Trust

“That sucks.”

“Yeah,” I agreed sadly. “Having her put it all out there, making my private stuff public, it wasn’t a good feeling. People were already talking about me, saying all this weird shit about the robbery. One conspiracy theory idiot was convinced I was in on it with Chris. That I was his real girlfriend or something. It was all such bullshit. When they didn’t have any real information to report on, they just made things up.”

Hang’s lips were pinched, her gaze a mix of anger and sorrow.

“That kind of attention, it’s not a good thing. There’s nothing fun about it,” I said, fingers curling into fists. “It’s like there’s this spotlight on you and there’s no escaping it. You’re not a person to them; they don’t care about what you think or how you feel. The only thing that matters to them is getting what they want out of you.”

Nope. I didn’t sound bitter and twisted at all. Not even a little.

I shrugged. “Anyway, it’s pretty much over now. Moving on.”

“And John went through that too.”

“Yeah.”

“No wonder you two bonded. I mean that in a nonsexual way.”

I nodded. Fluffing up a denim-colored cushion, I placed it into the correct cubbyhole-style shelf for our rainbow scheme.

“Sleeping with him was probably a mistake,” I admitted, reaching for the next blue pillow. “I need him as a friend. He’s the only one who gets what it was like that night. And afterward.”

“Sex can make things tricky.”

“I’m seeing this now.”

“Okay,” she said. “Obviously, we need to invent a time machine. Go back to that night, and have you sleep with Duncan instead.”

And lose all of those lovely memories of John’s skin against mine. What a horrible thought. Also, Duncan did nothing for me. Not in comparison to John.

“Or not?” she asked tentatively.

“Honestly, I’ve always had a bit of a crush on John. But now my pelvic region wants to do bad things with him all the time. I’m doomed.” My shoulders drooped. Then I pulled them straight back up. “No. Things will return to normal. It’ll just take some time. If I can avoid him for a while, all will be well.”

“That’s why you ran off to have your lunch outside recently,” she groaned. “I was worried we’d insulted you somehow or something.”

“No. I was hiding like a coward,” I admitted. “I do that sometimes.”

Slowly, she nodded. “Okay. Well, you’re a strange one, Miss Millen. And I mean that with great affection.”

“Why, thank you.” I beamed. “I think you’re quite odd yourself.”

“But back to the problem at hand. Sure, you could keep avoiding him.” Her gaze, it didn’t fill me with confidence. “It might work.”

“Absolutely it will work. He’s always got so much going on, I bet he won’t even notice if I drop out of sight for a while. I mean, I have to think positively. After all, we only bumped hips once.” I held up a finger. “Just the once. You could almost say it was an accident.”

“Yeeeaah. No,” she said. “I’m not buying that. You’ve just lost all credibility there.”

“Fine. But plenty of people have sex and it’s nothing more than recreational. It means nothing to them, zip, nada, zero,” I said. “It’s just horizontal cardio with no clothes on. An orgasm or two and they’re good to go, hitting the road.”

“Some people, yeah.”

I puffed out a breath. “Well, that could be me.”

Hang said nothing. A whole lot of it.

“It could be.”

“Maybe.” She grimaced. “But, if it was you, in this case, wouldn’t we not be having this conversation?”

I snapped my mouth shut. Turned away from my new female best friend and thought deep thoughts. Or at least tried to. Obviously, the validation I required would have to be found elsewhere. And while it was comforting that apparently Hang wouldn’t be lying to me anytime soon, still . . .

“Get away from me with your logic,” I pouted.

She held up a cushion. “Sky, arctic, or cornflower?”

“Pale-ish light blue?” My brows rose in question. “I don’t know. Let’s just do this damn thing.”

“Right on.” Carefully, she arranged it on a shelf. “So I shouldn’t tell you about the field party Anders said is happening tonight?”

“No. Best not to.”

She looked up at me from beneath her lashes. “Do you mind if I go? I mean, it’s just . . . you know how Anders gets. The idiot will be texting me every other minute if I don’t make an appearance. For some reason he’s decided I’m fun to have around.”

“Absolutely, you should go. I’m sorry to be such a loser and bailing on you. It’s just going to take me a while before I can go near John without imagining him with no pants on. I need to stay away from him,” I said with great conviction. “At least for a little while.”

With a big sigh, she nodded. “Honestly, Edie, that might be for the best.”





With another attempt at the book in the new fantasy series, a pint of chocolate-chip cookie dough ice cream, and the starry sky overhead, I had my own Saturday-night party for one. It was perfect. Mom had said she was going out with some friends from work, but I don’t know. Something was going on with her. Something that, I’m pretty sure, caused hickeys. At any rate, I had the house to myself. Ah, silence, peace, and serenity. I’d forgotten how good being in your own sacred space could be.

I wasn’t missing John at all. And I was absolutely not imagining that the hero in the book resembled him, because that would be wrong and directly contrary to what I was trying to achieve. Though it did sort of help with my focus issues.

“Hey.”

I screeched, heart hammering inside my chest. A familiar size-and-shaped shadow stood outside my open window.

“John,” I said, breathing just a wee bit quickly. Honestly, you’d think I’d be getting used to his sudden appearances by now. “Holy shit.”

“Saw your bedroom light on, figured I’d just come around.”

“Of course you did.” I set aside my book, shuffling over to the far side of my bed as he climbed up to sit on my window ledge. “Thought you’d be at the field party.”

“Could say the same of you.”

Guilt hit me hard. “First day of work, I was kind of tired. You know. Had a bit of a headache from all of the stupid scented candles.”

Head cocked, he nodded. Blue jeans and white shirt, his hair tied back into a ponytail. The cut of his cheekbones cast stark shadows on his face.

“Yeah, it was big, real busy,” I said, blathering on. “You know, napkin rings and cushions and stuff. Lots of necessary household items.”

“Right.”

I smiled.

He didn’t. “Want to tell me why you’ve been avoiding me, Edie?”

“I haven—”

“Don’t!”

I stopped. The tone of his voice didn’t encourage debate. And yet. “John, I get that you’re upset. But if you raise your voice at me again I’ll push you out the fucking window. Understood?”

For a second his eyelids squeezed shut, searching for control or something. “Sorry. But I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t lie to me, Edie.”

“Okay.” I took a deep breath. “All right.”