But… I don’t know if that’s enough.
My phone buzzes in my hand and I look down.
Geoff: Hey, you awake?
Cat: Yep. What’s up?
A throat is cleared across the room and I glance up to see Myles, sitting back against my pillows. “Morning.”
“Morning,” I murmur, trying to ignore the little spark of pleasure I feel.
“Why are you up?”
I shrug. “I woke early.”
“Well, why are you lurking all the way over there?” He sends me an amused look, but I can sense he’s feeling apprehensive. He’s not the only one.
“Oh, you know.” I try to laugh but it comes out kind of strangled. “I’m just… doing my thing.”
“What thing?”
“That thing where I freak out after we have sex.”
“Right.” The amusement in his eyes flickers out. “And is that all last night was to you? Sex?”
I fiddle with my phone, saying nothing. I need more time to figure this out. I don’t want to talk about it now—to pick it apart—because I’m not sure how to hold myself together at the same time.
I glance down as my phone vibrates with Geoff’s reply.
Geoff: I think things are over with Daniel :(
Oh. Poor Geoff, I hate to think of him hurt. Sometimes he’s too trusting for his own good.
Cat: That sucks. What happened?
As I send off my reply, I feel a cold trickle down my spine. Even Geoff, who was so sure that things were “different” with Daniel, is getting hurt. What chance does someone like me—with no sense of anything—have of getting out of this unscathed?
I look at Myles with a grimace. “Maybe you should go.” I stand and reach for his shirt, throwing it across the room to him. But when he doesn’t move and his forehead wrinkles with hurt, there’s a pang in my heart.
I drop onto the bed beside him, taking his hand. “I’m sorry. I just… don’t know how to handle this. But I want you to know, last night was the best night I’ve had in a really long time.”
“Yeah?”
I nod.
A smile quirks the corner of his mouth and he leans in to kiss me. But I turn my head, so his kiss lands by my ear. When he leans back, his brow is knitted in question.
“I…” I suck in a shaky breath. “I don’t know.”
He sighs. “Please don’t do this again.”
“Do what again?”
“You’re pushing me away. You did this last time we had sex.”
I’m quiet, mulling this over. He’s right, I did—I ran out of his place as fast as my legs could carry me, then went on a date with someone else. I cringe at the memory.
“Why are you doing this?”
