“Hey, Evie?”
“Yeah.” Her eyes appear over her laptop screen. I can’t ask her what to do with Kate, but there is one thing I need her opinion about.
“Do you think I need to see a doctor?” She bites on the end of her pen as she considers my question.
“Why? Do you have an itching and burning sensation when you pee?” I narrow my eyes and a grin fills her face.
“No. Not that kind of doctor. It’s just that two different people who I respect have mentioned they think I need to talk about my feelings. In a professional setting.” Maybe I shouldn’t have brought this up. Just saying it aloud fills me with embarrassment. I study my notepad.
“Here’s the thing.” Evie stares out the window and twirls her pen. “If it’s two people you trust and respect, who put your best interests first and call it like they see it? Then, there’s your answer.” I nod and consider her input.
“Besides, you’re a badass, Jon. Served overseas, for God’s sake. I’m sure you can handle one hour of talking.”
“One hour!” The words leave in a shout and I shake my head. Evie shrugs.
“That’s the common length of most counseling sessions, as far as I know.”
“Seems like a long time, that’s all,” I grumble.
“Hey, my dad has a friend who does a lot with the VA office. Maybe he can ask around and get some names for you?”
“Yeah, okay. Thanks, Evie. You’re a good friend.” She’s offering without being pushy and I appreciate that. I have no idea where to find a shrink, and I’m not about to go to anyone I find via Google. Maybe this won’t be as torturous as I imagine.
DAMN IT, KATE. WHAT WERE you thinking?
I sit across from my sinfully beautiful date and sip my third glass of Sangria in this trendy little Mexican cantina. There’s a picture above our table of the classic Last Supper, but in place of bread, painted tacos. I’m here with sex on a stick and it feels… wrong. Forced. It’s a feeling I’m not familiar with because I don’t do things I don’t want. I don’t know, maybe it’s just been a long day.
I was up early and packed before the auto shop returned my car. With Jon on his run, I loaded my car with my belongings. I dropped everything off at my apartment, took a quick shower, and was only late to work by an hour. Not that anyone cared, but it’s not something I make a habit of.
When Trent called to see if I had plans tonight I took that as a sign. Maybe I need to spend time with another man to keep my thoughts distracted from a certain someone. Trent’s insanely attractive, he’s funny, easy to talk with, and oh, he’s a musician. Nothing better. Except, all night there’s this nagging in the back of my head. It’s very distracting.
“We’ll start in Florida next week and work our way up the East Coast. Can’t fucking wait to hit NYC. That’s like a dream. To play in a city known for culture and art. We’re the opener now, but in a year or two, can you imagine the possibilities? Fucking living the dream. So what about you, Miss Kate Bryant? What’s next for you?”
“Can I get you another drink?” Our server comes by the table and when I nod, he rushes off to retrieve another. I should stop, or slow down at least, but the fruit infused wine fills me with a warm, fuzzy feeling. Absolution from the thoughts striving to hijack this date.
“I don’t know what’s next for me.” I thank the server as he sets down my glass and I rub my fingers against the condensation that gathers from the cool liquid.
“I find that difficult to believe! After your debut show at the gala? I’m surprised you don’t need an agent already. But if you do, I know a guy.” His eyes dance and I can’t help but smile.
“I did get one call. But nothing’s certain, so I don’t want to get my hopes up.” I lean forward and Trent does the same. “It’s a local gallery owner. Small, independent, but he saw my work and he wants to have lunch. That’s good, right?”
“Fucking amazing, Kate.” Trent’s smile is blinding. In this dimly light restaurant one lonely candle illuminates his features. Playful eyes, hair that curls onto his face, strong jawline and lips. I sigh. Those lips, the vessel to which his talent manifests. I lick my own and his smile widens.
“Wanna dance?” A little dance floor across the room holds a few couples attempting to salsa.
“Okay.” He stands, reaches out a hand to pull me to my feet. He’s so tall. Even in these pumps I still have to look up to meet his eyes. He saunters to the floor and I swing my hips in time. Dancing is fun. I like to dance.
Trent pulls me close and begins moving his hips to the rhythm of the music. Copying his moves, I smile wide. Hip to hip we move across the space. He’s good. He throws in a few hip hop moves to earn my laughter, and we grind our hips in slow, sensual movements that would make any other woman blush.
“Let’s get out of here.” He speaks against my ear. Shivers travel up my spine. He pulls me close and I can feel his arousal. I’m turned on too. The way we’re dancing is erotic, sexual, and I’m all revved up. I nod against his cheek and he traces the shell of my ear with his lips, finally sucking on my lobe. I gasp.
Trent pulls my arm, holds my hand in his, and drags me from the dance floor. We move outside and he hands the valet his ticket. His thumb rubs circles against the skin of my hand. It’s slow, purposeful foreplay.
He wants me. It’s obvious. But do I want him too? We would be hot together. A man like this, he oozes sexual energy and expertise. I would enjoy being on the receiving end. But don’t you want more than a one night stand? The thought passes quickly and dampens the throbbing between my legs.
When we get to my apartment, Trent follows me inside. He pulls me hard against his tall frame and covers my lips with his. His kiss is assertive, confident, bold. Everything Trent embodies. But I’m not feeling it. I pull away.
“Wait. Give me a minute.”
“What is it, babe?” He brushes a few wayward hairs from my face.
“I—I need to know what this means to you. Tonight. Us.” His lips tilt up to reveal a smile and he leans in. Framing my face with his hands, he peppers kisses over my eyelids, nose, and finally, lips.
“I want this Kate. Us. Do you want it too?” he murmurs across my skin as he kisses his way to my neck.
“So, are we exclusive, then?” His movements halt and he pulls away to meet my gaze. His eyes dance playfully, one brow raised.
“If I say yes will you finally let me sink deep inside that pussy of yours?” My mouth drops open and I take a step back.
“Did you really just say that?” He laughs a deep husky chuckle and pulls me back into an embrace.
“What, chick? What’s the big deal?” I push at his chest and glare.
“You can’t say that kind of stuff. You’re supposed to act like a nice guy!”
“Babe, why are you freaking out?” He releases me and studies my reaction. I forget that Trent’s not used to rejection. I imagine this clueless act is authentic.
“Because you’re being an ass!” He shakes he head and pushes his hair from where it falls forward.
“Look, Kate. I’ve been straight with you this whole time. I’m not promising you sunshine and rainbows. I’m not gonna lie and say I won’t fuck other girls when I’m on the road. But right now I only want to be with you.” His eyes are pleading and his words are sincere. Oh, to be a rock star.
“That’s so messed up.” I roll my eyes. He only shrugs.