I snickered. “The only part of me you could call virginal, that’s for sure.”
Our rolls came, and we both demolished them, Keston giving me his extra ginger and pointing his chopsticks at me.
“You eating all the wasabi?”
I scooped up a dollop of wasabi and plopped it on his plate.
“Here you go, hot stuff.”
When the bill came, I scooped it up. “My treat. I invited you.”
He shrugged. “Thanks.”
Once outside in the cool air, he took my elbow. “My place is this way.”
Here goes nothing.
“I’d better get home. I’ve got a court appearance in the morning. But maybe we can get together again? Like over the weekend?”
In high school, I’d never been in the popular crowd. I hadn’t been invited to hang out on the weekends at the mall, go to the movies, or play video games, and I wouldn’t have had the money for any of it anyway. Now, at thirty-nine, I was reliving my teenage era of insecurity. I might have the ability to do what I wanted, but I still yearned for the right person to do it with. Being with Keston brought me right back to those days of wondering if I’d ever find someone who’d want me.
And apparently, I’d startled Keston with my question. He’d been certain I was a sure thing, and that convinced me I’d made the right decision.
“I work both days.”
Buoyed by the fact that he hadn’t blown me off, I jumped to answer. “I do too. But maybe after? You can decide what we do, if you want.”
“I’ll let you know.”
Not exactly what I’d hoped to hear, but I was determined to stand up for myself and not be so easy.
“All right. Well, have a great night. I’m going to call for a car.”
His gaze was unreadable. “Night.”
He took off down the block, and I waited for my ride. It was an uneventful trip to my place, and once I got home, I brushed my teeth and got into bed. Dr. Sharpe would be proud, and it might be a good thing to be strong, but that wasn’t going to be of much comfort in the middle of the night when I reached out for someone. I was still alone.
The week plodded along, and I had my head in my work, but not my heart.
“Jerk,” I muttered that Friday evening. I sat on my couch and my phone, again, remained frustratingly silent. Each night, I scrolled through dating apps, but no one caught my eye enough to make a connection. Not like I’d had with Keston, although given his silence, it was all one-sided. Dr. Sharpe was right. I was nothing more than a vessel for Keston to have sex with. A willing, eager participant. So, so eager that the hot shame of embarrassment flushed through me, and I tossed my phone aside.
My buzzer rang, but I ignored it. It rang again and again. Annoyed, I stomped over to the intercom.
“Who is this? Stop ringing my bell.”
“It’s Keston. Wanna go for a ride?”
Chapter Five
Keston
I had a need for speed that night. To escape the walls closing in on me.
Along with the apartment, Carlos had left me his Harley. And though I rarely took it out, there I was, zipping up FDR Drive, then across town to Bailey’s apartment. I’d had a shitty week, and seeing Bailey would put me in a better mood.
It didn’t look like he was of the same mindset, though, as he slowly walked down the steps of the brownstone to meet me on the sidewalk.
“A motorcycle?” He eyed it with suspicion. “What do you expect me to do with that?”
