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  Flint.

  He hasn’t called or texted me even once since he left three weeks ago. It’s been me calling or texting him. Does he know I’m touching myself thinking of him?

  “Thank you for calling 1-800 TOUCH ME. How can I make your fantasies come true tonight?”

  Nothing.

  I hold my phone out. We’re still connected.

  “Sorry, I must have the wrong number. But since I do, can we think of it as a happy mistake and proceed with you fulfilling my fantasies?”

  I grin. “I hate being your mistake, but I’ll deal with it if you think of me as a happy mistake.”

  “You’re in a good mood.”

  I hum. “Me time. Bath time.”

  “Fuck me … why did you have to tell me that?”

  I giggle. “Sorry. I’m not wet, naked, and touching myself thinking of a certain man in a suit. I’m covered in dog vomit and a long day’s worth of sweat and grime. Better?”

  “Where are you touching yourself?” he asks in a husky voice.

  I bite my lips together and blow out a slow breath. This is torture. “To what do I owe the honor of you calling me?”

  “Between those sexy legs of yours?”

  I squeeze said sexy legs together. “Maybe.”

  “Jesus Christ, Elle …”

  A heavy pulse grows between my legs, just from his voice. He sounds a little pained and a lot turned on.

  “I miss you,” I murmur because no matter how much thoughts of Flint turn me on, I can’t ignore my heart.

  “Yeah …” he says with weak defeat.

  “Yeah.” I mock, blowing out a short breath of disbelief. “Good to know we both know I miss you.” My heart starts the familiar ache that I’ve tried to ignore since he left.

  “What do you want me to say?”

  My eyes roll to the ceiling, tears trying to fight their way to the surface. “Nothing. Why did you call?”

  “Missing you won’t change anything.”

  But it would mean everything.

  “Why did you call?”

  “I just wanted to see how your dad’s doing? And I wanted to make sure you don’t need anything?”

  “He’s doing. One day at a time, he’s doing. As for me, I haven’t had much time to think of my needs. I suppose feeling needed is enough. My dad needs me. Feeling missed is pretty fucking special too, but one out of two ain’t bad.”

  “Elle …”

  “Don’t. It’s fine. I get it.” I clear my throat. “Lori and Forrest are going to help out with my dad so I can take the train to Minneapolis next week. It’s a day-and-a-half trip. I need to talk with the hospital and figure out what I want to do long term with my clients. Then I’ll drive my car and my babies back here by Thanksgiving.”

  “So it’s official? You’re moving?”

  “Yes. I refuse to put him into a care facility. He could make a full recovery, but it’s going to take months … maybe even years. He’s my dad…” my voice cracks “…he’s all I have.”

  “Let me know when your train arrives. I’ll arrange to have you picked up.”

  “You’ll arrange to have me picked up,” I repeat more to myself than to him as I nod slowly. “I’m a big girl, Flint. I am pretty sure I can get myself from the train station to my apartment.”

  “Okay.”

  Okay. I … I don’t know what to say.

  “Goodnight.”

  I nod, releasing the tears with one blink.

  He ends the call.

  “Sleep tight,” I whisper to no one.

  *

  THIRTY-SIX HOURS. THAT’S how long it takes to get from Providence to Minneapolis by train. A little longer than taking a plane—just a little.

  It’s bittersweet. For thirty-six hours, someone else has taken care of my dad. For thirty-six hours I’ve felt my heart being pulled apart. If something happens to him, I’m back to where I started three weeks ago. I’m sure Flint would don his cape to save my day again, but I don’t want that. Thirty-six hours gave me plenty of time to find empathy.

  What if he cares about me even half as much as I care for him and Harry? If it’s true, then I’m hurting him by moving. I don’t think he will ever show me that much raw honesty and emotion. His heart is guarded—rightfully so.

  Missing me won’t change how he feels. Telling me won’t make me stay. It’s selfish of me to expect him to share anything with me. I’m leaving.

  I take a cab from the train station to my house. Digging my spare key out of the pocket of my purse, I stick it in the lock, but the door is unlocked. I ease it open and listen.

  Harry.

  He’s talking to my rats. It’s their dinner time.

  I set my purse on the floor. I didn’t bring home any clothes, since everything at my dad’s is stuff I purchased after arriving there.

  “Hello?”

  “Ellen?” Harry peeks his head out of the bedroom. “Why are you here?”

  I smile, walking down the hall. “I live here.” But not for long. My smile falters as I meet Flint’s gaze. He’s leaning against the wall—in my rats’ room. It’s … unexpected.

  “Hi,” I whisper, feeling all sorts of emotions collide in my heart—pain being the strongest.

  “Hey.” He smiles. It’s distant, forced, and gut-wrenching.

  “I should have brought my guitar.”

  I draw in a shaky breath to even out my emotions as I pick up Lady Gaga. “Hi, baby.” I kiss her. “We’ll play sometime before I leave.”

  “You’re leaving again?”

  My gaze shifts from Harry to Flint. I assumed he told him. I was wrong.

  Flint remains expressionless.

  “Yes.” I return my attention to Harry. “You know my dad had a stroke?”

  Harry nods. “He didn’t die.”

  “No. But it’s going to take him a long time to fully heal, and I’m really the only family he has. His parents are still alive, but they’re too old to give him the care he needs.”

  “Will you be back before Christmas? I asked my grandparents to get me rats for Christmas. I want to see if my rats and your rats play well together.”

  I look at Flint. His brow tenses.

  “I’m moving to Cape Cod, Harry. It’s not temporary. At least not like a few months.”

  “But you’re coming back eventually, right? I think my dad is getting tired of driving me here to take care of your rats. Maybe we should move them to our house until you move back here.”

  Of course Flint’s tired of dealing with my rats.

  I smile at Harry. “I’m actually taking them with me.”

  “Oh …” His forehead wrinkles. “Come,” he calls to my rats.

  They scurry to their cage like Harry is their alpha. I ease Lady into the cage and give my guys all a quick pet before shutting the door.

  “Come here, Harry.” I walk to my room and reach into my sock drawer, pulling out three one hundred dollar bills. “This is for taking really good care of my babies.”

  His eyes bulge out. “Three hundred dollars?”

  I rest my hand on the side of his face. He stiffens at first before relaxing a little. “Thank you, Harry.” I kiss the cheek opposite of my hand, and whisper in his ear, “I’m going to miss you so much.”

  “You said we’d play guitars before you leave.”

  Releasing his face, I smile. “We will. I promise. I’ll be here for a week, getting things packed.”

  “K.” He nods. “Let’s go,” he says to Flint, who’s watching us from the doorway to my bedroom.

  Flint hands him the key fob. “I’ll meet you in the car.”

  We stare at each other until the door shuts behind Harry.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you hadn’t told him.” I slip my fingers into the front pockets of my jeans and shrug. “I think he’s okay with it.”

  “Lucky Harrison.” The muscles in his jaw tick.

  “You’ve wanted me out of your life since day one.”

&nbs
p; “I wanted you out of my office building.”

  “Well…” I give him a tight-lipped smile “…I’m out.”

  “I can’t fix this,” he says with his voice so tight it feels like an elastic band ready to snap.

  I shake my head. “It’s not yours to fix.” Turning to the side, I squeeze past him to get my purse and phone from the floor by the front door.

  Flint grabs my wrist and jerks my arm until I face him. So much anger distorts his face as he presses my hand to his sternum, jaw clenched.

  Blood races through my veins and my pulse pounds in my ears.

  “This,” he grits, pushing my hand harder against his chest like he’s using it to punctuate his words. “I can’t fix this.” He hammers my hand harder to his chest one more time.

  My fingers curl into his shirt, like I can grab his heart and save it. “Life is so fucking cruel,” I whisper.

  He cradles my head in his hands and presses his forehead to mine. “Stay.”

  I don’t even have to blink. The tears come so fast. It’s like he snapped my heart in two and I can’t stop the bleeding.

  “I can’t.” Those two words feel like razors slashing my already dying heart.

  “I missed you.” He rolls his forehead back and forth against mine as his grip on me tightens.

  “Flint …” I sob, gripping his shirt with my other hand too. I don’t want to ever let go.

  “I love you,” he whispers a breath before his mouth takes mine.

  I kiss him and I cry.

  I kiss him and I break.

  I kiss him and I pretend that it matters.

  But … it doesn’t, so I just kiss him.

  There’s never a Subaru Outback, a bag stuffed with a few wadded clothes, and a great adventure waiting when you need it the most.

  He breaks the kiss, breathless, searching my eyes.

  I open my mouth to say something … God, I don’t know what to say. The pain has swallowed me up and left me with nothing. Not. One. Single. Word.

  Say something!

  He casts his gaze to the ground for a few seconds, turns, and leaves my apartment.

  *

  I WAIT IN my car until midnight; that’s when the lights shut off. Buttoning my wool coat, I jump out, run across the street and up the porch steps. I pull my phone out of my pocket.

  ME: I can stay for a week

  It’s windy and cold. I shiver, hugging myself while I wait for him to respond.

  FLINT: I’ll take it

  ME: Then come let me inside

  I grin. This may be the most sadistic thing I have ever done to myself. It’s going to hurt so damn bad when I leave in a week, but I will regret it if I don’t seize this moment, no matter how quickly it may pass.

  The door eases open. I step inside, shivering. Flint’s wearing only a pair of black briefs and a frown. I love every single one of his frowns. They’re a silent challenge. Can I take them away? Will he give me the smile behind it? Am I worthy?

  After unbuttoning my jacket and hanging it on the coat tree, I press my cold hands against his warm chest. He doesn’t even flinch. Confusion etches his forehead, apprehension heavy in his eyes.

  “Stop frowning, Mr. Hopkins. I’m going to fulfill all of your sexual fantasies over the next seven days.”

  The corner of his mouth curls into the tiniest of smiles.

  Me.

  He smiles for me.

  I make him happy.

  Another overlooked wonder of the world: bringing someone complete, intoxicating happiness. I lift onto my toes to capture those pouty lips. He picks me up, wrapping my legs around his waist, and he carries me upstairs.

  “Shhh …” he says, pressing his lips to my ear as he carries me down the hall to his room. “If you don’t stop humming, I’m going to have to gag you. Child in the house.”

  I kiss his neck.

  “I feel your grin against my neck,” he whispers, easing the bedroom door shut behind us and locking it.

  “You love me.” I smile as he lowers me to my feet.

  “Lotta good it does me.” Another frown.

  I inch my scarf off, letting it float to the ground. “Never regret loving someone. Do it for you, not for them.”

  His gaze eats me up one inch at a time. And there it is … the lazy swipe of his tongue over his bottom lip. It’s so fucking sexy. He’s so fucking sexy.

  I take a step back, giving him a better view as I shrug off my shirt, revealing my favorite black lace bra. “If you want to do something for the person you love…” I slide down my leggings “…open your heart to let them love you back.” My hand reaches for his.

  He takes it, letting me pull him to his bed.

  “Sit,” I whisper.

  After a long look at my sexiest panties and bra, he folds his tall body to sit on the edge of the bed. I step between his legs. His hands inch up the back of my legs, taking their time memorizing the curve of my ass. I press my palms to his cheeks, brushing the pad of my thumb over his lower lip.

  “Will you open your heart to me?”

  His hands move to the clasp of my bra while his gaze remains locked to mine. “Yes.”

  “Good.” I kiss his forehead, down his nose, and along his cheekbones. “Because I’m going to love you so hard, time won’t matter.” I kiss one side of his mouth as he eases my bra off. “Distance won’t matter.” I kiss the other side of his mouth. “All you’ll feel when you take each breath…” my lips hover over his “…is my love.”

  For the rest of the night we pay homage to each other—physically, emotionally, spiritually. I refuse to stop until my mouth and hands have touched him everywhere and his have possessed every inch of me. I memorize the look he gets at the exact moment he loses himself to me. His back arches. My hand splays over his taut stomach muscles; my fingers curl into his tight flesh like I’m claiming him—Every. Single. Piece.

  It’s sensual.

  It’s vulnerable.

  It’s beautiful.

  It’s mine. I want that look to be mine and only mine forever.

  I want to be his greatest strength—and his greatest weakness.

  I want to be where he hides his lies and finds his truth.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Flint

  “YOU HAVE TO leave.” I begrudgingly attempt to dress the naked woman sprawled out on my bed. There’s bedding everywhere—pillows half on the bed, half on my night stand, my comforter on the floor at the end of the bed, blankets wadded up beside the bed, the fitted sheet pulled off two of the corners of the mattress, and the top sheet woven around said naked woman passed out on her stomach. Sweat, sex, and her fruity shampoo fight to be the dominant smell in the room.

  “Elle …” I tug at the sheet, but it’s all knotted. How did this happen? I grin. I know how it happened.

  Her arms break free, reaching to the top of the mattress like she’s getting a good stretch. But instead of relaxing, her fingers curl into the edge of my mattress like she’s dangling from the roof of a tall building.

  “Elle?”

  “I’m not leaving,” she mumbles into the mattress.

  “You can’t stay.”

  “What time is it?” She keeps her head buried.

  “Four.”

  She grunts. “Wake me in two hours.”

  I sigh, running my hands through my hair that’s been thoroughly yanked and pulled over the past four hours. “Harry gets up at six.”

  “Great. I’ll make everyone breakfast.”

  I growl in frustration. “I told him we wouldn’t have sex.”

  “Then shame on you.” Her sexy little body shakes with silent laughter.

  I want to sink my teeth into the exposed curve of her ass and fuck her senseless for being so stubborn and laughing at my predicament. I squint, leaning a bit closer. Those might already be my teeth marks on her ass. Serves her right.

  “Ellen …”

  “I’m getting chilled.” She turns her head to the side, blinking ope
n one eye. “Grab a blanket and give me your naked body heat.”

  “You’re going to have to sneak down the back stairs, right at six o’clock.” I grab a blanket from the floor and start to slide into bed.

  “Uh uh … naked body heat.” She grins.

  I slide off my briefs and cover us with the blanket. She wiggles free from the confines of the sheet and hugs me with her whole body. After shushing her humming three times, I give up and let it lull me to sleep.

  *

  BANG! BANG! BANG!

  “I can’t find my other sock. Why is your door locked? You never lock your door.”

  My eyes shoot open as I jackknife to sitting. Ellen eases to sitting next to me, rubbing her eyes.

  Rattle. Rattle. Rattle.

  He’s already working the key from above the door into the lock. How the hell did he get that down so fast?

  “Harrison stay out—”

  Light from the hallway blinds us as he stands in the open threshold, holding a single sock in his hand. Elle pulls the blanket up to cover her bare chest, but I think there’s a good chance he already saw it. Maybe not. Maybe it’s too dark in here.

  Fuck. I hope it’s too dark in here.

  “Ellen?”

  “Morning, Harry.”

  “Harrison. I’ll be out in a minute. Please shut the door.”

  “Did you have sex with Ellen?” Harrison takes a step inside the bedroom, eyes making an inspection of the floor where I’m sure he’ll find her discarded clothes and my briefs.

  “Harrison, close the door, now.”

  He closes the door—with him still on the inside of the room.

  “Not what I meant.”

  He flips on the lights. We squint again.

  “For god sake, Harrison.”

  “Did you have sex with Ellen? You said you wouldn’t have sex with Ellen. You promised you wouldn’t have sex with Ellen or my teachers. I told you this would happen if you kissed her. Did you kiss her?”

  He’s smarter than this. He knows the answers to these questions. But when he’s upset, he thinks out loud, so I let him because I’m naked under this blanket and so is she. Neither one of us can get up and cover up without leaving the other one naked. We’re completely at his mercy.