsoneachsideofhim,hisfacesoclosetominethatIcanseethegoldflecksinhiseyes.

“Dean,”Isayback,inamuchsoftertone.“Imissedyou.”

“Imissedyoutoo,”herumbles,droppinghiseyes.“WhydoyouthinkIwassoangry?Youhad

everychancetocome,youwentallovertheworld,butyoudidn’t.Why?”

“Idon’tknow,”Isay,lickingmylips.It’snotexactlytrue,Ikindofdoknowwhy,butIdon’tknow

howtosayit.Idon’tevenknowifit’strue.I’mcompletelyconfused.Idon’twanttosayanythingI’m

thinkingoutloudbecausethenitmakesitreal.Andthis?Itcannotbereal.Itjustcan’t.It’swrong.It’s…

impossible.It’smereachingforsomeonewhoiscomfortable,andhavinghimasafriendshouldbemore

thanenough.Itshouldbe,right?

“Lie,”hemurmurs,tiltinghisheadtothesideandstudyingme.“Youaskmetospeakthetruththen

darelietomyface?”

Ipursemylips.“Iwastravellingtoseenewthings,Dean.Tomeetnewpeopleandexplore.To

broadenmyhorizonandtodealwithmygriefinadifferentway.TofigureoutwhothehellIam.AndI

neededtobealoneforthat.Howwouldrunningtoyouhelpanything?”

Henodsonce,acceptingthatreply.

“Iknowyou’dhavebeenthereforme,andhavetriedtohelpme,justlikeyoudidwhenyoucame

herelastyear.Butyoucouldn’tsavemefromthis.Ihadtofeelit,grieveit,andletitgo.Icouldn’trunto

youtosaveme,Ihadtosavemyself.AndIdid.Isaw,Ilearnt,Ifelt.Ifoundmyselfagain,thesingle

versionofme.IknowthepersonIwanttobe.Andyouknowwhat?Iamfine.I’mstrong.AndI’mready

formynextadventure.”

“Iknowyouare,”hesays,liptwitching.“Thatwasnevertheissue.”

“Whatwastheissue?”Iaskhim,holdingmybreathasIwaitforhisreply.

“Thatyouwerehis,”hesays,browfurrowingasifhecan’tbelievehisownwords.Hetakesa

stepback,mylegsdropping,andleavesthekitchen,grabbinghisbagandheadingintotheguestroom.Isit

thereandthinkoverthewordshejustsaid.

ThatIwashis?

Ben’s?

Andnot…his?

Ishakemyhead.No.WhydidIpushhimjustnow?I’veneverdoneitbefore.IwishIhadn’t.

Thethingaboutwords,youcanthinkthemallyouwant,butonceyousaythemyoucan’ttakethem

back.

Thosefourwordsofhisjustchangedeverything.

*****

IwanttohideinmyroomafterthatbutIdon’t.There’snowaywecanavoidthisnowthatit’s

comeabout,andIfeellikeit’smyturntobehonestwithhim.Iknocktwiceonhisdoor.Hetellsmeto

comein,soIopenthedoorandenter.He’slyinginbedonhisback,shirtless,armsfoldedbehindhis

head.Great,nowIhavetohavethisconversationtryingnottolookathisbody?Whydoeseverythingfeel

differentallofasudden?LasttimehewashereIcouldbearoundhimwithnoissues.

Whathaschanged?

IsitbecauselasttimeBenwasstillstandingbetweenus,eventhoughhewasn’tthere?Doesit

evenmatter?Nothingcanhappenbetweenus.

Okay,I’mgettingaheadofmyselfhere.

“ImeantwhatIsaidbefore,butthere’smore,”Isay,sittingdownontheedgeofthebedand

lookingdownatmyhands.“Lasttimeyouleft,Imissedyou.Imean,morethanIshouldhave,andit

scaredmealittle.”

We’reinadefiningmoment,caughtbetweenthetruthandtherealityofthesituation.Noneofthis

makessense.

“Howthefuckdidwegethere?”Imutter,puffingoutabreathandliftingmyhead.“Youmeanso

muchtome,Dean,andIdon’twanttoruinit.Idon’twanttoruinourfriendship.”

Whatifhedoesthetypicalmalethingandstartsavoidingmerightnow?Orignoringme.Ithink

thatwouldkillme.Ilikeknowinghe’salwaysthereifIneedtoreachouttohim,andIliketothinkhe

knowsthatI’mhereforhimtoo.

“Nothingisgoingtoruinourfriendship,”heassuresme,pattingthespotnexttohim.“Comehere.”

Ihesitantlyscootupthebedandliebackonaseparatepillow.“Howisthisgoingtohelpthe

situation?”

“It’snot,”hesays,thenaddssofter,“Ijustlikehavingyounearme.”

Iopenmymouth,andthencloseit.“Sowe’rejustsayingwhateverwefeelwithnofilternow,I

guess.”

“Wouldyouratherwedidn’t?”heasks,turningtohisside,facingme.“Wecanpretendtoday

neverexistedifyouwantto,Sabina.Ihavenoideawhat’sgoingoninthatheadofyoursorwhatyou

wantfromme.”

“Doesitmatterthough?”Iask,laughingbitterly.“You’rehiscousin,Dean.HowamImeanttobe

okaywiththat?It’sliketheultimatebetrayaltohismemory.”

“He’snothere,butweare,Sabina.Areyougoingtogiveawayyourhappinessoversome

misplacedguilt?”

“Howisitmisplaced?”Iask,turningmyheadtohim,scanninghisfacialfeatures.Hiseyesare

softandunguarded,andthelastthingIwanttodoishurthim.He’severythingamanshouldbe,strongyet

yielding,protectiveandencouragingatthesametime.

WhatdoIwantfromhim?

ChapterEleven

Dean

IrememberthefirsttimeIsawher,backinhighschool.Shewassittingonthegrass,herdarkhair

blowinginthewind,herbarelegsfoldedbeneathher.

“Whoisthat?”IaskBen,frozeninmytracksatthesheerbeautyofthegirl.Idon’tpaymuch

attentiontogirls,tobehonest.I’musuallylostinmymusic,andalthoughIhaveseveralfemale

friends,theyarejustthat,friends.Noonehasevercaughtmyeyelikethisgirlhas,andit’sanew

feeling.Anexcitingone.

“That’sSabina,”Bensays,watchingher.“She’sinmyyear.Why?”

Itakeasteptowardher,likesheispullingmeinherdirection.Ifanygirlismeantforme,she’s

theone.Icanfeelitinmybones.

“Comeon,webettergettopractice,”Bensays,pullingmeoutoftheSabinahaze.

AndSabina,whatabeautifulname.

Aweeklater,beforeIcouldworkupthenervetoaskherout,sheandBenstarteddating.

Myowncousin.

Andshestayedwithhim.Shemarriedhim.

Andsheaskedmetosingatherfuckingwedding.Icouldn’tevensayno,becauseitwasher

asking.Shewantedmeto,andsoIdid.Forher.Toseehersmile.Myfeelingsforheraren’tselfish,and

neverhavebeen,soeventhoughitkilledmeinside,Ilookedatherandsang.

Idon’tknowhowIgotthroughthesong,butIdid.

Forher.

Istillcan’thearthatsongwithoutfeelinglikesomeonepunchedmeinthegut.

Idon’thavewordsforwhatthatfeltlike,watchingherwithmyownblood,andmorethanthat

Benwasnotthemanshethoughthewas.

EverysongI’vewrittensincethenhasbeenabouther,insomewayoranother.

*****

“It’smisplacedbecausethereisnoreasontofeelguilty.Youaren’tcheatingonhim.He’snot

here,”Isayoncemore,wishingshecouldgetitthroughherhead,wishingshecouldjustopenhereyes

andseehowhappyIcanmakeher.I’vewatchedherfromafar,watchedoverher,beenherfriend,been

herfamily,I’vebeeneverythingIcantoherinsomewayoranother,butI’veneverbeentheoneshe

loves.I’veneverbeenherman.Andit’stheonlythingI’vewantedsinceIfirstlaideyesonher.

I’vebeeninlovewithherforaslongasIcanremember,butIhidit.Buriedit.Shewasmarriedto

mycousin,andthatwasthat.Mylovestoryhadnohappyending,mylyricsmyonlyrefugefromthepain

unrequitedlovebringsasoul.Idated,Imetmanydifferentwomen,butnoneofthemevermademefeel

howIfeelaboutSabina.

She’sjust…itforme.

It’sactuallyfuckin’ridiculous.

Myownpersonalhell.

IwonderwhatIdidtodeservethis.

“Doesitmatterifhe’snothere?Westillhavetolivewithourdecisions,”shesays,brow

furrowing.Shetakesadeepbreath,closinghereyesforafewseconds.“Sowelikebeingaroundeach

other,andwecareabouteachother…that’sfine.Andwehaven’tcrossedanylines.Idon’tthinkthere’s

anissuehere.”

Maybenotforher,butforme,there’salwaysbeenanissue.

Sabinawasalwaysmeanttobemine.

DoessheevenrememberwhathermarriagetoBenwaslike?Inhisdeath,it’salmostlikeshe’s

forgottenandpaintedhimassomemagnificentman.Somehero.Don’tgetmewrong,Benwasn’ta

terribleperson,buthewasn’tagreatoneeither.Isshesoblindedbyherloveforhim?WhywouldI

torturemyselfbytryingtocompetewiththat?Overthelastyear,I’vetoldmyselfoverandoveragainto

letthisgo.ButIcan’t.Idon’tknowwhy,Ijustcan’t.

Iliftmyhandandcuphercheek,andsheturnsherfaceintomypalm,herhazeleyesclosing.She

issobeautiful,andnotjustontheoutside.Whatisitabouther?Fuck,she’shadmeinknotssincethefirst

timeIlaideyesonher;it’slikeshehassomesortofspelloverme.

IwillalwaysbedrawntoSabina,always.

It’sbeenputtothetestovertheyears.Imighthavebeenabletoconcealmytruefeelings,bury

themsodeepthatsometimesevenIdidn’tfeelthem,butIknewtheywerealwaysthere.Howdifferent

wouldmylifehavebeenifI’daskedheroutbeforeBendid?

IrememberthedayIwaitedwithherafterschoolbecauseBenwaslate.Shewasstandingthere

allalonewithabagfulofheavybooks,andIwaitedwithher.IdiditbecauseIdidn’twanthertobe

alone,andIalsodiditbecauseIfeltguilty.NotbecauseIhadathingforher,butbecauseI’djustseen

BenkissinganothergirlinthecourtyardbeforeI’dseenher.I’dwantedtotellher,Idid,butIcouldn’t.

ItwasthefirsttimeI’dworkedupthenervetoactuallyspeaktoher,andthenIhadtowatchher

leavewithBen,who’djusthadhislipsonanothergirl.Hedidn’tevenoffertocarryherheavybagof

booksforher.

Iwantedtoshakehim,justmakehimrealisethathehadsuchanamazingthinginfrontofhim.Why

wouldheruinthat?Whywouldhedisrespectherandtreatherthatway?IthinkIwashopingthey’dbreak

upsoon,anditwouldn’tbeimportantanymore.Andmaybeshe’dgivemeachance.

Butshe’dmarriedhim,andmychancewentoutthewindow.Igotsignedandleftthecity,needing

toescape,andhopingthatmaybeI’dmeetsomeonewhomademefeellikeshedid.

Ididn’t.

Ihaveanotherchancenowthough,butit’snotgoingtobeeasy.SodoItakeit?OrdoIspendthe

restofmylifewonderingwhatif?

Withhereyesshut,Ileanforwardonthebedsoourlipsarealmosttouching.Whenshedoesn’t

moveaway,Ibrushmylipsagainsthersonce,softly,thenagain,thistimeopeningmymouthalittle.

Shedoesn’tpullaway,butshedoesn’tkissmeback.

Idon’tknowifthat’sawinoraloss.

Itryagain,kissingheralittledeeperthistime,andwhensheresponds,kissingmeback,Ialmost

wanttojumpforfuckingjoy.ShetastesjustasI’vealwaysimagined,herlipsjustassoft,herkissjustas

perfect.

I’mhardasarock.

Idon’tevenwanttomentionhowmanytimesI’vethoughtaboutthismoment,andnowthewoman

ofmydreamsisrightwhereshebelongs.Myhandmovesfromhercheektothebackofherneck,gripping

hergentlyasIkissherwithahungersointenseitalmostscaresme.WhenIpullback,she’spanting

slightly,hereyeshalfmast,alittledazedandextremelyturnedon.Thisismyfirsttimeseeingthissideof

her,andIneedmore.Ofeverything.

“Fuck,”shewhispers,touchingherlips.

“Doyoustillthinkthereisnoissue?”Iaskher,lettinggoofhercompletelyandmovingbackto

mysideofthebed.Ihopeshecan’tseemycockstrainingagainstmyjeans,beggingtobeletout,butif

shelooksdownwardsshe’snotgoingtomissit.Shesitsuponthebed,sayingnothing,andIhavenoidea

whatshe’sthinkingrightnow.

“Sabina—”

“I’mgoingtogotobed,”shesays,standingupandwalkingtothedoor.“Doyouneedanything?”

OhIneedsomething,allright,butsheisn’tgoingtogiveit.Notonlythat,butIdon’twanttohave

herunderneathmeuntilIknowforsurethatshe’sgoingtobemine.Idon’twantjustataste,Iwanther.

Allofher.AndIwanthertohaveallofme.

“No,I’mfine.Areyouokaythough?”

“Yeah,”shesays,openingthedoor.“Ijustneedtothink.Ican’tthinkwithyouhereonthebed,

lookinglikethat,andkissinglikethat.So…uhhh....Goodnight.”

Sheleavestheroom,closingthedoorbehindher.Ihearhermutter,“Holyfuckingshit,”andit

makesmechucklesoftly.Ihearhergointoherbedroom,shufflingaroundtheroom.Thewallsarepaper

thin,sotheregoestakingcareofmyharddickrightnow.Iadjustmyselfinmyjeansandmoansoftlyatthe

friction.

Fuck.

MaybeIshouldtakeashower.

Decidingthat’sthebestcourseofaction,IgrabachangeofclothesandheadtowhatIassumeis

thebathroom.Ipeerinsideandturnthelighton,happythatIgottherightroom,thenlockthedoorbehind

me.Takingoffmyjeansandboxershorts,Iturnthewateronandgetittotherighttemperaturebefore

jumpingin.Ilookdownandseemydickishardandpointingoutwards,justbeggingforsomeattention.I

starttostrokeit,keepingmygroansmuted.ThelastthingIwantisforSabinatohearwhatI’mdoing,

eventhoughit’sherI’mthinkingaboutrightnow,herhandsIwishwereonme.IstrokemyselfuntilI

come,hernameonmylips.Withonehandonthetiledwall,IholdmyselfupasIcatchmybreath.ThenI

finishupintheshower,washingmybody.WhenIgetout,IrealisethatIforgotthetowelsheleftforme

ontheendofmybed,andtherearenoneinthebathroom.Icheckthecupboards,butthey’rejustfilled

withhergirlyshit,soIopenthedoorandpeerout.

Silence.

Itakethatasthecoastisclearandshe’sinbed,hopefullyasleep,soImakeaquickdashformy

bedroom.I’malmostsafeatthedoorwhen….

“Holyshit,Dean!”Iturnaround.She’ssittingonthecouchinthelivingroom,atuboficecream

inherhand,spoonhalfwaytohermouth,hereyeswiderthanI’veeverseenthem.Shetakesmeinfrom

headtotoe,stoppingonmydick.“Oh,wow.That’sbig.Like,reallybig.”

Ijuststandthere,waterdrippingdownmybody,watchingherwatchme.I’mcomfortableinmy

bodyandusedtohavingitondisplay,buthereyesonmeisacompletelydifferentexperience.Ilikeher

watchingme.Ilikeherreaction,likeI’mthemostamazingthingshe’severlaidhereyeson.Shelooks

likeshe’sabouttostartfanningherselforsomething.

“Iforgotmytowel,”Iexplain,shruggingnonchalantly.“Ithoughtyouwereinbed.”

“Big,”shesaysagain,stilllookingsouth.Iputmyhandovermyselfandsmirk.“Well,I’mjust

goingto…yeah.”

Iopenthedoorandwalkinside.

Andgreat,nowI’mfuckinghardagain.

ChapterTwelve

IknowI’mgoingtohellforthis,butIonlyhaveoneotherpenistocompareitto,andDean’sis

huge.Andsopretty.Don’taskmehowapeniscanbepretty,butafterseeingDean’s,Iknowitcan.I

shovethespoonfulofnow-meltedicecreamintomymouth,swallowingandpicturingwhatIjustsaw.

Deannakedissomethingthateveryoneneedstosee.Actually,Itakethatback.Idon’twantanyother

womentoseehim,butheisjustsomethingelse.Theabs,thestrongthighs,thesexyashellV’s…andthat

amazingcock.He’sperfectionmouldedintoonesexy,talentedman.Onewhokissedme,andoneIkissed

back.

Ieatmoreicecream,replayingthekissinmyhead,andwonderingwhatthehellI’mgoingtodo

aboutthewholesituation.HaveIbeenindenialthiswholetime?Oristhissomethingnew,something

that’sbuildingbetweenthetwoofus?

Idon’tknow.

Idon’thavetodeciderightnow,doI?

WhenhalfthetuboficecreamisconsumedandIthoroughlyhatemyself,Iputtherestofitbackin

thefreezerandheadtobed.Deanneverresurfacedafterhisstreakfromthebathroomtohisbedroom,and

I’mkindofthankfulforthat,becauseIdon’tknowhowtofacehimnow.Itwasn’tsomuchseeinghim

naked,butwhatI’dsaidduringitthatmortifiesme.HowmanytimesdidIsay“big”inlikethirty

seconds?Igetintobedandliftthesheetshighup,sotheycovermyface.

AndwhenIfallasleep,Idreamabouthim.

*****

Imakehimbreakfast,becauseabetisabet,butalsobecauseIwouldhavedoneitanyway.When

heopenshisdoorandwandersintothekitchen,thefoodisalreadyservedandonthetable.

“Morning,”hemumbles,rubbinghiseyes.“Somethingsmellsdelicious.”

“Thesmellofavictorymeal?”Itease,takingasipofcoffee.“Doyouwantcoffeeorjuice?”

“Bothplease,”hesays,sittingdownandeyingthegiantstackofpancakesandcrispybacon.“Did

yousleepwell?”

“Yes,”Ilie,pouringhimsomejuiceandcoffeeandplacingbothinfrontofhim.Isitdown

oppositehimandask,“Didyou?”

IsleptforafewhoursbutwokeupwithmyoveractivemindthinkingaboutDeanandmyfeelings

towardshim.IthoughtaboutBen,andthelookonhisfaceifheknewthatIwasthinkingabouthisown

cousininsuchaway,ifheknewthatI’dkissedhim,andthentheguilthitme.WhatkindofpersonamI?I

alwaysthoughtIwasagoodpersonwithagoodheart,butnowI’mnotsosure.I’mclearlyaselfishone,

onlythinkingaboutmywantsandneeds,myownfeelings,andnotthoseofanyonearoundme.Imagine

whatKateandtherestofBen’sfamilywouldsayaboutthis.Itwouldn’tbepretty.

“Yeah,thatbedisreallycomfortable,”hesays,sippingonhisjuice.“Soyou’regoingintowork

today?Imightgocatchupwithafriend.”

“Yeah,Ihavetogointoday,butI’llgetaweekfromtomorrowoff,”Isay.Luckilyforme,we’re

overstaffedandthemanagerisafriendofmine,soitwon’tbeanissuetotaketimeoff.WhenDean

messagedsayinghewascomingsometimethismonth,Iwarnedheraboutit,soshe’llbeexpectingit.

“Youshouldhavegivenmemorethanaday’swarningwhenyoufoundoutthedateyouwere

coming,”Ichide,watchingashedevoursapieceofbacon.

“IonlyfoundoutwhenImessagedyou,”heexplains.“Iwasmeanttoperformatafestivalbutit

gotcancelled,soIprettymuchjustbookedthenextflightherestraightaway.”

“Oh,Isee.Wellyou’llhavetoamuseyourselffortoday,butyou’vegotmefromtomorrowon.

Andwhatfriend?”Iask,beingnosy.

“Istillkeepintouchwithsomefriendsfromhighschool,”hesays,chewingthoughtfully.“Mainly

thosewhowereinmyband.Erinmessagedtocatchup,soI’llgoseehertoday.”

Erin?

“Howlovely,”Isay,wonderingwhatthisErinlookslike.Idon’trememberherfromschool,but

becauseshewasn’tinmygradeIprobablywouldn’t.“Arewegoingtotalkaboutlastnight?”Isuddenly

blurtout.Why?Idon’tknow.DoIwanttoremindhimofourkissbeforehegoestomeetsomegirl?

Jesus,whatiswrongwithme?

“Wekissed,itwasamazing.Yousawmenaked,itwas…big,”hesays,unabletokeepastraight

face.

Ilookdownintomycoffeemug,wishingitwouldswallowmewhole.“Wellitwasbig,okay?”

Hestartslaughing,broadshouldersshakingwiththeforceofit.“Iwishyoucouldhaveseenyour

face!”

“Yeah,laughitup,jerk,”Isay,rollingmyeyes.“ExcusemeifIdon’thavemanyhotnakedmen

walkingthroughmyapartment!IfIwasn’tfazedbyit,that’swhenyoushouldworry.”

“Hot,hey?”hesays,wigglinghiseyebrows.“Nicetobeappreciated.”

Iblinkslowlyafewtimes.

“Thewholefuckingworldappreciatesyou,whatareyouonabout?”

“Yeah,butIdon’tcarewhattheworldthinks.”Heglancesupatme,hisgreeneyessoft.“Icare

whatyouthink.”

Iwanttorunmyhandsthroughhishair,Iwanttokisshislips,butIdon’t.

Ican’t.

Thishasescalated,andit’snotgood.

Whydoesitfeelsogoodthough?

Idon’tthinkI’veeverbeensoatwarwithmyself.

“YouknowhowgreatIthinkyouare,Dean,”Isay,leaningbackinmychair.“AndIdon’tjust

meanbecauseofthatbody,orthat…giantappendage.”

Hiseyesdancewithamusement,buthedoesn’tlaughoutrightthistime.“I’dtellyouexactlywhatI

thinkofyou,Sabina,butIdon’tthinkyou’rereadytohearit.”

“Thatbad,isit?”Ijoke,tappingmyfingersonthetable.Ijustplayedoffhiscomment.Howmuch

ofabitchamI?WhenIsaidIdidn’tthinkanywomanwouldbegoodenoughforhim,Ithinkthatincluded

metoo.

“No,thatgood,”hesays,notlettingmegetawaywithit.Oureyesconnectandhold.“Aren’tyou

goingtobelateforwork?”

Ormaybeheis.

Iglancedownatmywatch.“Shit!Doyouwanttodropmeoffsoyoucantakemycar?”

Henods.“Yeah,ifyoudon’tmind.”

“OfcourseIdon’tmind,”Isay,scowling.Heboughtmethedamnthingafterall,butevenifhe

didn’t,what’smineishis.“WehavetoleavewithinfiveminutesthoughorI’mgoingtobelate.”

DeanheadstothebathroomquicklywhileIputmyshoesonandtidyupthekitchen.Whenwe’re

inthecar,Babyface’s“Whatif”playsontheradio,thelyricsofthesonghangingbetweenus.Therideis

shortandsilent,andwhenhestopsoutsidethebank,Ileanforwardandkisshimonhischeek,catching

himoffguard.“Bye.HaveagooddayandI’llseeyouafterwork.”

“WhattimedoIcomeandgetyou?”hecallsaftermeasIstarttogetoutofthecar.

“Five.Doyouwanttogohaveanearlydinnerafterwards?”Irememberthattakinghimoutin

publicusuallyturnsintoahugedebacle.“Actually,nevermind,we’llorderin.”

Iclosethedoorandsmileathim,thenwalkintomywork.WhenIreachthedoors,Ichancealook

backatthecartoseehimstillthere,waitingformetogoinsidebeforehedrivesaway.Iwaveathimthen

enter,thesongstillplayingonmymind.

Whatif?

ChapterThirteen

“Howwaswork?”heaskswhenhepicksmeup.

“Long,”Isay.EspeciallyknowingthatDeanishere.AllIwantedtodoisgetoutoftheresoI

couldcomehomeandhangoutwithhim.“MymanagersaidIcantakeaweekoff,noproblem,sothat’s

goodthough.”Istareathisprofile.“Howwasyourday?HowwasyourcatchupwithErica?”

“Erin,”hecorrects.

“Oh,right.”

WhoknewIcouldbesopetty?Notme.

“Yeahitwasgood.Wewenttothebeachandhadadrinkandachat,”hesayscasually,likehe

didn’tjusttellmehewentonwhatsoundslikeadate.Evenifhehadadate,Ican’texactlysayanything.

He’snotmine.Sure,wehadanamazingkiss,andafewmoments,butthat’sallwehave.Besides

friendshipandaconnection,whicharetheperfectfoundationtobuildarelationshipon,butwhatever.

Fuck.

DidIjustthinkthat?

“Soundslikeafunday,”Ireply,glancingoutthewindow.Idecideasubjectchangeisinorder.

“I’msuperhungry.Whatshouldwedofordinner?”

“Icooked,”hesayssimply.

“Youcooked?”Iask,browsrising.“Whatdidyoucook?Ismykitchenstillinonepiece?”Itease.

Irememberhowhe’dmademefriedricethelasttime,andIknowthathe’sprettygoodinthekitchen.

Hegrins,dimplespopping.“Ofcourseitis,andyou’llhavetowaitandsee.Ithoughtyou’dbe

tiredafterbeingonyourfeetallday,soIdidn’twantyoutohavetoworryaboutwhatwe’regoingto

eat.”

“Thanks,niceofyou,”Isay,wonderinghowamancanbesothoughtful.Bennevercookedforme.

Onceagain,it’smesseduptocomparethetwo,butIcan’tseemtohelpit.They’retwodifferentmen,with

differentpersonalitiesandoutlooksonlife.

“Well,”hemurmurs,“I’maniceguy.”

“Yes,youare.”

“Amnesia”by5SecondsofSummerplaysontheradioandImouthalongtothewords.

“Youknowthelyricstoeverysongthatcomesontheradio,”hesays,shakinghishead.“Isthat

whatyoureallydoatwork?Listentomusic?”

“Sometimes,”Iadmit,laughing.“WhenI’mworkingonsomethinginmyofficeI’llputmy

earphonesinandmultitask,butit’snottheradio.Ihavedifferentplaylistsonmyphonedependingonmy

mood,soIjustpickone.”

Idon’tmentionthatoneofmyplaylistsisofallhissongs,andit’stheoneIlistentothemost.

“Istillcan’tbelieveyougavemethiscar,bytheway.Whatdidyoudo?Comehere,buyabrand

newcarjustforafewdaysthengiveittome?”

“Iboughtitforyou,”hesays,smirking.“Idroveitforafewdaysanddidn’tletyou,bothsoyou

wouldn’tknowitwasforyouandsoyou’dwantitmore,thengaveittoyouwhenI’dalreadyleftsoyou

couldn’ttryandreturnit.”

“Youboughtmeabrandnewamazingcar,”Isay,shakingmyheadinastonishment.“Istillhaveto

pinchmyselfandrememberthatit’sactuallymine,evenafterayear.”

“It’snothing,Sabina.You’vebeendrivingthesamecarforyears,andIknowyou’vealwayshad

youreyesonthisone.It’swhatyousaidyou’dalwaysbuyifyougotrich.”

Igrin.“Ididsaythat,didn’tI?SobecauseIdidn’tgetrich,andyoudid,youboughtitforme?

Breakingmyindependentwomanstreak,Dean.”

Hechuckles,reachingoverandtappingmythighgently.“You’llsurvive.Whatdidyoudowith

youroldcar,anyway?”heasks,changinglanes.

“Tara’slittlesistergotknockedup,andshedidn’thaveacarwithanewborn.She’sonlyeighteen,

soIjustgaveittoher.Ididn’tneedit.”

IhopeinawayIpassedonthesamegenerositythatDeandid,exceptonasmallerscale,because

whatDeandidformewasvery,verygenerous.Danielleneededacar,andIhadaspareone.Andnow

sheandherbabyboyhaveamodeoftransport.

“Thatwasniceofyou,”hesays.

“I’manicegirl,”Ireply,archingmybrow.

Hegrinsandnods.“Iknow.”

Heparksthecarandwewalkuptomyapartment,hishatlowonhisheadandhisshadeson.

Whenwewalkinside,Iseethathe’salreadysetthetableandtherearetwocandlesinthecentreofit.

Ilookathimtoseehimwatchingme,gaugingmyreaction.Ishetryingtomakethisaromantic

dinner?Likeadate?Well,apparentlyhealreadyhadoneofthosetoday,somaybehejustturnsevery

situationintoadate.Hewalksaheadandpullsoutachairforme,soIsit.It’skindofearlyfordinner,but

I’mstarving,soI’mthankfulthathecookedearly.I’msecretlyhopinghemademefriedriceagain,

althoughIdoubtthathedid.

“Whatareyouthinking?”heasksashestepsintothekitchenandopenstheoven.

“I’mwonderingifit’sfriedrice,”Iblurtout,peekingovertotryandseewhathepullsoutofit.

Heservesthefoodandbringstwoplatestothetable.Hemadesteak,mashedpotato,corn,andgarlic

bread.Mymouthwaters,especiallyatthelookofthemushroomgravyontopofthemeat.

“Thatlooksamazing,”Isay,pickingupmyfork.

“Nottoodisappointeditisn’tfriedrice?”hejokes,returningtothekitchen.Hecomesbacktothe

tablewithabowl,whichheputsinthecentre.Ipeerintoit.Friedrice.HesitsdownwhileIlookathim,

shakingmyheadinawe.

“Youaresomethingelse,DeanAmore,”Isay,smiling.“Youdidn’thavetogotosomucheffort.

Thesteakisperfect.”Igrabthebowloffriedriceandstickmyforkinit.“Youreallyspoilme,youknow

that?”

“Effortistheonethingthatdetermineshowmuchsomeonewantsyouintheirlife,Sabina.Of

courseI’mgoingtoputineffortwhenitcomestoyou,andthatwillneverchange.”

Iputthebowldown,andthefork,standup,andmovetohim.Boldlysittingonhislap,Iwrapmy

armsaroundhimandgentlykisshislips.Ihavenowordstosay,soI’mgoingtoletmylipshandlethe

situation.Noonehaseversaidanythinglikethattomebefore.Noonehascaredsomuch.Iendthekiss

andburymyfaceinhisneck,smellinghisscent.

Itsmellslikehome.

Whydidn’tIseethisbefore?

“I’llcookforyoueverydamndayifthat’sthereactionI’mgoingtoget,”hesays,handssliding

downmyback.Hekissesmyforehead,thentellsmetoeat.“Iknowyou’rehungry.”

WhenIdon’tmove,hecutsapieceofhisownsteak,addssomemashedpotato,andbringsittomy

lips.Iopenmymouth,thengroanasthedelicioustastehitsmytongue.“Holycrap,yousureknowhowto

grillasteak.”

Helaughs,shakingmewithhim.“Gladyouapprove.”

Igetupandsitinmyownchair,notwantingtostophimfromeatingtoo.Heputsomucheffort

intocookingandIwanttoshowhimhowmuchIappreciateit.Ieateverythingonmyplateandsavethe

riceforseconddinner,wheneverIgethungrynext.Hehelpsmecleanup,andthenIhaveahotshower

andgetintomypyjamas.WhenIleavemyroom,he’sonthecouchwatchingTV.

“Whatmoviedoyouwanttowatch?”heasks,takinginmyblacksilkshortsandsinglettop.

“AlthoughIdon’tknowhowyouexpectmetoconcentratewithyouwearingthat.”

Ilookdownatmytopandgrin.“What,thisoldthing?”

Itactuallyisn’told,butitisn’tneweither.It’saperfectsetforthosewarmsummernights,and

yeah,it’salsoveryflattering.Idon’twanttoexaminewhyIputsomucheffortintomyfreakingpyjamas.

Yeah,let’snotgothererightnow.

Hearchesabrowandliftshisarmup,silentlytellingmetocomeandsitnexttohim.Ipressmy

bodyagainsthis,hisarmscomingaroundme.“Whatareyouinthemoodfor?”

“Thisisgood,”Isay,buryingmyfaceinhischest.

Hechuckles,kissesthetopofmyhead,andsays,“Towatch,Sabina.Tellmewhatyouwantto

watchorI’llendupputtingonahorrorandIknowyoudon’tlikethose.”

Iliftmyhead.“It’snotthatIdon’tlikethem,Ijusthavebaddreamsafterwards.AndIpreferto

avoidthat.”

“Youwon’thavebaddreamswhileI’mhere,”hesays,soundingconfident.

“Youcan’tknowthat.”

“Wanttomakeabet?”hesays,kissingjustbelowmyear.“We’llwatchascarymovieyou’ve

beenwantingtosee,buthavebeentooscaredto.Yousleepwithmetonight,justsleep,andIbetyouthat

youdon’thaveanybaddreams.”

“AndifIdo?”Iask,theideaofgettingtohughimallnightextremelyappealing.Also,becauseit’s

abet,wedon’thavetoquestionoroverthinkwhyI’mstayingwithhim.Itworkswondersformydenial.

“Thenyougetwhateveryouwant.”

Iblink.“Whatdoyoumean,whateverIwant?”

“Whateveryouwantfromme,I’llgiveittoyou.Ifyouaskmesomething,I’lldoitforyou.Ifyou

wantsomething,I’llgetitforyou.”

“I’mnotgoingtoaskyoutobuymeanything,”Isay,liftingmychin,eventhoughthatdamn

GivenchybaghasbeencallingmynameforawhilenowbutIhaven’twantedtobreakthebankforit.

“Wellthen,theball’sinyourcourt.”

“Andifyouwin?”Iask,wonderingwhathewantsoutofthis.

“ThenyouhavetosleepwithmeeverynightuntilIleave.”

Untilheleaves.

Idon’tevenwanttothinkaboutthatrightnow;Irefuseto.

“Deal,”Isay,offeringhimmyhand.Weshakeonit,andthenIchoosethemovie.Taratoldmeit

wasgood,butI’vebeentooscaredtowatchit.IguesstonightI’llbebattlingmorefearsthanone.

Watchingascarymovie,andpotentiallylettinganothermanin.

ChapterFourteen

Wewatchthemovie,andinDean’sarmsit’sactuallynotsobad.Whenit’sover,Ibrushmyteeth,

washmyface,thenmeethiminmybedroomafterhe’sdonethesame.Webothstandatthebed,lookingat

eachother.Arewereallygoingtodothis?Spendingthenightinthesamebed,ineachother’sarms,

seemslikecrossingawholenewline.It’salmostasifmysubconscioushasdecidedformethatI’mallin,

andnowtherestofmejusthastocatchup.Deanliftsthesheets,flashesmeawolfishgrin,andnodstothe

bed.“Ladiesfirst.”

MyliptwitchesasIsitonthebed,thenlieback.Hedoesthesame,stretchinghisarmoutforme

tolaymyheadon.Igetinposition,thenlookupathim.“Ican’tbelievewe’respendingthenight

together.”

“Doyounotwantto?”heasks,hisfreehandrunningdownthesideofmystomach.“Icanthinkof

manypros.”

“It’snotthatIdon’twantto,it’sjustthatIknowweshouldn’t.Soit’skindoflikewhatIwant,my

ownfeelingsagainstmymorals,doyouknowwhatImean?I’matwarwithmyself,andtheselfishpartof

meiswinning.”Itakeadeepbreathandpressakissontohischeek,whichisstartingtogetpricklywith

stubble.“Ithinkthere’salwaysbeensomethingbetweenus,Dean.Ijustpeggeditasfriendship,because

that’sallitcouldeverbe.Inevereventhoughtaboutit,butlookingback…thatconnectionhasalways

beenthere.Andtobehonest,itmakesmefeellikeafuckingterriblepersontoadmitthatoutloud,

becauseIwasmarriedtoBen.It’slikeI’mshittingalloverhismemoryorsomething.Soyes,Iwanttobe

herewithyourightnowmorethananything,butIfeelguiltyoverit,too.”

Andthereitis.

Thehonesttruth,andsayingitoutloudmakesitsodamnreal.

“You’renotaterribleperson,”hesays,soundingangry.“Ifanyoneisinthewrong,it’sme,not

you.Hewasmycousin,Sabina.ButlikeIsaidbefore,he’snothere,andwhenhewas,wedidn’tdo

anythingwrong.Nolineswerecrossed.Wehaveachancetobehappynow,shouldwenottakeit?”He

pushesmyhairoffmyface,cuppingmycheekwithhishand.“I’mnotgoingtopushyouintoanything.If

youdon’twantthisthensayso,andI’llleave,noquestionsasked.Idon’twantyoutofeelguilty,Sabina.I

don’twantyoutothinkofusasabadthing,becauseit’snot.IwishyoucouldseeithowIseeit.”

“Howdoyouseeit?”Iask,eyesclosingsleepily.

“Likeit’sthebestthingtohappentome.LikeImightactuallyhavemychanceathappiness.”

Ifallasleepafterthat,buthiswordsarethelastthingonmymind.

Hishappiness.

That’sallIwantforhim.

Thebestthingtohappentohim?He’dmakemetheluckiestwomanonearth,nottheotherway

around.CanIdothis?

IsittimeformetostopthinkingabouthowBenwouldfeel,andinsteadconcentrateonhowI

couldmakeDeanfeel?I’maloyalperson,andthisiskillingme.IwishIcouldjustmoveforward,focus

onthefuture,butit’snotalwaysthateasy.Iknowthatnothingworthanythingcomeseasy.Isthisoneof

thosetimes?Noonehastowalkinmyshoesexceptme.Noonehastolivethislifebutme.Ishoulddo

whatwillmakemehappy.Maybeit’smewhoneedstofightformysecondhappilyeverafter.Andthe

scarything?

Maybethefirstonewasn’tmeanttobe.

Idon’thaveanybaddreams.

Infact,I’veneverfeltsosafeinmylife.

*****

Whenmyfingerstouchbareskin,myeyesopen.Whendidhetakehisshirtoff?Hemusthave

gottenwarmduringthenight.He’ssleepingonhisside,facingawayfromme,soIscootclosertohimand

restmycheekonhisbareback,myarmswrappingaroundhim,beingthebigspoon.Ipressmylipstohis

skinandclosemyeyes,justenjoyingthemoment.Ifeelsopeacefulwhenhe’saround,likeI’mmeantto

behererightnowwithhim.

LikeI’mmeanttobewhereverheis.

Whataclusterfuckthisis.

I’mjustgoingtohavetodealwithwhateveristhrownatme,becauseIwanthim,andhewants

me.He,outofallpeople,deservestohavewhathewants,andifit’sme…whyshouldIquestionthat?I

willalwaysloveBen,andIwillneverforgethim.It’sbeenjustoverayearnowandIhaven’tevenbeen

withanyoneelse.Ididn’treallywantto,untilnow.Idon’tthinkthere’sarightorwrongtimetomoveon

afteryoulosesomeone.Thereisn’tarulebookwhichstatesasetamountoftime,butIfeellikerightnow

thetimeisright.Ikisshisbackagain,thenletmyfingersrundownhisrigidabdomen,feelingevery

muscle.

“Mmmmm,”hehums,thenrollsoverontohisback,turninghisheadtome.“Goodmorning,

beautiful.”

Myheartskipsabeatattheendearment.Myfirsttimewakingupwithhim,andallwedidwas

cuddle.Now,though,IthinkIwantsomethingmorefromhim.Heturnshisbodytomeandreachesout,

touchingmycollarbonewithhisindexfinger.“Whatdoyouwant,Sabina?Youhaveahungrylookinyour

eyes.”

“Haveyouseenthislookinmyeyesbefore?”Iask,boldlygivinghimaonce-overfromhisface

tohiscockinhistrackpants,thenbackupagain.

“Ihave,”hesays,liptwitching.“Whenyoulookatfood.”

Thatmakesmelaugh,becauseit’sprobablytrue.

“Andthefewtimesthatwe’vekissed,”hecontinues,hisfingersnowtracingthecurveofmy

breast.“ButIthinkthisisthehungriestI’veseenthem,andwithoutyourmindworkingbehindthem.”

“Iwantyou,”Itellhim,quietly.“Idon’tcarewhatanyonehastosay,Dean.What’sthepointin

fightingsomethingthateveryoneelseisdesperatelysearchingfor?”

“Someonedidalotofthinkingsincelastnight,”hesays,studyingme.“Areyousure?Whatifyou

changeyourmind,Sabina?”

“Iwon’t,”Isay,lickingmylips.“I’dneverregretyou.”

That’sonethingthatIknowforsure.Hemeanstoomuch,andhasalwaysbeeninmylifeinsome

wayorform.Weknoweachother.Idon’tthinkthisisrushinganything.Ithinkthatthebeginningofficially

startsnow.Idon’thaveanythingtolose,andeverythingtogainatthispoint.Unlessitdoesn’tworkout

andweloseourfriendship,whichhesayswillneverhappen.Shuttingmythoughtsoff,Ileanforwardand

justkisshim.

Fuckeverything.

It’stimeIgetsomethingthatIwant.

Hepinsmeunderhim,bracinghimselfontopofmeasthekissdeepens,hishandsonmycheeks,

nospaceleftbetweenourbodies.“Areyouallin,Sabina?”

Iletmyhandsroamdownhistonedback,restingonhisarse.I’vealwayswantedtograbhisarse,

andnowIhavethechance.“Yeah,Dean.I’mallin.”

Icanfeelhishardcockpressedagainstmethroughourclothes,andIcan’twaittofeelitinside

me.It’sbeensolongthatI’mpracticallyavirginagain;Icanbarelyrememberwhatitfeelslike,butI

knowwithDeanit’sgoingtobeamazing.

Perfect.

Heendsthekissbutonlytokissdownmyneck,turningmeonsomuchthatIcanbarelybreathe.

Myneckissosensitive,andit’sbeensolongsinceI’vefeltsomeone’slipsthere.Hekissesmy

collarbone,thenpullsdownthethinstrapofmytop,pressinghislipsagainstmybareshoulder.Mytop

fallsdownfurther,exposingoneofmybreasts,andhe’squicktopayattentiontoit,kissingaroundand

cuppingitbeforelickingandgentlysuckingonthenipple.Heslidesdownmyotherstrapthencupsboth

breasts,glancingupatme.“Youaresofuckingperfect,Sabina.JustasIalwaysimagined.”

Iwanttoreplytothatbutmymouthcan’tseemtoformanywords.Mybrainisswitchedoff;no

morewords,justmefeeling.HecontinueswithhisdelicioustortureuntilIbeghimtotouchme.Hetugs

downmyshortsandmyredlacepanties,makingasoundofapproval.

“Fuck,”hewhispers,spreadingmythighsandglancingupatme.Heflashesmeacheekygrin

beforehelowershisfacetomybarepussyandstartstolickme.

“Holyshit,”Imoan,havingforgottenhowamazingthisfeels.Benhardlywentdownonme,and

fromwhatIrememberitdidn’tfeelhalfasgoodasDean’smouthdoes.Whenhesucksonmyclit,Ican

feelmylegsstarttoshake,andIknowI’mgoingtocome.

“Dean.”Imoanouthisname,tryingtowarnhim.HemustknowwhatI’mtryingtotellhim

becausehepinsmyhipsdownwithhishandsandlicksmyclitalittlefaster,sendingmeovertheedge.

Myhandsleavethesheets,grippingandthreadingthroughhishair,pullinggentlyasthepleasuretakes

overme.ImakeawhimperingsoundI’veneverheardmyselfmakebefore,anddriftinadreamlikestate

asIcomebacktomyself.“OhmyGod.”

Deanliftshishead,watchingme.“I’mnotfinishedwithyouyet,Sabina.”

“Iknow,”Isay,smilingtomyself.Ithoughthemeantthatwe’regoingtohavesexnow.Instead,he

lowershisheadagain,continuingtolickmypussy.

Fuck.

Let’shopeIsurvivehim.

ChapterFifteen

Aftermakingmecometwicemore,Deanfinallyslidesinsideofme,slowly.Withoureyes

connected,mybreathhitchesasIfinallyfeelallofhim.Hetakesitslow,whichIappreciate.Eventhough

IcanfeelhowwetIam,Ineedtogetusedtothesizeofhim.

“Youfeelsogood,Sabina,”hegritsoutbetweenclenchedteeth.“Sofuckingtight.”

DidItellhimthatIhaven’tbeenwithanyoneelsethislastyear?Idon’tthinkthatIdid.Heslams

hislipsbackdownonmineandthrustsintome.Imoanintohismouth,lovingthefeelofhim,wanting

everythinghehastogive.Andmore.Heburieshisfaceinthecrookofmyneck,kissingmetherewhile

slidinginandoutofme.Ican’texplainwhatI’mfeelingrightnow.Ifeelsoconnectedtohim,morethan

justphysically.Irunmyhandsthroughhishair,liftinghisheadandbringingthoselipsbacktomine.

Ineverwanttostopkissinghim.Ineverwanthislipstoleavemyskin.Iwanttobelikethis

forever.

HereachesdownbetweenusandplayswithmeuntilIcomeoncemore,themostI’veever

orgasmedinonetime,andthenhefollows,lookingintomyeyesashefinishes.Seeingthepleasureplay

outonhisexpressionissomethingIwillnevertireof;hisheavy-liddedgreeneyesandhisslightlyopened

mouthmakingmewanttodoallofthisagain,rightnow.

Herestshisforeheadagainstmine,andwejustwaitlikethatforafewmoments.

Whenhepullsoutofme,Iinstantlymisshim.Heliesbacknexttomeandpullsmeintohisarms,

kissingmycheek.“Weneverspokeaboutifyou’reonbirthcontrolornot.”

Inodsleepily.“Yeah,I’monthepill.”

“Okay,”hesays,sighing.“Thatwas…indescribable.Youaresobeautiful,Sabina.Perfect.Fuck.”

Iknowexactlywhathemeans.I’msohappyandsatedrightnow,nothingcouldmakethismoment

better.Hesawallofme,therewasnodarknesstohideanything,everyflawonmybody,anyscaror

freckle,hesaw,andIsaweveryinchofhim.

“Ihavenowordsforwhatyouare,”Imumble,smiling.“AndI’mfarfromperfect.”

“Tomeyouare,”hesays,kissingthebackofmyneck.“Youstayinbed.I’llmakeussomethingto

eat.”

“Well,I’mnotgoingtosaynotothat,”Isayonasigh,laughingasheslapsmyarsebeforeexiting

thebed.Ilieinbedforafewmoments,coveringmyfacewithmypillowwhenIcan’tseemtostop

smiling.Ithengetupandhaveashowerwhilehe’sbusyinthekitchen,andthenjoinhimonceI’m

dressedandreadytofacetheday.However,itseemslikeDeanhasotherplans.

“Whatdoyouwanttodotoday?”Iaskhim,comingupbehindhimandhugginghim.

“Stayinbed,”hesays,turningandwatchingmewithheatinhiseyes.“I’mnotdonewithyouyet,

babe.Whydidyougetdressed?I’mjustgoingtoriptheclothesoffyou.”

Myeyeswiden.Thethoughtofstayinginbedsoundsfuckingperfect.“Youcan…goagainso

soon?”Iaskhim,glancingdownathiscock.BenandIonlyhadsexonceeveryfewdays.Ididn’tthink

thathe’dwanttogoagain…butifhewantsto.Welldamn,I’mmorethandownforthat.

Hechucklesandkissesmylips.“Igethardjustlookingatyou,Sabina.Yes,Icangoagainso

soon.Iwanttofeedyoufirst,though.”

Isitatthetableuntiltheomeletteisready,theneatwhilehehasaquickshower.I’mwashingmy

handsinthesinkwhenhewalksbackintothekitchen,althoughthistimehe’sstarknaked.

“Andthistimeit’sonpurpose,”hesays,winking,makingmecrackuplaughing.Hecomesupand

liftsmeinhisarms,pickingmeuplikeonewouldabride,andIemitagirlysqueal.Helaysmedownon

thecouchandstartstoslideoffmydenimshorts,goingdownonhisknees.Iwatchhim,feelingso

overwhelmedwithhim,butinagoodway.Inthebestway,likeIcan’tbelievehe’sherewithmeright

now,makingmefeelsohappy,butterfliesinmystomach,likelifeissofuckingamazing.Becausehemade

itthatway.Herunshisfingersovermywhitelacepanties,thenslidesthemdowntoo.Iwanthismouthon

meagain,butI’mtooshytoaskforit.Ijustwatchhiminstead,waitingforhimtomakehisnextmove.

“Whatdoyouwant,Sabina?”heasks,asifreadingmymind.

“Ummm,”Imumble,leaningbackonthecouch.

“Yes?”heprompts.

“Iwantyourmouthonmeagain,”Isayinaquickrushofwords.

“Youwantmymouthwhere?”heasks,touchingtheinsideofmythigh.“Here?”

“Wellyoucouldstartthere,”Isay,makinghimlaughsoftly.

“Andwheredoyouwantmetoend?”heasks,kissingmythighontheexactspothisfingerswere.

Iclearmythroat.“Mypussy.”

“Hmmm,”hehums,smilingatme.“Anytimeyouwantmymouthonyou,justtellme,Sabina.And

you’llgetwhatyouwant.”

Helowershisheadtotasteme.

Ismileandmoanatthesametime.

*****

“We’regoingtohavetogetoutofbedeventually,”Isay,lyingontopofhim.“Shouldweorder

somefoodorsomething?”

“Yeahthatsoundsgood,”hesays,reachingoutforhisphone.“Whatdoyoufeellike?”

“Areyougoingtoorderfoodwithyourdickstillinsideofme?”Iaskhim,eyesgoingwide.Itry

andmoveoffhimbuthekeepsmeinplacewithahandonmyspine.

“Why?What’swrongwithit?It’snotlikethey’regoingtoknowwhatwe’redoingrightnow,”he

says,soundingamused.

“Yeah,butthat’snotthepoint,”Isay,liftingmyheadandrestingmypalmsonhischest.

“Chinese?”heasks,pressingbuttonsonhisphone.Hebringsthephonetohisear,asmirkonhis

face.“Hello,yes,couldIpleaseplaceanorderfordelivery.”Hewaitsasecond,thensays,“Yes,I’m

insidemygirlrightnow,justincaseyouwantedtoknow.”

MyeyesgothesizeofsaucersasItryandgrabthephonefromhim.Igetitinmyhandandlookat

thescreen,butthebastardwasn’tevenonacall.Hestartslaughinglikehe’sthefunniestmanonearth,

whileIrolloffhim,pickupapillow,andstarthittinghimwithit.

“Yougavemeaheartattack!”Igrowl,shakingmyheadathim.“Andyoubetteractuallyorder

someChinesenow.”

Helaughsagain,softerthistime,andreacheshishandouttome.“Iwill.Getbackinbed.”

Iclimbbackonthebedanddiveunderthesheetswhileheactuallyordersthistime.Herattlesoff

myapartmentaddressthenhangsup,instantlyenfoldingmeinhisarms.Iclosemyeyesandenjoythe

feelingofjustbeingnexttohim,myskinpressedagainsthis,knowingthatImadetherightdecisionto

givethetwoofusachance.There’snowayanyothermancouldhavemademefeellikethis.

It’sjusthim.

We’reinourlittlebubblenow,andI’mnotgoingtoworryaboutwhatisbeyondit.

Herunshisfingersthroughmyhairandstartstomassagemyhead.

“Thatfeelssogood,”Imurmur,inacompletestateofbliss.

“Whydon’tyoutellmeabouteverythingyou’vebeenuptosinceIsawyoulast?”hesaysinasoft

tone.“Allaboutyourtravels,everything.Nodetailistoosmall.”

Ismile.“Okay.”

AndItellhimeverythingaboutwhereIwent,whoImet,andwhatadventuresIgotupto.Andhe

listens,hangingontomyeverywordlikenooneelseeverhasbefore.

ChapterSixteen

Weventureoutthenextday.

Wedecidetotakearoadtripdownsouth,wherewewillspendtwonights.It’snicetogetoutof

thecitysometimes,andIcanonlyimaginetheplacethatDeanbookedforustostay.ItoldhimIwantedto

paybutheprettymuchignoredme.Hebetterletmepayforsomethingatleastduringthistrip,becauseI

wanttocontributeinsomeway.AtleastIpaidforthepetrol,butonlybecauseifhegotoutofthecarit

wouldhavedrawnattention.Ithinkhe’sastrongandgraciouspersontonotcomplainaboutnotbeingable

todonormaleverydaythings.Littlethings,likewalkingintoastorewithoutpeoplewantingtotake

photos.Ithastobetiring,buthenevercomplains.Hetrulyloveswhathedoes,andIneedtounderstand

thatbeingwithhimcomeswithalotofdifferentthings.Ineedtoacceptallofthosethings.

Dean’shandisonmyupperthighashedrives,andIlikeitthere.“Doyouwantmetodrive?”I

askhim,stretchingmyarmstotheroof.“Letmeknowifyou’regettingtired,orifyouwantabreak.”

“I’mfine,”hesays,squeezingmythigh.“Doyouwanttostopandgetsomethingtoeatordrink?”

“No,I’mgood,”Itellhim.Ikindofneedtopee,butIcanwaituntilthenextpetrolstop.

Whenwegetthere,IcheckusinwhileDeanunloadsthebags,thenwewalktoourroom.Wellat

leastIthoughtitwasgoingtobearoom.“Yourentedusawholehouse?”Iaskhimasheunlocksthedoor

andopensitformetoenter.Iwalkinside,andtheplaceisabsolutelystunning.Spacious,modern,and

luxurious.

“Thisplaceisinsane,”Isay,lookingaround.“Ican’tbelievethisistheplaceyouchose.”

“Ididn’twantustorunintoalotofpeople,”heexplains,shruggingapologetically.“AndIwanted

youtostayinabeautifulplace.You’llgetusedtoit.”

Irollmyeyes,standingbyhissideandwrappingmyarmaroundhiswaist.“Well,it’sdefinitely

beautiful.I’msoexcitedtogodiving!”

Ilovebeinginthewater,andsodoesDean.WecoulddothiseverydayandI’dnevertireofit.

Swimming,eating,andthenmakinglove.Ican’timagineabetterlife.Becausewe’vebeenfriendsforso

long,it’ssocomfortabletobearoundhim,yetIdon’tmissoutonthebutterfliesanddreamyhazesthat

comewiththestartofsomethingnew.It’ssonewrightnow,yetitfeelsasifI’mrightwhereI’mmeantto

be.Idon’tunderstandit,andI’mnotgoingtotrytoanymore.Ifsomethingmakesmehappy,I’mnotgoing

tobestupidenoughtotryandleaveit.

“Metoo,”hesays.“Ialsocan’twaittoseeyouinabikini.”

“You’veseenmeinabikinicountlesstimes,”Iremindhim,althoughtheoneIbroughtwithmeto

wearduringthetripissomethingparticularlysexy,anewoneI’veneverwornbefore.

“Yeah,I’veseenyouinabikini,”hesays,handsrunningoverthecurveofmyarse.“ButI’ve

neverbeenabletotouchyoubefore,oradmireyoucloselywithoutlookingawaybeforeanyonenotices.”

Iglanceupathim,myexpressiongentling.“Let’sconsiderthisafirstthen,”Isay,steppingupon

mytoesandkissinghislips.“I’mgoingtochangeintoit,andthenyoucantouchmeallyouwant.Andyou

canlookallyouwant.”

Herestshishandsonthesmallofmyback.“Ican’tfuckingwait.”

Hekissesmeagain,deeper,histonguedancingwithmine.Wecan’tkeepourhandsoffeachother,

it’scrazy.It’smewhoendsthekiss,flashinghimaflirty,seductivesmilebeforegrabbingmybagand

headingtowardsthebedroom.

He’sinforsomethingspecial.

*****

“Fuckinghell,Sabina,”hegrowls,walkingaroundmeinacircle.It’sthefirsttimeI’veoptedfor

sucharevealingset,butwhythehellnot?“Doyouknowhowincredibleyoulook?Fuck.You’renot

wearingthatinfrontofothermen,soIhopeyoubroughtsomeshortsorsomething.”

Igrinanddoalittlebootyshake.“Relax,Dean.Aren’twegoingoutonaprivateboat?Itwilljust

beusagain.”

Andwhoeverisdrivingtheboat.Isitcalleddriving?Ormaybeit’ssteering.Ihavenoidea.

Herunshisfingerdownthemiddleofmybreasts,overthebikinitopanddowntomybellybutton.

“Doyouknowhowbeautifulyouare?Howsexy?”Hekissesmethenliftsmeintheair,mylegscoming

aroundhiswaist.“DoyouknowhowmanysongsI’vewrittenthathavebeenaboutyou?”

Istillatthat.“What?Really?”

Henodsandwalkstothecouch,sittingdownwithmestraddlinghim.“Listentothelyrics,Sabina,

becausethey’reallyou.”

Iknowallofhislyrics,butneveroncedidIthinktheyhadanythingtodowithme.Never.The

songhesanginmylivingroomlasttime,theoneaboutunrequitedlove...whydidn’tIseeitthen?

IguessIwasn’treadyto.

IknowIwasn’treadyto.

Irestmyforeheadagainsthis,lookingintothosemesmerizinggreeneyes.“Iknowallyourlyrics.

Iknowallyoursongs.Icansingthem,wordforword.I’vealwaysbeenyourbiggestfan,Dean,andI

alwayswillbe,butneveroncedidIthinkthatI’dinspireyoutowritethemaboutme.”Itakeadeep

breath.“Andsomeofthemarereallysadsongs.”

“Ithinkmynextalbumwillbemuchhappier,”hesays,kissingmesoftly.“Iknowitwillbe.

Happier,sexier.Morepassionate,morecrazy.Moreeverything,becauserightnowI’mjustfeeling.

Everything.”

Feelingeverythingisgood.

Deanchangesintoapairofswimshortsandweheadstraightforthewater,withoutwastingany

time.

Wespendtherestofthedayinthesun,sidebyside,justspendingtimetogether,makingjokesand

enjoyingeachother’scompany.Deantellsmeaboutthepeopleinhislife,thepeoplewhoworkforhim,

likehismanager,butalsohisfriendsinLA.

“Yourphone’snevergoingoffthough,”Ipointout.“Wouldn’tyourmanagerandpublicistetcetera

betryingtocontactyou?”

“Myphoneisonsilent,”hesays,shrugging.“TheyleaveamessageandIgetbacktothemwhenI

havethetime.Ihardlytakeholidays,sowhenIdotheydon’tcallmuchunlessit’sanemergencyorthey

needtoaskmesomethingthatcan’twait.Usuallythey’lljustcallmypersonalassistantandshe’lldeal

withit.”

“Whataboutwhenyourfriendsaretryingtocontactyou?”Iask.“LikethatEricachickyouwent

onadatewith.”

“Erin,”hesays,grabbingmeandrollingmeunderhiminthesand.“Anditwasn’tadate.”

“Soundedlikeonetome,”Igrumble.“Soundslikeyouweredoingwithherwhatwe’redoing

rightnow.Hangingoutatthebeach.”

“Weweren’talone,”hesays,eyesloweringtomylips.“DidIforgettomentionthatpart?Her

brotherwaswithus,heisalsoafriendofmine.”

Inarrowmyeyesonhim.“Wereyoutryingtomakemejealous?”

“Diditwork?”

“No.”

Hisliptwitches.“Areyousureaboutthat?Youdon’tseemtolike…Ericaverymuch.”

No,Idon’t.

“Wellshe’sjustafriend,right?Sowhywouldn’tIlikeher?”Isay,keepingastraightface.I’m

actuallynotusuallyajealousperson.Idon’tthinkIwouldhavecaredifhehadn’tmadeitsoundlikea

date,andeventhoughhewasn’tminethen,andIdon’tevenknowifhe’sminenow,yeahitannoyedme.

ButIhidit,oratleastIthoughtIdid.Jealousyisn’tcute,andalthoughhe’sfindingitamusingnowIdon’t

wanthimtothinkI’mlikethat.I’mnotaninsecureperson.Butdamn,Idon’tthinkanywomanwantsthe

guytheyhavefeelingsfor,especiallywhenyoudon’tevenknowwhereyoustand,atthebeachwith

anotherwoman.

Hiseyesarefilledwithhumourandmischiefashesays,“Idon’tknow,whydon’tyoutellme?

Especiallywhenyouhaveabsolutelynothingtoworryabout.Withanywoman.”

Anywoman?

Howisthismansoamazing?

“EvenBellaReed?”Iaskgently,pressingmylipstohisinaquickkissthatIcan’thelp.

Helaughsshortly,thenpushesmyhairoffmyface.“Especiallyher.”

Ismileashislipsdescendbackonmine.

ChapterSeventeen

We’rebackhomeandI’mwashingourclothesfromthetripwhileDeanismakingusdinner.When

someoneknocksonthedoorIhavenoideawhoitcouldbeuntilIhearTara’svoice.Igrinandrushtothe

door,thenpullherintomyarms.

“Hello,gorgeous,”Isay,squeezingher.

“Howwasthetrip?”sheasksasbothofusletgo.

“Amazing,”Isay,leadinghertothekitchen.

“Hey,Dean,”shesays,smilingandawkwardlywavingathim,makingmelaugh.Shelooksreally

cuteinafloralsummerdressandsandals,herblondehairtiedupinamessybunthatshe’sperfectedover

theyears.

“Hey,Tara,”Deansays,flashingheracharmingsmile.“Stayfordinner?I’mmakingenoughto

feedanarmy.”

Sheglancesathim,thenbackatme.“Sure,I’llstay.IfeellikeIhaven’tseenyouinsolong,andI

needmyBinatime.”

Ilovemybestfriend.

“Doyouwanttowatchamovie,eatsnacks,andgossip?”Iaskher,alreadyheadingtothekitchen

forsomechipsanddiptotideusoveruntildinnerisready.“Yougoingtojoinus?”IaskDeanasIpass

him,winkingathim.

“No,”hesays,smirking.“Yougohavesomegirltime.I’llfinishuphere.”

Iwrapmyarmsaroundhimandkissthesideofhisneck,gratefulforhimbeingsocool,andthen

sitonthecouchwithmybestfriend.

“Tellmeeverything,”shewhispers,takingthechipsfrommeandopeningthem.“AllIgetfrom

youisamessagesayingyou’regoingawaywithDean,whoyousleptwith.”Shepausesandsmirks.“You

luckybitch,bytheway.”

IknowjusthowluckyIam.

Igiveheraverybriefrundownonwhathashappenedsofar,basicallythatIwanttogivethingsa

trywithDean,whichhashersmilingfromeartoear.“I’msohappyforyou,Bina,”shesays,pattingmy

leg.“AndcanIsaythatI’msoproudthatyou’rebackinthegame.”

Irollmyeyesather.“I’mnotbackinthegame.I’mexploringsomethingwithsomeoneI’veknown

foralongtime.”

Thisisanythingbutagame.

It’skindofscary,puttingmyheartonthelinelikethis,andpossiblyevenlosingoneofthemost

importantpeopleinmylifeifitgoessour.Iknowhesaysitwon’t,buthedoesn’tknowthat.Noone

thinkstheirrelationshipwillturnbad,butthesadtruthisthatmostdo.Justlookatthedivorcerate.Idon’t

thinkanyonegoesintoarelationshipthinkingthatitwon’tworkout.Everyonestartsoutoptimistic.

Whatadepressingthoughtthatis.

“Ifit’sdating,you’reinthegame,”shesays,smirking.“Nowdon’tdoyouroverthinkingbullshit

andyou’lldofine.Bytheway,DeanAmoreisdomesticated?Cooking?Isthereanythingheisn’tgood

at?”

Shewiggleshereyebrows.

Ishakemyheadno.

Webothburstoutlaughing.

IcanjustimaginewhatDeanisthinking,hearinguslaughingourarsesoff,butheshouldknowby

nowwhatwe’relikewhenwe’retogether.We’reloud,alwaysmakingprivatejokes,andusuallytake

thingstoofar.

“Howdidyourdategotheothernight?”Iask,turningthefocustoher.“Seeinghimagain,ornot?”

Shemakesaface.“I’mnotsure.Thedatewentokay,buttherewasn’treallythatin-your-face

chemistry,youknow?”

“IsthistheguythatPersephonesetyouupwith?”Iask.

Sephieknowssomereallyhotguys.Hell,sheevenhastwohotbrothers,butthey’rebothtaken.

Shenods.“Yeahandhe’sgood-lookingandagentlemanandeverything.Ijustdon’tknow.”

“Maybegivehimanotherchance,”Isuggest.“Didyoukisshim?Ithinkyoucantellifthere’s

chemistryornotbythekiss.”

“Ididn’tkisshim,”shesays,smirking.“I’mtakingitslow,Bina.”

“Butnowyoudon’tknowandyou’rereconsideringanotherdate,”Isay,nudgingherplayfully.“I

saygofortheseconddate.Andkissthecrapoutofhim.Thenreportbacktomeoncompatibility.”

Shelaughsandsays,“Fine,Iguesswe’llseehowitgoesthen.”

“Ifnot,thereareplentyofothermenoutthere,”Isay,smilingtomyself.

“Areyousuddenlyaromantic?”

“No,”Ideny.

“Thenwhyareyoustillsmiling?”sheasks,archingherbrow.“You’resocute,Bina.”

“I’mnotsmiling,”Ilie,touchingmycheekswithmypalms.“Okay,maybeIam.Ijustfeelso…

ughhh!”

Ican’tevenexplainit.Justeverything.

“Happy?”Tarasupplies,smilingwarmly.“It’ssogoodtofinallyseeyouhappy.”

Finally?

“Youdon’tthinkIwashappybefore?”Iaskherinasoftvoice.WasIhappybefore?IthoughtI

was.

“Ido,”shesays,expressionsofteningbefore.“ButIdon’tknow,thisisdifferent.”

She’sright,itisdifferent.Idon’tknow,Ican’texplainiteither.

“Itfeelsgood,”Isay,duckingmyhead,thenglancingather.

Wesharealook.

Sheknowsmesowell.SheknowswhatI’mthinkingevenbeforeIdo,andthelookinhereyes

tellsmethatsheunderstandsexactlyhowI’mfeeling.

Thenshesmiles,andsays,“Iguessyou’renotgoingtobemywingwomananytimesoonthen?”

“Icanstillbeyourwingwoman,”Isaydefensively,browfurrowing.“Ijustwon’tbechasingthe

Dwithyou.”

Webothstartlaughingagain.

*****

“HowdidyoumeetTara?”Deanasksmewhilewe’reinbed.Taraleftaboutanhourago,after

weate.Goodfoodandcompany,can’taskformuchmore.

“Wemetinmyfirstyearofuni,”Iexplain,closingmyeyesasherunshisfingersthroughmyhair.

“Iwasstudyinginthelibrary,andshecamein,drenchedfromtherain.Westartedtalking,andjustgoton

reallywell.”

“Whatmadeyoustarttalking?”heasks.

“Ipointedatherandsaid,‘DidyoujustgetyourPradabagwet?’Andthenshenoddedsadly,soI

gotsometissuesoutofmybagandhelpedherdryit.”

Deanchucklesandmutters,“Yeah,Icanseethathappening.”

“She’smyfemalesoulmate,”Iadd,yawning.Ilookathimandsay,“I’mgoingtomissyouwhen

yougo.”

“I’mgoingtomissyoutoo,”hemurmurs,liftingmychinwithhisfinger.Helowershisfaceand

kissesme,hislipsalreadyknowingminesowell.Whenheleaves,it’sgoingtosuck.Butit’stoosoonfor

anythingelse;itwouldbestupidofmetomakearashdecisionandmovetoLAorsomething.Weonly

justadmittedourfeelingsforeachother,andIdon’tevenknowwhathewantstodowhenheleaves.Long

distanceornothing?Orevenworse,arewejustnotgoingtotalkaboutit,andthenI’llbeoverthinking

andanalysingeverysinglethinghesays.

He’sworthitthough.

Thisisworthit.

Wefallasleepineachother’sarms.

*****

Thenextfewdayspassinablur,andbeforeweknowit,it’sDean’slastnighthere.

“Howarewegoingtospendtoday?”heasks,pressinghislipstothebackofmyneck,sending

shiversupmyspine.

“Findingatimemachine?”Ijoke,sighing.“Idon’tknow.Inbed?Yes,Ithinkthatsoundsperfect.”

“Andwhatdoyouwanttodoinbed,Sabina?”heasksme,rollingmeovertofacehim.His

fingersslideinsidemypanties,andheslowlybeginstoplay.“This?”

Inod,unabletospeakashegrazesmyclit.

Whenheslidesafingerinside,asoftmoanescapesme.Yes,this,thisisexactlywhatIwanttodo

onourlastnighttogether.

Overandoveragain.

Hekissesmesoftly,histongueexpertlytoyingwithmine,hisfingerssensuallytorturingme.Istart

torubhiscockthroughthematerialofhisgreytrackpants,andIcanfeelhimhardenwitheachtouch.Itug

athispants,butneedalittlehelpfromhim,soheliftshishipsupwhileIpullthemdownenoughformeto

takehiscockoutandintomyhands.Istarttostrokehimwithonehand,theotherreachinguptolazilyplay

withmynipples.

Iendthekisstotellhim,“I’mgoingtocome.Iwanttocomewithyouinsideofme.”

Hestopstouchingmeandliesback,liftingmetostraddlehim.Islidedownmypantiesandthrow

themonthefloor,takinghishardlengthintomyhandandholdingitattheentranceofmypussy.Slowly,I

slidehiminsideofme,inchbydeliciousinch,untilhe’sfullyinme,andthenIstarttoridehim.Helifts

upthematerialofmywhitenightieuntilit’sovermyheadandoffme,soI’mfullynakedbeforehim.I’ve

noticedthathelikestowatchwhileIridehim…myface,mybreasts,andespeciallywhenIliftupand

downonhiscock.Helikestoseeitgoinginsideofme.Himwatchingmesointentlyturnsmeontoo,and

excitesmeevenmore.

“Babe,kissme,”heorders,andIleanforward,breastsswaying,andgivehimwhathewants.His

handsmovetogripmyarse,urgingmeforward,soIstarttomovefaster.Harder.IcomefirstlikeI

usuallydo,buryingmyfaceinhisneckandwhisperingcursesundermybreath,andthenhecomesshortly

after,hishipsjerkingupwardsashefillsme.

“Fuck,”hewhispersraggedly,liketheorgasmjuststoleeveryinchofenergyinhim.

Iliftmyheadtolookathim,andhecupsmycheekswithhishandsandkissesmyforehead.“Is

thiswhatyouwanttodoallday?”

“Andnight.”

Hisslowspreadingsmilemakesmyheartrace.“YoutryingtokillmebeforeIhavetoleave,

Sabina?”

“Areyoucomplaining,oldman?”Ireply,archingmybrow.

Hegrins.“Never.”

Wetakeanap,andthenexttimeIwakeupit’stohimslidingintomefromthespooningposition.

Bestlastdayever.

ChapterEighteen

Whenthere’saknockatthedoorthatevening,Ihavenoideawhoitcouldbe.IdoubtTarawould

comeovertoday,knowingDeanleavestomorrowmorning.Unlessit’sKate?Icringeatthethought.She

stilldoesn’tknowaboutDeanandme,butIknowsheisn’tgoingtolikeit.Deanmakesittothedoor

beforeme,soIstopandwaittoseewhoitis.

WhenIhearhimsay,“Whatareyoudoinghere?”inaslightlypanickedtone,I’mimmediately

curious.Ashestepsoutsideandclosesthedoorbehindhim,I’msuspicious.Iopenthedoorintimetosee

himusheringawomandownthehall.

“Dean,wait,”Isay,makinghimstopinhistracks.“What’sgoingonhere?”

Ileavethedooropenandwalktowardsthem.

“Sabina,goinside,”hesays,butthere’snowayinhellI’mgoinganywhereuntilIknowwhat’s

goingon.Ilookdown,andwiththewomanisasmallboy.

“Whoisthis?”Iask,smilingattheboy.“Hello,aren’tyouacutie?”

Iglanceupatthewoman,presumablythemother,whoavoidsmygaze,insteadlookingdownat

herson.Shelooksmucholderthanme,withblondefrizzyhairandshrewdeyes.Deangentlygrabsmeby

myupperarm.“Pleaseletmehandlethis.”

He’shidingsomethingfromme.

Isthisboyhiskid?

“Whateveritis,tellmethetruthnow,Dean,”Isay,lookinghimintheeye.Hewincesandturnsto

thewoman.

“ThisisSamandherson,Luke.”

“And?”Isay,lookingatSam,whoisstillavoidinglookingatmyface.“Isthischildyours?”I

lookdowntoLuke,andwishIhadn’tsaidthatinfrontofhim.Helooksaboutfour,oldenoughto

understand.

“No,”hesays,shakinghishead.“Idon’thaveanykids,Sabina.AndifIdid,you’dknowabout

them,becausethey’dprobablybeyours.”

Iexhaleslowly.“Thenwhatisit?”

“Idon’twanttotellyou,”hesays,shakinghishead.“IshouldhavetoldyoubutIdidn’tknow

how.I’msosorry,Sabina.”

“Whatisit?”Isnap,makingLukejump.

Fuck.

HowmuchofabitchamI?

ItryandsoftenmyexpressionasIaddresshim.“I’msorry,honey,Ididn’tmeantoscareyou.”

Themotherstillstayssilent.Shelooksasifshe’sscaredtoevenbreatherightnow.

Deanswallowshard.HenodstowardsLukeandsays,“He’sBen’sson.”I’msureIdidn’thear

right.“Wh-what?”

DidhejustsayBen’sson?

Ben.

AsinmyBen?

“Theremustbesomemistake,”Isay,shakingmyhead.Thekiddoeshavethesamecoloureyes

andhairasBen,butsodoalotofkids.Thatdoesn’tmeananything.Ifthisisadream,I’dliketowakeup

rightnow.

Please.

IaddressSamdirectly.“Isthistrue?”

Shefinallylooksatme,andnods.

“Isee,”Iwhisper.

SoBenhadcheatedonme,andhadababywithanotherwoman?Wasitonetimeoranongoing

thing?Doesitreallymatter?Ben’snotevenhere,butIstillfeelbetrayed.IfeellikeeverythingIthought

wastruebetweenuswasalie.HowblindhaveIbeen?WhatelsedidImiss?

“Comeon,let’sgoinside,”Deansays,usheringmeaway.HeturnstoSamandsays,“I’lltransfer

moremoneythroughtoyou.Butifyoucomehereagain,youwon’tseeanothercent.”

Samnods,butadds,“I’msickofbeinghidden,Dean.Lukedeservesmorethanthis.Ididn’tdo

anythingwrong.Don’tyouthinkit’stimesheknewthetruth?”

Shedidn’tdoanythingwrong?

Debatable.

Sure,shecouldgivemethewholeshedidn’towemeanyloyaltyline,andshe’dberight,buta

goodwomanwouldn’tdowhatshedideither.

Deanlooksdirectlyatherandsnaps,“Notanotherword,Sam.IwilltalktoSabina.”

HethensoftenshistoneandsaystoLuke,“I’llseeyousoon,littleman.”

LukenodsandgrinsatDean.

EvenhisgrinislikeBen’s.

Thiskidisfuckingcute,sweet,andaninnocent.Yetthereasonhe’sheremakesmewanttopunch

something.Itmakesthepaininmychestreturn,butforawholeotherreasonthistime.ThemanI’vebeen

mourningforallthistimewasafuckingcheaterandaliar.

Lukewavesbyetome,andIjustwatchhim.

Deanpracticallydragsmebackintomyapartmentandsitsmeonthecouch.Hebringsmecoffee.I

don’tdrinkit.Hetriestotalktome;Idon’twanttohearit.Hetriestotouchme,butIpushhimaway.

Yeah,Benfuckedmeover.

ButDeanknewaboutit,andhedidn’tsayathing.

EvenafterBendied,hedidn’ttellme.

Idon’tknowhowI’mmeanttobeokaywiththat.

*****

“Canwepleasetalk,”Deansays,pacingbackandforth.“Youwon’tevenlistentome,Sabina.”

“Weshouldhavehadatalkwhenyoufirstfoundoutaboutthis,Dean.Whichwaswhen?Has

everyonebeenhidingitfrommeforthelastfewyears?”

Thethoughtfuckinginfuriatesme.

“No,”Deansays,sittingdownnexttome.“IonlyfoundoutwhenBendied.Benusedtopaychild

support,andwhenitstopped,SamcametoKate’shouse.”

SoKateknew?Ofcourseshedid.ShewasprobablyhappybecauseBenleftsomething,or

someone,behind.

“Katerangmeupandtoldme.ShesaidshewantedLuketobetakencareof,andshewantedmeto

sortitout,”hesays,sighing.“I’vebeengivinghermoneyforLuke.Ididn’tknowhowtotellyou,Sabina.

Idon’twanttohurtyou.YoulovedBensomuch,andIknowhe’smycousin,buthewasn’tfuckingworthy

oftheloveandloyaltyyougavehim.Ididn’twanttohavethisconversation.Nowyouknowthetypeof

manyouwerereallymarriedto,andI’msofuckingsorry.”

“Youshouldhavetoldme”isallIsay.“Ben’snothereanymore,Dean.Ican’texactlydighimup

andkillhimagain.Hecheated.Weobviouslyweren’tashappyasIthoughtwewere.”

Andnow,afterknowingwhatIfeelforDean,Iunderstandthatawholelotbetter.Itwasn’tlike

thiswithBen.Iwasn’tashappy,theconnectionwasn’tasstrong,andthefeelingsweren’tasincredible.

Andafterseeingthekidwithmyowneyes....He’sjustakid.Hedidn’taskforthis.Ican’tregret

himcomingintotheworld;noonedeservestobethoughtoflikethat.

Ben’snothereanymore,butLukeis.

Itiswhatitis.

“Youtriedtohidethemfromme,Dean.IfIdidn’tcomeouttoseewhatwasgoingon,I’dnever

havefoundout,”Iexplain,lookingdownatmyhands.“Andwhat’sfuckedupthemostis,youdoingthat

hurtsmorethanwhatBenhasdone.Ben’smypast.He’sgone.Sure,ithurtsthathecheated,andobviously

wasn’tthemanIthoughthewas,butIcan’tchangeanythingwithBennow.You’rehere,andwe’re…

whateverweare,andyoupurposelytriedtomisleadme.HowamImeanttotrustyounow?Whatelseare

youhiding?”

“Nothing,”hegrowls,reachingoutforme,butthenretractinghishand.“Ishouldhavetoldyou,

okay?I’msorry.LasttimeIsawyou,youwereamess.YouwereheartbrokenoverlosingBen.There’sno

wayIcouldhavetoldyouthen.Andthenayearpassed,whichbringsustonow.Iwantedtotellyou,I

did,butyou’reblindwhenitcomestoBen,andnowhe’snotevenhere!It’sahardsubject,don’tyou

think?Iwouldhavebeenscrewedeitherway,fortellingyouorfornot.Andtobehonest,Ididn’twant

youtothinkIwastryingtotellyouabouthimbeingunfaithfuljustbecauseIwantedyou.Ididn’tplanon

seeingSamandLukeatyourfuckingdoor,soyeah,Ifreakedoutandjustwantedthemawayfromhere.I

didn’twantyoutoseeBen’sfuckingmistressandhiskidatyourfrontdoor,askingformoneyfromme.I

didn’thandleitwell,butI’monlyhuman,Sabina.”

Hismistress?Iguessitwasn’taone-timethingthen.Wow,thatactuallydoeshurt.HowcouldIbe

sowrongaboutapersonIknewforsolong?Ismyjudgementsooff?

WhatifI’mwrongaboutDeantoo?

Fuck.

Idon’tknowwhattothink.

Idon’tdeserveanyofthis.

IwasonlyeverfaithfultoBen,andhehadafuckingmistress.Whydidn’thejustendthingswith

me?Iwouldhavepreferredthat.ThenIcouldhavemovedonandfoundsomeonewhoactually

appreciatesme.Arealman—whowouldbehonest.HowdidBenlookmeintheeyeeverydayandact

likehehadn’tdoneanythingwrong?Howdidhesleepsowellatnight?Howdidhetellmeofffor

spendingtoomuchonshoppingwhenhewasgivingmoneytohisotherfamily?

AndnowwhyisDeanpayingforBen’smistakes?

Fuck.

Honestyissoimportantthough.It’severything.Idon’trespectpeoplewholie.Deanneverlied,he

omitted.AndhetriedtohideSamandLukefromme.Igetthathemusthavepanicked,butheshouldhave

toldmeaboutthisalongtimeago.Maybenotstraightafterthefuneral,buthecouldhavepickedupthe

phoneandtoldmeaboutitduringtheyear.I’mnotabadperson.Idon’twishBen’skidanythingbut

happiness,andIhavenoproblemwithmoneygoingtothekid.Hell,hecantakeBen’slifeinsurance

money.Idon’twantit.Ihaven’tevenspentacentofit.Lukecanputitawayforcollegeandacar,

whateverhewants.Healreadyhasnofather,andheshouldn’thavetopayanymorejustbecauseBenisa

fuckingpieceofshit.

ThishasruinedDean’slastnighthere,becauserightnow,Ijustwanttobealone.

ChapterNineteen

Ifallasleeponthecouch,thenwakeupwhenIfeelDeancarryingmetobed.Idon’targuewhen

hejoinsme,Ijustfeeltired.Emotionallyexhausted.Whenhewrapsmeinhisarms,Istillfeelsafe,butI

alsofeelsad.He’sleavinginthemorning,andthere’ssomuchupintheairbetweenus.Thenagain,some

timeapartwillgivemetimetothinkandgetusedtothiswholesituation.Tothereality.Benwasn’twhoI

thoughthewas,butthatdoesn’tmeanDeanisn’t,right?

He’sstillDean.

MyDean.

Ijustdon’ttrustmyselformyjudgementanymore.

Everythinghasbeenfake,andeveryoneknewexceptme.ThereIwas,turningdowneveryman

thatlookedatmeevenafterBen’sdeathbecauseIstillfeltloyaltohimandIwasn’treadytomoveon

fromhim,yethe’dbeenfuckingaroundduringourmarriage,andnowDeaniscleaningitup,handing

moneyovertothiswoman.Nowondershecouldn’tlookatme.IfIwasamistressIwouldn’tbeableto

lookatthewifeofthemanIwaswitheither.Idon’tknowhowshejustifiesitinherhead,butthenagain

sheowednoloyaltytome.Bendid.Andhedidn’tgivemethat.IfIcouldturntheclockback,I’dgoback

tothefirstmomentImetDean.I’daskhimtotakemehome,insteadofwaitingforBen.ButIcan’tchange

anythingandthere’snopointhavingregrets.Itwon’thelpmycurrentsituation.Ijustneedtodealwithit.

I’mastrongwoman.Thisisn’tgoingtobreakme.

Nothingwill.

WhileeveryoneknewaboutthisandIdidn’t,Icanstillwalkaroundwithmyheadheldhigh.Ican

beproudofthepersonIam,becauseIdidn’thurtanyone,andIdidn’tbetrayanyone.I’vedonenothing

wrong.

Everyoneelsecangotohell.

IclosemyeyesandhopethatIfallasleepsoon,justsoIcangetridofthesethoughtsinmyhead,

evenifit’sjustforafewhours.

Peace.

Ijustwantpeace.

*****

Everythinglooksbetterinthemorning.Ihaveaheadache,butIleteverythinggo,pushingBen,

Sam,andLukeoutofmymind.IconcentrateonDeaninstead.He’sleavinginanhour.Wedidn’tmake

lovethismorning,butwedidcuddle.He’snowfinishingpacking,whileI’msittingonthebed,wondering

whattosaytohim.IfeellikeIhavenoideawhat’sgoingonbetweenus,andinthislastweekwe’ve

grownsoclose.Ireallyjustdon’tknow.

“Areyouokay?”heasksme,restinghishandonmynape.

“Yeah,”Isay,forcingasmile.IknowifIdon’tsaybyetohimproperlyIwillregretit.There’sno

pointlashingoutatDean.Hehidsomethingfromme,andI’vetoldhimithurtme.I’mgoingtoleaveitat

that.Idon’twanthimtoleavewithusangry.Youneverknowwhenthelasttimeyou’llseesomeoneis,

andIwillneverleaveanyoneIcareaboutonbadterms.No,Iwantthemtoknowjusthowmuchthey

meantomeeverytime.

“CanImakeyousomethingtoeatbeforeweleave?”Iaskhim.Wehadalightbreakfast,butI’ma

littlehungryagainalready.

“I’mfine,babe,”hesays,cuppingmycheek.“Areyouhungry?Wecangetsomethingontheway,

ifyouwant.”

“I’mgood,”Itellhim.I’llgrabsomethingafterIdrophimattheairport.IfIhaven’tlostmy

appetitebythen.

Ihatethis.

Ihatethatwewentfrombeingsoeasyaroundeachothertothis.Idon’tknowwhattosay,orhow

toact.I’mstillupsetthatheliedtomeandIcan’tpretendthatI’mnot,buthe’sflyinghometoday.Idon’t

wanttofightanymore.Butthingscan’tbeexactlyhowtheywerebeforetheknockonmyfrontdoor.

“Comehere,”hesays,pullingmetostandupandpressingmeagainsthishardchest.“Ifucking

hatethis,Sabina.Whydon’tyoucomewithme?I’llbuyyouaticketrightnow.Canyoutakeoffanother

weekortwo?”

Hewaitsforthelastminutetoaskmethis?“Ican’t.Mymanagerismyfriendbutevenshe’snot

justgoingtogivemeanotherweekoff.”

Imean,Icouldaskandthere’sasmallchanceitwillbefine,butdoIreallywanttogowithhim

rightnow?Ihaven’tpackedoranything.It’stoolate.Idon’tknow.“MaybeIcancometoyouinacouple

ofweeks?”

Hebreathesasighofrelief,likehedidn’tknowifhe’dbeseeingmeagainorsomething.

“Promiseme,”hesays,liftingmychinup.

“I’llpromisethatI’lltrytogetworkoff,”Isay,nodding.“AndifIcanthenyeah,I’llcometoyou.

It’slongoverdue,apparently.”

“Yes,itis,”hesays,kissingmeonce.“Ihopeyoucanforgivemefornottellingyou.Idon’twant

youtostartignoringmeassoonasIleave,Sabina.BecauseI’llbeonthenextflighthome,fucking

appearancesornot.”

“Iwon’tignoreyou,”Itellhim,andIwon’t.Ifhedidthattome,IknowhowmuchI’dhateit.

Relationshipsaren’teasy,butlongdistance?Youneedtohavecommunicationorthereisnopoint.

“Goodgirl,”hesays,andthistimethekissweshareislong,deep,andslow.

Andsad.

It’sgoingtosucknothavinghimherewithme,butIknowthetimealonetoclearmyheadwilldo

megood.Also,ifworkcooperates,hopefullyI’llbevisitinghimathishousesoonforthefirsttime.We

cantalkmoreabouteverythingthen,oronthephoneinthemeantime.

“I’mgoingtomissyou,eventhoughyou’reajerk,”Isay.

“YoureallythinkI’majerk?”

“No,”Igrumble.Buthedidwhathedid,sohe’s…something.

Amanwhomadeamistake?

Maybethat.

“Good,”hesays,kissingthetopofmyhead.“Fuck,Idon’twanttoleaveyou,especiallynotnow.

IfIdidn’thavethisappearance,I’dstayhere.Ifyoucan’tcometome,I’llcomebackhereinaweekor

so,wheneverI’mfree,okay?”

Fuck,he’ssweet.Andsodamncute.

“Okay,”Isay,feelingmoreupbeat.Eitherway,we’llbeseeingeachothersoon.Thisisn’tlike

lasttime;we’renotgoingtoletmuchtimepassbeforewe’rebacktogether.Thisisn’tgoodbye,justI’ll

seeyousoon.

Weendupmakingout,andwhenitturnshotandheavy,Iwonderwhythehellwewastedsomuch

timethismorningbeingangryandsadandallofthoseotherannoyingemotionswhenwecouldhavebeen

doingthis.

“Dowehavetime?”Iaskhimashestartstoliftmydressup.

“Idon’tgiveafuck,”hesays,pushingmebackonthebed,pullingdownmypantiesandgoing

downonme.

“OhmyGod,”Igroan,threadingmyfingersthroughhishairandliftingmyhipsupintohisface.

I’mgoingtomisshismouth.

Hislips.

Him.

“Dean,Iwantyouinsideme,”Isaybreathily,needingtofeelhimbeforehegoes.Heundoeshis

jeans,pullsthemdown,andtakeshisperfectcockout,hardandreadylikeitalwaysis,andslidesinside

ofmeinonesmooththrust.Eyesstayingconnectedwithmine,hethrustsinandoutofme,fastanddeep,

analmostdesperateairaboutit.He’sgoingtobeinadifferentcountry.Itfuckingsucks.Lipsonmine,

hipsdipping,thistimeweclimaxtogether.

“Iloveyou,Sabina,”hewhisperstome,kissingmesoftly,asweetkissthatcoincideswithhis

words.

“Dean—”

“Don’tsayanything,”hesays,shuttingmeupwithhismouth.“Idon’twantyoutosayanything,I

justwantedyoutoknowthatthat’showIfeelaboutyou.Iloveyou.IthinkIalwayshaveinsomewayor

form,andIwantit.Iwantus.I’mnotgoingtodoanythingtofuckthisup.”

Idon’tknowwhattosay,soIjustkisshimagain,tellinghimwithoutthewordshowIfeelabout

him.

There’ssomethinghere,somethingworthit.

It’srare,it’spure.

AndDeanwon’tbefightingtokeepitalone.

ChapterTwenty

“Whatdoyoudoifthere’spaparazziintheairport?”Iaskhimaswegetclose.

“Iusuallyhavesecuritywalkmethrough,”hesays,rubbingthestubbleonhischeek.“Butitjust

attractsmoreattention.I’lljustwalkthroughquickly.It’sasmalltown;IdoubtI’llhaveanydrama.I

didn’tlasttime.”

“I’mcominginwithyou,”Isay.

Iguesswecandothatwholesadairportgoodbyepart.

“Doyouwanttotalkaboutanything?”heasksme,glancingatmequicklybeforeturningbackto

theroad.“Idon’twantyoutofeellikewe’renotokay,youknow?That’sgoingtodrivemeinsanewhile

I’mbackathome.

Ifthere’sanythingyouwanttotalkabout,let’shaveitoutnow.”

“Idon’tthinkthere’sanythingelsetosay,”Isay,shrugging.“Youkeptsomethinghugefromme,

Dean,andI’mhurtandupsetaboutit.YouknowhowIfeel.I’mgoingtotakethistimealonetoclearmy

headandtrytosortmyfeelingsout.”

“Ifuckedup,I’llbethefirsttoadmitit,”hesays,handfindingmythigh.“Ihandleditall…

terribly,andthat’sanunderstatement.Ishouldhavetoldyou.I’msorry.Please,don’tthinkI’mkeeping

anythingelsefromyou,orthatI’mnotanhonestpersonbecausethat’snotthecase.I’llneverdotoyou

whathedid.I’dneverbetrayyouinanyway.I’mnothim.You’reeverythingI’vealwayswanted,andI’ll

neverhurtyouintentionally.Itkillsmethatyou’rehurt,whichIknewwasinevitable.IguessIwasjust

holdingoffonthepain,infuckingdenial,thinkingthatnoneofthisstuffwouldevertouchyou.Iwas

stupid.”

“Yes,youwere,”Iadmit,liftingmychinup.Ithensoftenmytoneandsay,“Idon’twantyouto

leavewithusangrywitheachothereither.Sono,I’mnothappyaboutit,butwe’reokayandwecan

discussthisfurtheranothertime.”

Sometimespeopleleaveanddon’tcomeback.Accidentshappen.There’snochanceinhellI’m

lettinguspartonbadterms.

“You’retheonewhoisangry,”hesays,histonelight.“Notme.Soyouhavetostopbeingangry.”

Irollmyeyesathim.“Don’tlieoromitorconcealshitfrommeagain,Dean.”

“Iwon’t,”hesays,squeezingmythigh.“I’llletyouknowaboutanyotherillegitimatekidsstraight

away.”

Islapathisarm.“Toosoontojoke,buddy.Waytoosoon.”

“Sorry,”hesays,butIdon’tmisshisliptwitching.

Heturnstomeandseesmyunimpressedexpression.“Iloveyou,Sabina.”

“Yougoingtousethattogetyououtofthingseverytimeyou’readouche?”Iask,themood

betweenuschangingtolightandplayful.

“Ifitworks,”hesays.“Andyoudon’tthinkI’madouche,babe.YouthinkI’mamazing.”

Ishakemyhead.“Ego,much?”

Weparkthecar,butbeforeImovetogetoutheleansovertokissme.“Youhavenoideahow

muchI’mgoingtojustmissbeingaroundyou.”

Iswallow.

Idoknow,becauseI’mgoingtomisshimtoo.

Wegetoutofthecar,hegrabshisbag,andwewalkinside.Hehashishatandsunglasseson,butI

knowhe’sgoingtohavetotakethemoffwhenwegetinside.WhenIcan’tgoinanyfurther,wecometoa

standstill.

“I’llseeyousoon,”hesays,asIgrabhimandholdontohimtightly.“AndI’llcallyouthesecond

Iland.”

“Okay,”Isayintohist-shirt.

Alingeringkiss,andthenhe’sgone.

*****

“Ican’tbelievethisshit,”Taramutters,lookinglikeshewantstopunchsomeone.Mostprobably

Ben.“Thatslimy,fakebastard.Akid?Really?Hehadthebestwomanintheworldathomeandhe’soff

fuckingsomeoneelse?Didheevenwantkids?”

“Notreally,”Isay,lookingintomymugofcoffee.“Imean,itwasonthetablebutneitherofus

wantedonestraightaway,especiallyhim.”

“Anddon’tgetmestartedonMr.DeanAmore,”shesays,flippingherhairback.“I’msosorry,

Bina.Ican’tbelievethishashappened.CanIsendDeananabusivemessage?I’dliketousemybest

friendprivileges,thankyou.”

“Abusivemessagenotneeded,”Isay,laughingatheranimatedexpressions.“I’mupsetthatBen

isn’twhoIthoughthewas.Imadehimsoundlikethebesthusband,buthewasn’t.Justbecausehe’sgoneI

shouldn’tlieorpretendhe’sanythinghewasn’t.AndDeanfuckedup.Ijusthopeitwasaone-time

mistake,andnotsomethinghe’lldoagain,sayingthathewastryingtoprotectmefromsomething.Give

metruthoverprotectionanyday.”

“SaidlikeatrueAquarius,”Taraadds,smirking.“Yeah,everyonereallyfuckedupwithyou.I’m

pissedoffforyou.AreyougoingtoconfrontKateaboutit?Shelikestoactlikeshe’ssomuchbetterthan

everyone,andherkidscan’tdowrong,butlookwhatBendid.Cheatingisn’thonourable,butthenhaving

akidandhidinghim?Totaldouchemove.”

“There’snopoint.Ifeelbadusingthekidasashamingtool;heisjustakidafterall,”Isay,

sighing.“I’dlovetogiveKateamouthfulbutI’mgoingtobethebetterpersonhere.Andshestillhasa

pieceofherson,agrandchild.Sheprobablyseesthisasablessing.Andlookingfromamother’spointof

view,maybeitis.”

“Notfromyourview,”Taramutters,puffingoutabreath.“Let’sgooutforadrinktonight.If

anyonedeservesone,it’syou.”

“Yeah,thatactuallysoundsgood,”Isay,offeringherasmile.“Gettingdressedup,wearingmake-

upandheelsanddancingallnightwithyouisdefinitelysomethingthatIneed.”

Taraheadshomeandsaysshe’llbebacklatertonight.IsendDeanaquickmessage,knowinghe

won’tgetituntilhelands.

Imissyoualready.Hopeyourflightwasn’ttoobad.

Althoughinfirstclass,Idon’tseehowitcanbe.

There’sahugetimedifferencefromheretoLAtoo,Ithinkit’saboutfifteenhoursorsomething,so

we’regoingtohavetoworkoutwhenwecantalk.It’sgoingtobeabitofamission,butdoable.

I’llmakesureit’sdoable.

*****

“Ilovethissong!”Isay,standingupandpullingTarabacktothedancefloor.I’monmysixthshot

oftequila,andI’mhavingagreatnight.We’vedancedandlaughedallnight,andthenightisstillyoung.

Weheadtothemiddleofthedancefloorandstarttomovetothemusic,ignoringeveryonearoundus.

“Isawthat,”Tarasays,laughing.

“Sawwhat?”Iask,swivellingmyhips.

“Youjustdidabellydancemove.”

“Well,whatelseamIgoingtoclassesforifnottoshowoffthemoves?”Iask,winkingather.

“Thisistrue,”shesays,doingabodyroll.“AlthoughIknewthatonebeforeclass.”

Webothlaughlikethat’sthemosthilariousthinganyonehaseversaid.Irealisewecanbequite

obnoxiouswhenwe’retogether,butIdon’treallycarebecausewealwayshavethebesttime.Everyone

needsabestfriendthatyoucanbeyourselfaround,asweirdasyoulike,andcansayanythingaround

withnojudgementinreturn.Ihaven’tbeenoutinsolong,itfeelsgoodtojustbefree,withnoworriesin

theworld.Iknowit’sonlyatemporaryfix,andI’llberegrettingittomorrowwhenI’mhung-overand

dying,butfucktomorrow.

Let’sliveforthemoment.

Taraturnsaroundanddancesonme,herassrubbingagainstme.Igrinatherraunchymovesand

continuetodanceinbeatwiththemusic.

Bythetimewegethomethesuniscomingup.

I’masleepbeforemyheadevenhitsthepillows.

ChapterTwentyOne

Iwakeupwiththemotherofallheadaches,andadrymouth.Ilooknexttomeonmybed,where

Taraispassedout,snoring,andwishIcouldsleepinlikeher.Grabbingmyphone,whichdiedduringthe

night,Iputitonchargeandheadtothebathroomtopeeandbrushmyteeth.WhenI’mdone,Iturnmy

phoneon,wonderingifDeantriedtocall.WhenIseethesevenmissedcalls,Icringe.Hewasprobably

worried,orthinkingthatIwentbackonmywordanddecidedtoignorehim.

Fuck.

Ipressonhisnameandbringthephonetomyear.Idon’tevenknowwhattimeitisthere,butI

knowit’snight-time.Ifhe’sasleepatleasthe’llseethemissedcall.

Heanswersonthethirdring.

“Sabina?”hesayssleepily.

“Hey,”Isay,speakingquickly.“SorryIdidn’tpickupanyofyourcallslastnight.”

He’squietforasecond.“Iseverythingokay?”

“Yeah,IjustwentoutwithTaraandmyphonedied,”Isay,lyingbackonthebed.“Howwasyour

flight?”

Ihearhimexhale,asifinrelief.“Itwasn’ttoobad.Imissyouthough.Iwantyouinmybedfor

once.”

Ismile.“Hopefullysoon.”

“WhattroubledidyouandTaragetupto?”

“Wewentoutdancing,”Isay,yawning.“Anddrinking.She’sherewithme,fastasleep.”

“Yougotdrunk?”heasks,soundingalittleconcerned.

“Yeah,”Isay,rubbingmyhead.“Justneededtoletlooseabit.”

“Sabina—”

“I’mfine,Dean.Youdon’thavetoworryaboutme.”

Hegoesquietforafewseconds.“I’veonlyeverwantedyou.”

Iswallow.“Iknow,Dean.”

“SoI’mgoingtoworry.Andyou’regoingtohavetohandleit.”

Isigh,butwithasmileplayingonmylips.“Icanhandleanythingyouthrowmyway.”Ipause.

“Withconditions,ofcourse.”

Deanchuckles.“Lotsoffineprint,Ibet.”

“Nowthatyoumentionit,”Isay,grinning.“Imissyou.”

“Imissyoutoo.Whenyoudidn’tpickupIthoughtthatmaybeyou’dchangedyourmind.”

“Never,”Isay.

Ihearthesmileinhistonewhenhesays,“Good.I’mgoingtotrytogetsomesleepbutIwillcall

youinthemorning.”

“Okay,goodnight.”

“’Night,babe.”

WehangupandthenIheadintothekitchentomakeTaraandmethegreasiestbreakfastever.

*****

Thenextdayismyfirstdaybackatwork,andhowbadisitthatIalreadywanttoaskfortimeoff

again?Sure,Leahismyfriend,butfirstandforemostshe’smymanager.Iwaituntiltheendoftheday

beforeIaskher.Shesaysshe’llletmeknow,butshedoesn’tlooktooimpressedwithme,andfairlyso.I

leaveworkanddrivestraighthome.Idecideonahotbathwithagreenglitterbathbomb,andallIdois

thinkaboutBen.Whatelsedidhehidefromme?Howmanyotheraffairs?Whydidhedothistome?Why

proposeatall?Idon’tunderstandhim.Iclearlydidn’tmakehimhappyenough.Weweren’tamatch.We

weren’tmeanttobetogether.IjustwishIcouldhaveonefinalconversationwithhimtotryandgetsome

closure,butobviouslyI’mgoingtohavetoforgivehimandmoveonwithoutanyofthat.Thingshappen

forareason.Idon’tknowwhythishappened,butnowIneedtoletitgo.IneedtoletBengo,andthe

thoughtofushavingaperfectfirstlove.Wedidn’t.Itwasn’taperfectlyimperfectloveeither.Itwasa

fakelove.Butit’stimetolookforwardandnotbackward.

MyfutureisDean;atleastIthinkheis.Andifhe’snot,that’sokaytoo.I’llbefineeitherway.I’m

strong.Idohopethingsworkwithhimthough,becauseIknowI’llnevermeetsomeoneelselikehim.I

lovethewayheseesme.Ilovehowhemakesmefeel.Iloveeverythingabouthim.AndIthinkIdeserve

tobehappynow.Iclosemyeyes,andplaymy“sleepysong”playlist,whichisfilledwithballadsand

lovesongs.

IreallyhopeIgetthistimeoff.Idon’tthinkI’llfullyunderstandandknowDeanuntilIseehis

world.IneedtoseeifIcanfitinthere,becausewhatI’mpicturingissodifferenttowhatit’slikewhen

hevisitsme.

Iwonderwhathe’sdoingrightnow.

*****

WhenKateshowsupatmydoor,Iwishitwasanyoneelse,eventhegrimreaper.

“Sabina,”shesays,noseintheair.“Weneedtotalk.”

Iopenmydoorforhertoenter.“CanIgetyouacoffeeorsomethingtodrink?”

“No,I’mfine,”shesays,sittingdownonthecouchandlookingaround.“Ican’tbelieveyousold

thelovelyhouseBenworkedsohardtogiveyouandmovedintothis.Itlookslikeabachelorpad.Isthat

thetypeoflifestyleyou’relivingthesedays?”

Well,hersonwaslivingitwhileweweremarried,sowhythehellnot?

Iclearmythroatandsitdownwithher.“Whatdoyouwanttodiscuss?”

“Luke,ofcourse,”shesays,smiling.“HelooksjustlikeBendidasachild.Iheardthatyoumet

him?”

Iblinkslowly.Idon’tknowwhatshewantsfromme,butI’mnotgoingtoreact.Shedoesn’t

deservemyemotionsrightnow.

“Yes,he’sacutekid,”Iagree.“Andyes,helooksalotlikeBen.”

Shestudiesme,asifwonderingwhyI’mnotyellingorscreamingorsomething.“Well,I’mglad

you’reokaywithit.Youknewyourmarriagewashavingissues,andpoorBenhadtogolookelsewhere

forlove.”

Igritmyteeth,butstaysilent.Iactuallycan’tbelievethenerveofthiswoman.Shecangoharass

Sam’slifenow.“Wellifthat’sall,”Isay,tryingtoforceasmileandfailing.“I’mabouttoheadtothe

gym.”

Killthemwithkindness.

Somepeoplearejustsostupidthatyoucan’targuewiththem.

“Oh,okay,”shesays,notlookingsatisfiedwithourexchange,whichsatisfiesme.“Maybeyoucan

comefordinnerthenexttimeSamandLukeareover.”

Ican’tmakethisshitup.

“Maybe,”Isay,standingupandhopingthatshetakesthehint.

“It’sashamethatDeanleft,”shesniffs,alsostanding.“He’ssuchagoodboy.Sentmoneyfor

Luke;sincehisfatherisn’theretoprovide,he’ssteppingin.”

“Heisagoodman,”Iagree.Idon’tbothertotellherthatI’mgoingtogiveLukeBen’sinsurance

money.I’lltellDeanthat,andgethimtohandleit.Katewouldprobablytakeitforherdamnself.

“Anyway,nicetalkingtoyou,”Ilie.

“Don’tbeastranger,youarestillfamily,Sabina.Maybeifyougrowyourhairlongeragainyou

canfindaniceboyfriend.Menlikelonghair.Rememberthat.”

Iwavebyeandallbutclosethedooronher.

Menlikelonghair?

Itakedeepbreaths,tryingtocalmmyselfdown.

Worstmother-in-lawwhoisn’tevenmymother-in-lawanymoreever.

*****

WhenLeahtellsmeIcanhaveanotherweekoff,butitwon’tbepaidleave,Idecidetotakeit

anyway.MaybeIshouldgoandsurpriseDean?Ibegintoformulateaplanandlookupticketprices.

WhenIfindagooddeal,Ibookit.LookslikeI’mgoingtoLA.Infourdays.Shit.Itakemysuitcaseout

fromundermybedandopenitup,thenIstarttopulloutmyclothes,choosingwhateverIthinkI’llneed.I

packallthenecessities,plusafewsexieroutfits.Boots,sneakers,heels,andflatsgetthrowninthere,and

thenIwonderifthat’stoomanyshoesforjustaweek.Iwanttocoverallbasesthough.Ilookinthe

mirrorandsmile,excitementfillingmeatthethoughtofseeingDeanagainsosoon.Isendhimamessage

askingforhisaddressbecauseIwanttosendhimsomething,hopingthathedoesn’tsuspectanything,then

continuegettingreadyforthisspontaneoustrip.

Foronceit’smegoingtosurprisehim.

AndIhopehelovesit.

ChapterTwentyTwo

WhenthecabstopsatDean’shouse.Ihavetodoadoubletake.It’shuge.ImeanIknewitwould

be,butit’safuckingmansion.I’veneverevenbeeninsideahouselikethisbefore.

“Ummm,”Imumble,payingthedriver,whogetsoutandhelpsmetakemysuitcase.“Thankyou,”I

tellhim,givinghimatip.HedrivesawayandIdragmysuitcaseuptothefrontdoor.Luckilythegiant

gatesoutthefrontwereopen,althoughifIwerehimIwouldn’tleavethemlikethat.Whatifsomeofhis

fansdecidetopayhimavisit?Iknockonhisfrontdoor,butthere’snoanswer.Icallhisphone,andlucky

formehepicksupstraightaway.

“Babe?”

“Hey,”Isay,smiling.“Whereareyourightnow?”

“I’matthestudio.Why?Iseverythingokay?”

DoIjusttellhimthatI’mhere?Somuchforasurprise.

“Yeah,”Isay,draggingouttheword.

“Whatisit?”hesays,soundingconcerned.Ihearhimtellsomeone,“Givemeaminute.”

“Dean—”

“Yousoundweird,what’sgoingon?Ican’tfixitifyoudon’ttellmewhatitis.”

“Ummm.”Itakeadeepbreathanddecidetojusttellhim.“I’minfrontofyourhouse.Surprise.”

He’squietforamoment.“Babe,ifthisisajoke,it’snotcute.”

“I’mhere,Dean.Yourhouseiscreamandblack,andtherearetwocarsoutthefront.”

“Fuck,”Ihearhimwhisper.“Babe,holyshit!Iwouldhavecomeandpickedyouupfromthe

airport.”Icanhearthesmileinhisvoice.“I’monmywayhomenow.Don’tmove,Sabina.”

Ilookaround.I’mnotmovinganywhere.IsitdownonmysuitcaseafterIleanitagainstthewall,

andlistenonthephoneasIhearDeangettingintohiscar.Heputsmeonspeakerphone.

“Ican’tfuckingbelieveyou’rehere.Todayisthebestdayever.”

“Iwantedtosurpriseyoubutthatwasafail.”

“Areyoukiddingme?Iamsurprised!”hesays,soundingexcited.

“Canyouevenjustleavethestudiolikethat?”

“Well,thisisanemergency,sotheywillbefinewithit.”

Intwentyminutes,Iseeacarpullup.

It’shim.

Ipushoffthewallandwalktowardshim,laughingashegetsoutofthecarandliterallyrunsto

me.Hepicksmeupintheair,thenletsmybodyrubagainsthisashelowersmeuntilourlipsareoneach

other’s.HecarriesmeinhisarmsandIwrapmylegsaroundhimashewalkstothedoorandunlocksit

withhiskey.

“Mysuitcase,”Iremindhimwhenhe’sabouttopassthethreshold.

Heputsmedown,grabsmysuitcase,putsitinside,andthenclosesthefrontdoor.Ilookaround

hishouse,andit’sbeautiful.I’veneverseenanythinglikeit.It’sallopen,withglassdoors.

“Notimeforthat,babe,I’llgiveyouatourlater,”hesays,pickingmeupagainandwalkingupthe

stairswithme.

“Whydoyouleaveyourgateopen?Isn’tthatunsafe?”

“Iusuallydon’t,”heexplains.“ButI’mgladIdidoryou’dhavebeenwaitingatthegateinsteadof

thedoor.”

Heopensthedoortohisroom,andIeyethehuge-assbedinthemiddle.“Havemanyorgies?”I

blurtout,thencringe,makinghimlaugh.

“Notrecently.Why,didyouwanttohaveone?”

Iscowl.

Helaysmebackandsays,“I’veneverevenfuckedanyoneonthisbed,Sabina.AndI’venever

hadanorgy,butthanksforthinkingthataboutme.”

“Thebedcanfitlikeeightpeopleatleast.”

“Don’tactlikeyoudon’tlikebigthings,”hefiresback,makingmyjawdrop.

“Goodone,”Iadmit.

Mustgivecreditwhenit’sdue.

Hestartslaughing,andcontinuestodosowhileheundressesme.

“Iwanttohaveashower,”Itellhim.“I’vebeentravellingforalmostawholeday.Idon’tsmell

good.”

“Yousmellgoodtome,”hesays,eyingmynownakednesswithheatinhiseyes.

“Shower,”Idemand.

“Okay,”heagrees,takingmyhandandleadingmetohisbathroom.

“Wow”isallIcansaywhenIseeit.Ahugeshower,spabath,andmirrorseverywhere.“Thisis

stunning.”

“Yes,Iagree,”hesays,butwhenIlookathimIfindhiseyesonme.

“Dean,”Isay,smiling.

Asifunabletohelphimself,hetastesmylips,pullsaway,andturnstheshoweron.Igoinfirst,

groaningatthefeelofthehotwateronmyskin.Hisshowerhastheperfectpressuretoo.I’mabouttotell

himsowhenhejumpsintotheshowerwithme,hisfrontpressedagainstmyback.Hishandscupmy

breasts,feelingtheminhishandswhilehislipsstarttokissdownmyneck.

“Dean—”

“Iwantyousobadlyrightnow,Sabina.Seeingyouhere....Youhavenoideawhatitmeansto

me.”

Iturnaroundandwrapmyarmsaroundhisneck,andheliftsmeupandpushesmybackagainstthe

coldtiles.Mouthsconnected,hishandslidesbetweenusandhestartstoplaywithme,makingsureI’m

niceandwetforhim.Icanfeelhishardcockpressedagainstmyskin,morethanreadytoslideinsideof

me.WhenDeanfeelshowwetIam,hetakeshiscockandslowlystartstopushinside.

“Yes,”Iwhisperagainsthislips.

Ithasn’tevenbeenthatlongsincethelasttimeweweretogether,maybeaweek,butitfeelslike

forever.Mybodymisseshim.Hepumpsinandoutofmewhilekissingmylips,neck,andjawline.Iscore

mynailsdownhisbackasIfeelmyorgasmapproaching,bitingdowngentlyonhisbottomlip.

“I’mgoingtocome,”Isay,closingmyeyes.

“Openyoureyes,Sabina,”hewhispers,soIopenthemandlookathim,myheadrestingback

againstthetiles,waterdrippingdowneveryinchofme.Herunshisthumbalongthecolumnofmythroat,

pressinggentlyasIbegintocome,mythighsquakingasI’mlostinthemomentofpleasure.Whenthelast

wavehaspassed,Deanslidesoutofme,spinsmearoundsomycheekispressedagainstthewall,and

slidesbackintomefrombehind.Istickmyassoutforhim,givinghimbetteraccess,moaningashefucks

meslowanddeep,takinghistimenow.Whenhecomeshesaysmynameandburieshisfaceinmyneck,

kissingmetheresweetly.

Heeventuallypullsoutofme,andhewashesmybodyandmyhairwithhisboyshampoo,the

processsensualandoneI’veneverexperiencedbefore.I’dneverthinktoaskaguytowashmyhair,butit

seemsIreallylikeit.

“Thatfeelssogood,”Itellhimonasigh.

Icanhearhimsmileashesays,“Icantell.”

Wegetoutoftheshower.DeanbringsmysuitcaseupwhileIdrymyselfandmyhair,andIunlock

itandpulloutmynightclothesbeforegettingintohisgiantbed.

Hesmirkswhenheseesme.“Youlooksosmallonmybed.”

“That’sbecauseit’sfuckingmassive,”Isay,buryingmyfaceinthepillow.“Icouldsleepfora

year.”

“Jetlag,babe,”hesays.“Youmustbeexhausted.CanIgetyousomethingtoeatordrink?Fuck,I

shouldhavefedyoubeforeIfuckedyou,butIjusthadtohaveyou.Imissedyousomuch,andseeingyou

showuphere….Youhavenoidea,Sabina.”

Hesoundsalittleworried.

“Iwantedyoutoo,Dean.Andyes,I’dlovesomewater.I’mnothungrynow,butIknowIwillbe

whenIwakeupfromthiscomaofanapI’mabouttofallinto.”

“Okay,I’llgetyousomewater.Andwhateveryouwanttoeat,I’llgetitforyou.Mychefishere

fordinner.Iusuallyfendformyselfforbreakfastandlunch,butifyou’rehereImighttellhimtostayall

day.”

“Icancookusfood,Dean,”Isay,yawning.“Andsocanyou.Wedon’tneeda24/7chef.”

“You’reonholiday,”hesays.“Idon’twantyoutohavetoliftafinger.”

“Youcookanddoeverythingwhenyouvisitme,”Ipointout.“Nodoublestandards.Besides,I

likedoingit,andwhatelseamIgoingtodo?It’snotlikeI’mworkingoranything,sodon’tbe

ridiculous.”

“I’mgoingtobetakingyouhere,there,andeverywhere,”hesays,frowning.Iglanceupathimand

justtakehimin,standinghereinnothingbutawhitetowel,wrappedlowonhiships.Hishairisdamp

andmessy,afewwaterdropletsstillonhischestandabs.IfIwasn’tsotired,I’dlickthemthentracehis

six-pack.ButIam,soI’mjustgoingtoadmiretheview.HissleevetattoogiveshimanedgeIlike,andI

reallycan’tdescribeabetterbody,eveninmydreams.He’ssomethingelse.

Andhe’sallmine.

“Wewon’thavetimetoworryaboutdoingallthatshit,”hecontinues.

Iyawn.“Babe,comecuddle.Wecanargueaboutthislater,okay?AfterI’vesleptandI’mfeeling

fierier.”

Helaughsatthatandjoinsmeinbed,throwinghistowelonthefloor.“Ifinallyhaveyouinmy

bed.YouhavenoideahowlongI’vethoughtaboutthis.”

Ismileandrestmyheadonhischest.

It’snicetobeawayfromeverything.

It’sjustushere,inthisbighouse.

NoKatedroppingby.Nothingtoreallyworryabout,exceptapparentlywhetherornottohavea

chefonhandallday.Deanhasmadesuchanamazinglifeforhimself,andnowhewantstoshareitwith

me,whichIappreciate.IjusthopeIdon’tfeelweird,likethethoughtofhavingsomeonecookallmy

mealsmakesmefeel.I’musedtodoingthingsformyself.I’manindependentwoman.Idon’twanthimto

takethatawayfromme,butIknowhewantstospoilme,andthat’saverynicething.WheredoIdrawthe

line?

Idon’tknow.

“’Night,Dean,”Iwhisper.

“’Night,babe.”

Ifallintoadeepsleepwithinseconds.

ChapterTwentyThree

WhenIwakeupfeelingrestedandit’sstillnight-time,IknowI’vealreadymessedupmysleeping

schedule.Iforcemyselfbacktosleep,andthenexttimeIwakeupit’stoDeanplayinghisguitarand

singingsoftlytoanewsong.

“Morning,”Isay,gettingoutofbedandwalkingovertohim.

“Morning,”hesays,smilingandputtinghisguitardown.Hepullsmeontohislap,smilingupat

me.“Hungry?”

Inod.“Youdon’thavetostopplayingthough.Whatwasthatsong?”

“Youwanttohearit?”heasks,kissingmyforehead.

“OfcourseIdo.”

Ihopoffhislapandsitnexttohimashepickshisguitarbackupandstartstoplay.

Thissong.

Myeyeswidenashesingsthefirstverse,andIjustknowthatthissongisaboutme.

She’salwaysbeenmydream.

Mysecretsin.

Ifoughtwithmyself,butnowthewarisover.

Ifellinlovewiththeimpossible,Ihoperealityneversetsin.

Becauserightnow,inthismoment,nexttoher,Iwin.

Whenhefinishes,Iclearmythroat,feelingemotional.

“Dean--”

“Thewordshaveneverflowedsoeasily,”hesays,placingtheinstrumentbackdownandkissing

mylips.“Theysaymissingsomeoneisthebestthingforawriter,butIthinkthatnothingisbetterthan

beingwithyou.”

Idon’tknowwhattoreplywithtothat,becausenothingcanbeatthosewords,soIjustkisshim,

sinkingmybodyintohis.

Whenhepullsaway,hesmilesatme,andsays,“Comeon,let’sgoeat.”

Idon’tknowhowI’mmeanttoeatafterthat.Ijustwanttolistentohimplayoverandoveragain,

soakupeverymomentofit.

WeheaddownstairsandItakethetimetolookaroundhishouse.Itreallyisbeautiful.Whoever

decorateditdidanamazingjob.

“Iloveit,”Itellhim,staringatthepicturesonthewall.“Yourhomeisbeautiful,Dean.”

“Gladyouthinkso,”hesays,studyingme.

Wewalkhandinhandtothekitchen.Ashestartstomakebreakfast,Iwonderifhefeelslonelyin

thisbighouseallalonesometimes.Ormaybehe’shardlyhome,whoknows?Hedoesliveabusylife.

Maybehe’susuallynotherealone.Icringeatthatpart.Hesaidhe’sneverhadanyoneelseonhisbed

though,sothat’sprobablynotthecase,andI’mjustbeingalittleparanoid.Iknowhewon’tlietome,I

trusthim.Still,he’sknownforbeingquitetheladies’man.

“Howhaveyouhadnootherwomaninyourbed?”Iblurtout,unabletohelpmyself.“You’rea

goodman,Dean.Thebest.Butyou’renosaint.”

Heliftshisheadtolookatme,watchingmesilentlyforafewmoments.“Youwantthetruth?”

Iswallow,thennod.

Yes,alwaysthetruth.

“I’vedatedalotofwomenovertheyears,yes,”headmits,takingadeepbreath.“Icouldn’thave

you,Sabina.Anditkilledme.Ineededdistractions,andIwantedtomeetsomeonethatIcouldlove.

Someonethatcouldbemine.”

Itkillsmetohearthosewordsfromhim,butIdounderstand.

“Butyoudidn’t.”

Luckilyforme,Isuppose,butIdidn’twanthimtobeunhappythesepastfewyears.

“No,Ididn’t,”hesays,eyessoftening.“Nothingandnooneevercomparedtoyou.”

“Andnooneinyourbed?”Iprobefurther.Somethinghitsmethen,“Wait,hownewisthebed?”

Hethrowshisheadbackandlaughs,“It’saboutayearold.”

Istill.

Ayear?

“Hey,Dean?”

“Yes,Sabina,”hesays,watchingme.

“Doyoubelieveinfate?”Iask,usingthewordshesaidtomeonmyweddingday.

Hecupsmyfaceandrestshisforeheadagainstmine.“Yes,Ido.”

“Metoo,”Iwhisper,closingmyeyesashekissesme.

WebotheattheomeletteandtoastandthenDeanasksmewhatIwanttodotoday.

“HavealazymorningandthendrivearoundandseeLA?”Isuggest.

“Doyouwanttogooutfordinnerorsomething?”

“Soundsgood,”Isay,smiling.

Idon’tcarewhatwedo,aslongasI’mwithhim.

Heshowsmetherestofthehouse,andoutsidewherehehasabeautifulpoolanddeck,andthenI

haveaquickshowerandgetdressed.

ThenIhopbackintobed,makinghimlaugh.

*****

Thenextnight,Deantakesmetohisperformance.IwaitbackstagewhilehesingsonapopularTV

talkshow,thendoesalittleinterview.Whenthehostaskshimifhe’sdatingsomeone,hesays,“Iammost

definitelytaken.”

Mostdefinitely.

IsmileasIhearthosewords,evenasthecrowdallsaysacollectiveawwww.

Whenhe’sdone,hecomesstraighttomeandI’mbackinhisarms.“Whatdidyouthink?”

“Youwereamazing,”Isay,smilingathimproudly.

“It’ssodifferent.Itmakeseverythingmoreexciting,knowingIhaveyouherewithme,Sabina.It’s

likeeverythingfinallymakessense,allthepuzzlepiecesfitnow.”

Irestmyheadonhischestandclosemyeyes.“Thosewordsshouldgoinasong.”

Hechuckles,thenkissesthetopofmyhead.

HowamImeanttoleavehimagain?

Weheadbacktohishouse,wherethechefcooksusadeliciousdinner.Icanseewhyhekeepshim

around,hisfoodisamazing.

WhileDean’slifeissodifferenttomine,he’sstillthesameinanyenvironment,andIlikethat.

Eventhoughthisisn’tmylifestyle,Istillfeelcomfortablebecausehemakesmethatway.Idon’tthinkit

matterswhatsituationI’min,aslongasit’swithhim.

HeiswhereI’mmeanttobe.

Deanismyhome.

Whosaidhomehadtobeaplace?

*****

Afewdayslater,I’vedecidedthatIloveeverythingaboutLA.Afterseeingsights,exploringthe

city,andeatingoutatallthedifferentspots,Ineverwanttoleave.IreadabookonthecouchwhileDean

worksonhismusic;he’swritingdownlyricsandplayinghisguitar,anewsonginthemaking.Ican’thelp

butwatch,mesmerizedbytheprocess.

Heliftshisheadandgrinswhenhecatchesmewatching.“Pretendingtoread?”

“Ilikewatchingyouwhenyou’reinyourelement,”Isay,shruggingunapologetically.

Hesmilessoftlythenreturnstoplaying.

I’mabouttoreadthenextsentencewhenhesays,“Youshouldjuststayhere,Sabina.”

Myheadsnapstohim.“What?”

“There’snothingholdingyouback,youshouldjustmoveinwithmehere.I’llflyTaraheretovisit

youwheneveryouwant.You’llbesohappyhere.”

Hewantsmetomoveinwithhim?

Wouldn’tthatbetheultimategamble?I’dbeputtingallmytrust,hopes,anddreamsintosomething

thatissonew.I’vedonethatbefore,andlookhowthatturnedout.ButDeanisnothiscousin.

“Dean—”

“Don’tthinkaboutwhatyoushoulddo,justthinkaboutwhatyouwant,Sabina.Ifyoudon’twant

toworkyoudon’thaveto,ifyouwantto,andknowingyou,youwill,wecanfindyouanewjobdoing

whateveryouwantto.It’sonlyhardifwemakeit.Iwantyouhere.Idon’tthinkI’veeverbeenhappierin

mylifethanrightnow.Andfuck,Idon’twantyoutoleave.Iwanttocomehometoyoueveryday,and

wakeuptoyoueverymorning.”

Thelongdistancethingsucks,andIknowafterthiswearen’tgoingtobesolucky.Whoknows

whenwewillseeeachothernext?SeeingDeaninhishouse….Helovesithere.AndIcanseewhy.

“Idon’tknow,Dean,”Isay,lickingmylips.“Areyousurethisiswhatyouwant?Idon’twantto

rushthings.”

LikeIdidlasttime.

“Weliveindifferentcountries,”hesays,puttinghisguitardownandcomingtositnexttome.“I

loveyou.AndIwantyouwithme.Tome,it’sthatsimple.Willyouthinkaboutit?”

Inod.“Okay.”

“Goodgirl,”hewhispers,pressinghislipstomycheek.“Makemethehappiestmanalive,

Sabina.Comeon,itwillbeanadventure.”

Ismile.

Idoloveagoodadventure.

Thenextdayhowever,realityhitsme.“Ican’tjuststayhere,Dean.Ihavetogohomeandsortout

myhouse,myjob,mylife.”

Ican’tjustgosomewhereonaholidayforaweekandthennotreturn.That’sprettymuch

abandoningthelifeI’vecreatedformyself.ButwhatifthisiswhereI’mmeanttobe?Ican’tremember

beingsohappy.Willthathappinessfadethough?IsupposeIcouldalwaysgobackifitdid.I’llmissmy

bestfriendlikecrazythough.Willshemoveheretoo?Great,nowI’mdraggingherintomycraziness.

“Tarawillsortyourstuff;we’llputeverythinginstorageuntilwereturn.Messageyourbossand

tellheryouquit,”hesays,rubbinghisthumbovermyknuckles.

Quitmyjob?WhatwillIdohereforworkthough?I’msuretherearelotsofdifferentthingsI

coulddo,Icouldalwaystrytogetajobatabankhere.Butit’sjustsuchabigmove,suchabigchange.

“Ican’t,”Isay,shakingmyhead.

It’scrazy…isn’tit?

It’ssorisky.

Whatifitdoesn’tworkout?

Whatifitdoes?

Idon’twanttoalwayswonderwhatif,butthetruthisIalsodon’twanttobeoneofthosewomen

whojustchangesherlifeforaman.IwanttodothisbecauseIwantto,notbecausehewantsmeto,ifthat

makessense.

Iturnmyheadtolookathim.He’ssogoodtome.It’snotlikeI’veonlyjustmetthisman.Iknow

him.Iknowhismind,hisheart.I’dbestupidtoletwhatwehavego,basedonfearsthathavealottodo

withBen,andalsomewantingtoremainindependentandincontrol.

Itakeadeepbreathandclosemyeyes.IshouldprobablytellhimthetruthabouthowI’mfeeling.

“Iloveyou,Dean.”

Inasecond,he’srolledoverwithmeunderhim.“Whatdidyoujustsay?”

Iopenmyeyesandsmile.“IsaidthatIloveyou.”

Gazeslocked,wewaitlikethatinsilenceforafewmoments.“DoyouknowhowlongI’ve

waitedtohearthosewordsfromyourlips?”

Ishakemyhead.

“LongerthanI’deveradmit,”hesays,liptwitching.“Youknowwhatthismeans,right?”

“What?”

“Thatyou’restaying.”

That’snotwhatitmeansatall.ItmeansthatI’vefinallyadmittedtomyselfwhat’sbeenthetruth

allalong,andthat’sthatwebelongtogether.

Benmighthavebeenmyfirstlove,butDeanismyforeverlove.Hemademebelieveinlove

again,andthat’sanaccomplishmentinitself,becauseIdidn’tthinkitwaspossible,whenactuallyhewas

rightinfrontofmetheentiretime.

He’smyforever.

Still,Irollmyeyes.“I’mnotjustgoingtostayhere,Dean.”

There’snoway.

Epilogue

OneYearLater.

Istillhaven’tgonehome.

Tara’sbeenouttovisitmetwicesofar,andshebroughtmoreofmystuffwithher.I’msothankful

forher,Idon’tknowhowI’dhavepulledoffthislast-minutemovetoadifferentcountrywithouther.I

kepttellingmyselfI’djuststayforalittlebitmore,andIneverendedupleaving.Ididn’twantto.I

couldn’tmakemyself.AndeventuallyIacceptedthefactthatDeanwasright,thisiswhereI’mmeantto

be.Withhim.Hecouldn’tbehappier,andevenafterayear,neithercanI.

Stayingwastherightchoice.

ThebestIevermade.

Ifollowedmyheartinsteadofmyhead,anditledmerighttowhereIshouldbe.Ineverthought

I’dbesolucky.Istartedworkingatabankhere,butwhenpeoplefoundoutIwasdatingDean,andthey

turneduptotakephotosofme,Ihadtoquit.IstartedmyownaccountingbusinesswhereIdotaxand

financialadviceforhigh-profileclients.IknowIdon’thavetowork,butIwantto.Idon’twantamanto

takecareofme,nomatterhowmuchmoneyhehasinthebank.Mylifehaschangedalotthoughbecause

nowIhavetowearahatandsunglasseswhenIgoout,too.

Katewasn’thappyaboutDeanandmebeingtogether.Shedidaninterviewaboutit,andpretty

muchsaidhowawfulIaminit,butIdon’tcarewhatshethinks.Deannolongertalkstoher,butweboth

continuetosupportLuke.Isenthimthelifeinsurancemoney.Ihopeitsetshimup,eventhoughitdoesn’t

makeupfornothavinghisdadwithhim,atleastit’ssomethingthathismotherwon’thavetoworryabout

money.Speakingofmothers,Dean’sacceptedme,asdidtherestofhisfamily.Itfeelsgoodtohavesucha

wonderfulmother-in-lawthistimearound.

We’reoutsidebythepool,relaxinginthesun,whenIseeDeancomeupnexttome.WhenIopen

myeyes,he’sononeknee,adiamondringinhishand.

“Sabina,willyoumarryme?”

Isitup,myeyeswiderthanthey’veeverbeen.“Holyshit.”

“Isthatayes?”heasks,eyessoftonme.“Iloveyousomuch,IneverthoughtI’dfindalovelike

this.Spendtherestofyourlifewithme.”

JustwhenIthoughtIcouldn’tgetanyhappier.IrememberwonderingifIcouldhandleDean’s

lifestyle,withalltheattentionandthelackoffreedom,butitcomeswithhim,andit’sneverbeenanissue.

HegivesmeeverythingIneed,andIwouldn’tchangeanythingfortheworld.I’msoblessed,andIknow

it,thereisnothinginlifethatIcouldpossiblycomplainabout.

Somanypeopledon’tgettobewiththepersontheylove,formanydifferentreasons.Theywill

nevergettoexperiencethisfeeling;I’moneoftheluckyones.AndI’llneverforgetthat.

“Yes,”Isay,gettingemotionalandtearingupasheslidestheringonmyfinger.

Theringisstunning.Alittleoverthetop,butI’velearnttostopcomplainingandpointingthatout,

andjustacceptthefactthatDeanisaverygenerousman.Itmakeshimhappytobeabletospoilme.AndI

dothesametohiminreturn.

Thepear-shapeddiamondringfitsperfectly,justlikethetwoofusdo.

IfIhadtogiveanyoneadvice,I’dtellthemtobeopen.Takeachance.Loveisworthit.

Loveissoworthit.

ReleasingSeptember27

th

SEENOEVIL

Badboyshaveneverbeenmything.I’veseenfirsthandthekindofdevastationtheycancause.

That’swhyIgoforsafe.Predictable.GuyswhowilltakewhateverI’mwillingtogive.Thatway,I

alwayshavetheupperhand,ensuringthatmyheartremainsunscathed.

Thereisonlyoneproblem.Noneofthosemenhaveevermademyheartbeatfaster,ormademe

feeloutofcontrol.

Thatis,untilhim.

Ilivebyonerule.Treatothersthesamewaytheytreatme.So,ifSylartreatsmeasthoughI’mhis

world,doesitmatterthattechnicallyheisnotagoodman?He’sgoodtome.He’sgoodforme.

Atleastthat’swhatI’mgamblingon.

WiththeonethingIsworeI’dneverrisk.

Myheart.

ANDNOWFORASAMPLEOF:

DRAGON’S

LAIR

CHANTALFERNANDO

GALLERYBOOKS

©CHANTALFERNANDO

WINDDRAGONSMCSERIES

PROLOGUE

I

WALK

homefromschoolandstopinfrontofmyhouse,sitting

downonthelawn.Idon’twanttogoinside.Ilikeschooland

fifthgrade,andIwishIcouldstaythereallday.Everyoneelse

can’twaittogethome,butnotme.Mymotherisalwayscriticizing

me,tellingmewhat’swrongwithmeeverytimesheseesme.

Situpstraight,Faye.

Ninety-eightpercentisnotonehundredpercent.

Aladywouldneverdresslikethat.

IknowI’mnotperfect,butsheneverlikestopointout

whatI’mgoodat.

I’msmart—Igetgoodgrades,andmyteachersalwaystell

mehowwellI’mdoing.Ilovelearningnewthingseveryday.

BoystellmeI’mpretty,butmymotherdoesn’tevertellme

this.

“Whatyoudoingsittingoutherealone,Fairy?”

Ilookup,staringintothehandsomefaceofmyneighbor

Dex.Hesitsdownnexttomeandstaresattheskyinsilence.

“Didyougetlockedoutorsomething?”

Ishakemyhead.“No,justwantedalittlepeaceandquiet

beforeIgoinside.”

“Hmmm,”hesays,turningtolookatme,thenglancingat

myhouse.“You’dtellmeifyouwereinanytrouble,wouldn’t

you?”

Afewyearsolderthanmeandahellofalotcooler,Iliked

beingaroundDex.HewasthemostpopularboyIknewand

alwayslookedoutforme.HespoketomelikeIwashisequal,

notlikesomestupidkid.Heneverspokedowntomelike

mymotherdideither.Instead,hejokedwithme,teasedme

playfully,andtoldmethatIwassmartenoughtobeanything

Iwantedtobe.HesaidhewasjustnextdoorincaseIever

neededanything,orifIwaseverinanykindoftrouble.Iwas

alwayshappythatI’dbeenborninthishouse,becauseitwas

rightnexttohisandhe’dalwaysbeenapartofmylife.

“Yes,”Imumble.It’snotlikeIwasinanyrealtrouble.Ijust

neverfeltcomfortableathome,soIavoideditwhenIcould.

DexreachesintohispocketandpullsoutaSnickersbar.

“Halves?”

Inodmyheadandsmile.

Mymotherdoesn’tgivemechocolate,andDexknowsthat.

Healwaysshareshiswithme.

Mymouthwatersashebreaksthechocolatebarinhalfand

handsmethebiggestpiece.

“Thanks,”Isay,takingabigbite.

“Eric’splayingvideogamesathome,ifyouwanttogoand

hangwithhim,”hesays,standingup.

“Whereareyougoing?”Iaskhim,notwantinghimto

leave.

Helooksdownatmewithhispiecingblueeyesandgrins.

I’dalwayslikedhiseyes.Theyweresuchabeautifulcolorand

wereusuallysmiling.

Friendly.

Warm.

“I’mgoingtomeetsomeofmyfriends.”

Hepointstotheboyandtwogirlswalkingupthestreet.

“Eithergoinsideorgotomyhouse,butyoucan’tjustsithere

alone,it’snotsafe.”

Hisfriendscallouttohim.Hehadalotoffriends,I’dnoticed.

Alotofthemwerefemale.

Forsomereason,Ididn’tlikethat.Ididn’tliketosharehim.

IwastenandDexwasfifteen,sohedefinitelyledadifferent

lifethanIdid.Eventhoughhewasolder,healwayshadalittle

timeforme.Itmademefeelspecial.

“Seeyouaround,Fairy,”hesaystomewithagrinbeforehe

walksofftomeetthem.

Isighandstandup,slowlywalkingtomyfrontdoor.

WhenIgetthere,IturnaroundtoseeDexstandingonthe

street,staringatme.Hemotionsformetogoinside.Iknowhe

won’tleaveuntilIdo.Idon’tknowwhathethinksissodangerous

aboutsittingoutsidemyhouse,butIknowhe’sjusttrying

toprotectme.AssoonasI’minside,Iclosethedoorbehind

meandpeepthroughtheblinds.

Thesecondmydoorcloses,heturnsaround,puttinghis

armaroundoneofthegirls.

Inarrowmyeyesandturnaway.

DexterBlackdoesn’tknowityet,butonedayhe’sgoingto

bemine.

ONE

I

STARE

attheoldmotelinapprehension,takinginitsbrown

brickexterioranddirtywindows.

NottheHilton,that’sforsure.

Feelingsorryformyselfisaforeignconcept.Inormallyconsider

myselfastrongwoman.Ineedtobeone,withtheparents

IwasgivenandthecareerIwantinthefuture.Ihaveastrong

will,andI’mnotafraidtoopenmymouthandsaywhat’son

mymind.Idon’tmincewordsorbackdown.Ifindhumorin

awkwardsituationsandtrytomakethemostofmylife.

ButIguessthere’safirsttimeforeverything,becausehere

Iam,tailbetweenmylegs,feelingmorethansorryformyself.

Kindofpathetic,really.

I’dhavethoughtsixtydollarswouldhavegottenmeabetter

roomthanthis,butIwaswrong.

Ithasbeenknowntohappen.

Icheckinatreception,payingforonenightandtryingnot

tostareatthemoldonthewall.Thebored-lookinggirlatthe

counterhandsmemykey,thenIdragmyfeettomyroom,

takingonebagwithme.Insidearemytoiletries,clothes,anda

fewvaluables—includingmypurse,passport,andfood.

Unlockingthedoor,Iwalkinandcheckouttheroom.A

smallbathroom,acouch,abed,afridge,andaTV.Eh,itcould

beworse.Iputmybagonthecouchandtakeoffmysandals.

Placingthemneatlyinthecorner,Ipulloutaplasticcontainer

andopenthelid.

Reachinginside,Idecideonapieceofapple.AsImunch

onthecutfruitIcontemplatemylife.Ihavefivethousanddollars

saved,agrowingbelly,andnocluewhatthehellI’mgoing

todo.Myentirelife,I’dhadaplan.Ialwaysknewexactlywhat

Iwasgoingtodo,andhowIwasgoingtodoit.Butnow?Ihad

noplan.Itwasascarythought,especiallyunderthecircumstances.

OnethingIknowforsureisthatIneedtokeepmoving.

Onenighthere,andthenI’mgoingtokeepondriving.I

wanttogetasfarawayfrommyoldlifeaspossible.Thatshit

doesnotneedtocatchupwithme.

Itakealongshower,thentakemytimerubbingmoisturizer

intomyskin.Ihavecherry-blossomlotionthatIuseeveryday

withoutfail,andtonightisnoexception.Itgivesmealittle

comfort,alittlesenseofnormalcy.Ibrushmyteeth,combmy

wavyauburnhair,andclimbintobed.WishingIhadbrought

myownsheets,Iignorethemustysmellandfallasleep.

Thisismylifenow,andIcan’taffordtocomplain.

Literally.

AnothernightpassesandthenI’mbackontheroad,heading

farthernorth.Iactuallyenjoythedrive;it’snicebeingaway

fromthecity.Beforeitgetsdark,Icheckintoanothersketchy

motelandallbutcollapseontothebed.Drivingatnightisn’t

safe—thereareanimalsthatcrosstheroads.Afteragood

night’srest,Ispendthenextdaylookingforajob—applying

anywhereandeverywhere.I’mnotfussy;I’lldojustaboutanything

rightnow.Beggarscan’tbechoosers.I’dneverhadtouse

thatsayingbeforeinmylife,comingfromafairlywealthyfamily.

Butjustbecausemyparentshadmoneydidn’tmeanwe

werehappy.Farfromit,actually.Aquietknockatthedoor

makesmegroan.I’djustgottencomfortable.Iforcemyselfto

getup,expectinghousekeeping.Iopenthedoorslightly,just

enoughtoseewhoitisthroughthechainlock.

Myjawdrops,andpanicinstantlysetsin.

Definitelynothousekeeping.

Unlesstheydecidedtohireahot-as-hell,angrybiker.

“Openit,orIwill,”hedemands,hiseyesblazing.Iconsider

myoptionsforafewsecondsbeforeIslideopenthelock.He

couldjustbreakdownthedoorifhewantedto,sotherereally

isnopoint.Iopenitandtakeafewstepsbackasheenters.

Crystal-blueeyesnarrowonme.Amuscleticksinhisjaw

ashisgazerakesoverme,checkingtomakesureI’mokay.He’s

wearingworn,rippedjeansandalong-sleeveblackT-shirtthat

accentuateshismuscularbuild.Helooksgood;healwaysdid

though.

“Justintheneighborhood?”Iask,hopefillingmyvoice.

“Whatthefuck,Faye?”herasps,grippingthedoorframe.

Itakeanotherstepback.Idon’tknowwhathe’scapableof

rightnow.TheoldDexwouldrathercutoffhisarmthanhurt

me,butdoIreallyknowhimnow?Idon’tevenknowhowthe

hellhefoundme.

Doesheknow?Ofcoursehedoes.

NothinggetsbyDexterBlack.

Hebangsthedoorbehindhim,thenoisemakingmeflinch.

“Packupyourshit,”hedemands,eyessearchingthecrappy

motelroom,whichisnowlookingconsiderablysmallerwith

hishulkingpresence.“We’releaving.”Hedoesn’tlookhappy

withwhathesees.Infact,hisscowldeepens.Hecrosseshis

armsoverhisbroadchestandstaresmedown,waitingforme

tomove.

“I’mnotgoinganywhere,”Isay,puttingmyhandsonmy

hipsandglaringathim.He’snotthebossofme.Yes,he’sa

badass,

sexymanwithwhomIhadonenightofhot,passionate

sex,butthatdoesn’tmeanhegetstotellmewhattodo.Imight

havelikedhimbossyinbed,butthisrighthereisadifferent

story.

Hetakesadeepbreath,asifcalminghimself.“I’vebeen

lookingforyoufortwodays.I’mtryingnottolosemyfuckin’

temperhere,Faye,butyou’repushingme.Idon’tthinkI’ve

everbeenthispatientinmyfuckin’life.”

Thisishimpatient?

“I’mnotgoinganywhere,”Ireply,liftingmychinup.“And

youcan’tmakeme.”

Westareateachother,thetensionbuilding.

Icanactuallyfeelthemomentbeforehesnaps.

Hisfistsclench,andthetightnessinhisjawlooksalmost

painful.

Istepbackintotheframeoftheopenbathroomdoorashe

losesit.

HepicksuptheTVandthrowsitintothewall.Thecrashing

soundmakesmejump,buthedoesn’tstopthere.He

punchesthewallseveraltimes,thenslidesthefewglassesoff

thetableinonesmoothmovement.

Morecrashing.

Theregoesmydeposit.

Heturnsandpointshisfingerrightatme.

Igulp.

Myeyeswidenashegrabsmybagandstartspackinganything

ofminehecomesacross.Iwalkuptohimandtrytograb

itawayfromhim,butonedeathlylookhasmeretractingmy

hand.

“Tempertantrumover?”Iask,tryingtokeepmyvoice

steady.

Helooksdownatmybarefeet,thenatalltheglassscattered

onthecarpetfloor.“Don’tmove.”

IdoasI’mtoldashebringsmeapairofmyshoes.Islide

themonandlookupathim.

Whydoeshewantmetogowithhim?Whatgoodcancome

fromit?WhatIneedtodoismoveonwithmylifeandsettle

downsomewherequietandsafe.Somewherewithoutsex-ona-

stickbikersandtheirdouche-lordcheatingbrothers.Somewhere

wheremyparentsaren’taround,andIcanbemyself.

“Ijustwanttobeleftalone,Dex,”Isay,tearsforminginmy

eyes.I’mtired,sofuckingtired.Mylifeisn’tmeanttobelike

this,andIhatethefactthathe’sseeingmethisvulnerable.

Ihateit.

I’mnotthisweak—notusually.

Andhe’sthelastpersonI’dwanttoseemelikethis.He’s

strong.Nothingtoucheshim.Ihavenoideahowhewould

handlemeifIbrokedownrightnow,whichI’mseriouslyclose

todoing.

“No,youthoughtrunningwasgoingtosolveyourproblems.

Youthoughtlyingwasgoingtosolveyourproblems.

You’reluckymydipshitbrothermentionedthatyouleft,and

thatyouwerepregnant,orIwouldn’tevenknowIwasgoingto

haveafuckin’kid!”heyells,losinghiscomposure.

TalkaboutkickingmewhenI’mdown.

“Ireallydon’tneedyourshitrightnow,”Imutter,looking

downatthefloor,feelingliketheworstpersonintheworld.

Becausehe’sright,Iprobablywouldn’thavetoldhim.Ican’t

saywhatIwouldhavedone.

“Youwouldhavegoneon,wouldn’tyou?Yourwholelife

withouttellingme,”hesaysindisbelief.“Don’tyouthinkI

deservedtohaveheardthisfromyou?”

Ithinkaboutlying,butintheendIdon’t.Ideservehis

judgmentoverthis.“Doyoureallythinkyoucouldgivethis

kidagoodlife?”

Wrongthingtosay,butIneededtosayitbecausethatwas

myrationalizationforleavingwithoutaword.Hiseyesturn

coldandhard.“Iguessyou’regoingtofindoutnow,aren’tyou?”

“Howdoyouknowthiskidisevenyours?”Iask,liftingmy

chinup.WhyamIpokingthedragon?Ihavenoidea.

“Iknowbecausethecondombrokethatnight,andyou

hadn’thadsexwithEricinawhile,”hesays,staringstraightat

me.“Oranyoneelse.”

“Thecondombroke?”Igape,myeyesflaring.

Well,thatexplainsthingsdoesn’tit?

Andwhoishe?Thesexpolice?Ihadn’thadsexwithanyone

else,buthowdidheknowthat?

Hewatchesmeunderhislashesbutignoresmycomment.

“Grabyourshit,Faye.Youhavefiveminutesorweleave

withoutit,”hesays,sittingdownonthebed.Igritmyteeth

butdoashesays,takingmyfewbelongingsandpackingthem

backinmybagwithefficientease.

“I’mready,”Isay,avoidingeyecontact.Hetakesthebag

frommeandhikesitonhisshoulder,thenholdsthedooropen.

Iwalkoutandwaitforhimtoleadmetohiscar.Hewalks

downtowardtheparkinglot,andIfollow,afewstepsbehind.

“Whataboutmycar?Ithassomeofmystuffinit,”Iask

him.

“Rakewilldriveithome,”hesaysasheopensthedoortoa

blackfour-wheeldrive.Hegripsmyhipsandliftsmeuponto

theseat.Mybreathhitchesatthecontactandflashesofour

nighttogetherentermymind.

Himbracedabovemeashegrindsintome,sweatdripping

downhisbody.

Meonallfoursinfrontofhim,hisfingersdiggingintomyhips

ashethrusts.

“Faye,”hesays,snappingmeoutofit.

“Huh?”

“Whatwereyoujustthinkingabout?”heasks,hisvoicea

lowrumble.

“Oh,nothing,”Imutterembarrassmentcoloringmy

cheeks.

“I’llbet.IsaidRakewillhandleyourcar,sodon’tworry

aboutit.”

“Rake?”Iask,mybrowsfurrowinginconfusion.Iwatchas

Dexliftshisheadtowardthesideofthebuilding.Ifollowhis

lineofsightandseeamanleaningagainstthewall,smokinga

cigarette.HewalksoverandstandsnexttoDex.

“Sothisiswhatthefussisallabout,”themannamedRake

says,checkingmeoutandnotbeingsubtleaboutit.

“I’mRake,”hesays,grinningatme.He’sagood-looking

man.Blondhair,curlingaroundhisface,greeneyes,anda

panty-droppingsmile.Hehasalipringandaneyebrowring—

bothsuithimperfectly.

“Faye,”Isay,managingasmallsmile.

“Ihavetodriveyourcarhome,”hesays.“Youoweme,

Faye.”Anothergrin,andthenhe’soff.

DexsendsRakealookIcan’tdecipher,thenturnstome.

“Youokay?”heasks,scanningmyface.Hisexpressionsoftens

ashelooksoverme.

“Yeah.Thanksforasking,”Itellhim,clearingmythroat.

Hegruntsinreply,closingthedoorandheadingtotheother

side.Whenhepullsoutoftheparkinglot,heturnstome.

“Youknow,Ithoughtyouwereoneofthegoodones.I

neverthoughtyouwoulddosomethinglikethis,tryingto

keepmeinthedarkaboutmyownkid.”

Withthatpartingshot,whichIfeeldeepinmybones,he

drivesmebackhome.

BacktotheplaceI’mtryingtoescape.

Backtowheremychildwillhavenofuture.

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