Halfway through the second week, I take a job at the local diner, partly as a distraction to stop me thinking about him, and partly to get me out of the house so I won’t have to listen to my parents argue.
By the end of the third week, I’m in full-blown withdrawal. Irritable. Intolerant. Needing a fix of someone who’s on the other side of the country and pissed at everything and everyone that’s not him.
I guess he misses me, too, because on my way home from work at the beginning of the fourth week, I receive a text.
<Hey. Elissa just dragged me along to see Wicked on Broadway. Ashamed to say I enjoyed it. Be right back, handing in my man card. Hope your summer is less lame.> And just like that, I’m high. Embarrassingly so. I do a little dance and skip up the stairs to the house.
Mom and Dad stop bickering long enough to welcome me home, and I head straight up to my room.
<Elissa dragged you, huh? Don’t lie. Always suspected you’re a closet music theater fan.> A minute later, I receive a reply.
<Yes, you’ve discovered my dark secret. When I’m alone I put on the Funny Girl soundtrack & do my best Babs impersonation. Forever ashamed.> I laugh before catching myself. Dammit. Not good.
I miss having sex with him, that’s all. Not the way he brushes my hand when he passes in the hallway. Not the affectionate glances he gives me when he knows no one else is watching. Not the way he regularly drags me into stairwells, or bathrooms, or shadowy corners of the costume storeroom just so he can kiss me.
It’s just the sex I miss.
I close my eyes and try to calm my racing pulse as I resist the urge to text him again.
Admitting you have a problem is the first step.
I admit nothing.
I don’t miss him.
I don’t.
“For crying out loud, Cassie, I’m going to start calling you Charcoal.”
Exasperation is leaking into Ruby’s tone, and even over the phone, I can imagine her eye roll.
“What? Why?”
“Because you’re playing with so much fire, you’re going to be incinerated.”
We’ve been on the phone for more than an hour. She’s told me all about a guy she met over the summer, and after she assailed me with far too many details of their sexual exploits, she started grilling me about Holt. To say she disapproves of our arrangement would be a massive understatement.
After Ethan and I started hooking up, I tried to keep it a secret from her, but everything went south a few weeks later when she came home unexpectedly to find us naked in the living room. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ruby so angry. She stood there and ripped into both of us. Didn’t even let us get dressed, just stood there yelling while Holt and I did our best to cover ourselves with throw pillows.
After that, she didn’t talk to me for two days. She was mad about me getting back with Ethan, of course, but I think she was even madder that I lied about it. Ever since then, I’ve vowed never to keep stuff from her, which kind of sucks, because when she asks me if I’m having feelings for him again, I have to tell her the truth.
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
She makes a disapproving sound.
“What am I supposed to do, Ruby? Cut off all contact?”
“I’m not saying that. I’m just saying to be careful. If you can’t handle being straight up fuck-buddies, then maybe you should cool it for a while. I mean, he hasn’t magically lost all his baggage, has he?”
“No, but he’s the one who started texting me. I’m not making any moves here. I’m just reacting to his.”
“That’s going to be exactly zero consolation if he gets scared again and bails.”
“I know. But he seems … different. Bolder. Happier. I don’t know.”
“Yeah, well, I suppose I can’t complain too much. You have been a lot less mopey since you started banging him. Although, you owe me money for all the condoms you’ve stolen.”
“I’ll pay you back. Plus, I’m on the pill now.”
“Really? So you two can bang bareback? Great. Can’t wait to walk in on that.”
“I’ve apologized for that a million times.”
“Doesn’t erase the mental images.”
“We weren’t even having sex.”
“You were about to. By the way, did I ever congratulate you on Holt’s cock? I meant to. Very nice. One of the nicest I’ve seen, in fact.”
Despite my newfound sexual confidence, I still manage to blush. “Well, with the sheer volume of cocks you’ve seen, that’s a huge compliment.”
“It sure is. Huuuge.”
We both laugh. I miss her so freaking much.
Unfortunately, I still miss Ethan more.
It’s Friday night, and the diner is packed. I’m getting slammed from every side, and although I like to think I can handle it, I’m getting more frazzled by the minute.
“Order up!”
I swipe hair away from my forehead and hurry to collect the plates from the pass. Back and forth. Smile and drop.
“There you go. Enjoy.”