No. I wasn’t thinking about that. Not this morning.
“I’m going back to bed,” Erica said as soon as Lila was gone.Her shoulders slumped, and the toll the treatment and the cancer had taken on her was written in every exhausted line of her body.
“Eat something before I get back from work tonight,” I commanded. “You just pushed your pancakes around the plate. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”
She smiled. “Love ya, Cal.”
“Try to choose something with at least one vitamin in it,” I grumbled.
My sister chuckled, but it was far from the bright, gut-busting laughter that used to come out of her before she got sick.
She was worried she’d die.Iwas worried she’d die.
If she did…I’d be responsible for that little girl. Her life, her safety, her future—it would all rest on my shoulders. I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t worthy, wasn’t good enough. I’d already failed once, and I wouldn’t give myself the chance to fail again. If it came to the worst, I’d go against Erica’s wishes and find a more suitable guardian for Lila.
Except I wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Who else would make sure she was taken care of? Who else would do it right?
I went to work with my head full of messy, ugly thoughts. All day I felt jittery, on edge, and agitated. I barked at my staff and torched a relationship with a potential client, but no matter how much of an ass I was, it didn’t fix the way I felt. By the time the sun went down, my frustration with myself reached a peak.
There was only one person who would give me what I needed, who could scratch the incessant itch inside me that begged me for a fight. I picked up my phone and found Deena’s number.
SIX
DEENA
My fingers slidalong the stem of the wine glass as my date told me all about his new podcast.
“It’s just going to be really conversational, you know? A bit of sports, a bit of humor. You’d love it.”
How he knew that,I had no idea; he hadn’t asked me a single question about myself. “I’m sure I would,” I answered with a forced smile, wondering how angry he’d get if I left before our entrees arrived. I already knew there wouldn’t be a second date.
But maybe I wasn’t giving him a chance. Maybe I was doing what I always did, which was put walls up around myself as soon as a guy showed the least bit of interest. Maybe I was self-sabotaging.
I took another swallow of wine and continued to carry the full weight of the conversation: “So, um, what kind of microphones do you guys use?”
“Oh, great question, Diana?—”
“It’s Deena.”
“Isn’t that what I said?” He shook his head with a frown,huffing. “Anyway, we got these mics online, but you know, you can’t just buy a cheap USB mic, right, you have to have crisp audio if anyone’s going to listen…”
He leaned in to talk at me, and I regretted my question. I didn’t care about a single word that left his mouth. I nodded and smiled, sipped my wine, and heard nothing.
There was something wrong with me. He was nice. He was good-looking. Yes, he wasn’t the best at conversation, but?—
“So you want to go to your place or mine after this?”
Clearly, I’d missed critical parts of this dialogue. I blinked at him. “Sorry?”
“After we eat. You’re down to fuck, right? I mean, this dinner’s gonna cost, like, two hundred bucks. I’m paying, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Outrage was a burn down the back of my throat. Who did this guy think he was? He thought just because he paid for dinner, I’d spread my legs for him? He didn’t even know myname. We had nothing in common. I wasn’t even attracted to him, but I’d agreed because…because…
Because of Callum freaking Frost! Because every time he called or texted or made demands, the restless feeling inside me grew. Because my fingers and toys could only take me so far, and I needed the weight of a man on top of me to get me over that last, ever-so-sharp edge.
But not this man. He hadn’t eventried.
I thought all I needed was a rough, casual screw to get that infernal man out of my system. I thought any cock would do. I’d been wrong. Coming on this date had been a mistake. My fingers tightened on the stem of my wine glass, and I wondered if it would feel as satisfying as it looked in the movies to throw it right in his face.
