ever believe that in light of what I did with his wife. I think about what he saw that night in his bedroom in the Hamptons and cringe. Sex with Ginger was always “energetic,” and that night was no exception. He walked in to see my bare ass and his moaning wife on her knees as she sucked me off.
“Ugh.” I down the last of the beer and go get another one, wishing I knew the location of that switch Carmen mentioned, the one that could turn off thoughts we no longer wish to have. Maybe I should focus my research on figuring out that mystery. It’d be worth billions to people who’d give anything to be able to selectively forget upsetting or painful things.
I wish I’d never checked my email, even if it was mostly uplifting, with supportive messages from colleagues and friends. I didn’t need to see the nonsense from Ginger, not when I’ve been making progress in trying to move on from that shit show.
Grabbing my phone, I sit on the bed and open a text to Carmen. Talking to her makes me feel better. Why? Who knows? It just does.
I stare for a long time at the text that says she’s safely home before I type a reply.
I wish you hadn’t left.
Send.
CHAPTER 13
CARMEN
I’ve just stepped out of the shower when my phone chimes with a text. I wrap my hair in a towel and grab the phone off the bathroom counter.
Jason.
My heart does a funny flip-flopping thing that leaves me breathless.
I wish you hadn’t left.
What does that mean? Is he saying he wishes I’d stayed and spent the night in his bed? And if so, why does the thought of that make everything inside me go haywire? My chest feels too small for my heart and lungs. My belly is fluttering, and the hot, tight feeling of desire that’s been missing from my life for five long, lonely years has come roaring back to remind me that while Tony is gone forever, I’m still very much alive.
And I want this man.
My phone chimes with another text from him.
Sorry if that’s too blunt. He includes the smiley face and red-face emojis. But it’s true. I wish you were still here.
Before I can give in to my propensity to overthink everything, I respond to him. I wish I was still there, too.
Really? You do?
I laugh out loud at his silly reply and send the laughing and crown emojis followed by a text. Drama queen.
No, seriously. Today was just so . . . perfect. It was an absolutely perfect day, and that’s because of you.
And you. I enjoyed it, too. So much.
My phone rings, and it’s him, asking to FaceTime with me. I run my fingers through my wet hair and take the call. “If I look frightening, it’s because I had no time to brush my hair.”
“You couldn’t look frightening if you tried.”
I swallow hard at the sight of him sitting up in bed, his chest bare and the sheet gathered around his waist. Is he naked under there? I zero in on the golden hair that covers his chest and abdomen, arrowing down toward the sheet. I lick lips that’ve gone dry as I check him out. “You should see me first thing in the morning.” The words are out before I take a second to contemplate what exactly I’m saying.
He responds with a wolfish grin that melts my panties. Oh wait, I’m not wearing any. Crap. “I’d love to see you first thing in the morning. When would you like to do that?”
I giggle like a silly girl, which is exactly how he makes me feel. Like I’m once again young with my heart still intact the way it was before tragedy shattered my world and crushed me. I’ve forgotten how it feels to be lighthearted, whole, happy, excited for the future. These emotions wash over me in a tidal wave of elation that meeting Jason has brought back into my life.
“I apologize for being inappropriate,” he says, bringing me back to reality.
“You were joking. I know that.”
“Um, well, no, not really. I can’t stop thinking about being with you and kissing you and how amazing that was.”
“It was pretty amazing.”
“I’m glad you think so, too.”
“I do.”
“So yeah, not joking about wishing I could see you first thing in the morning, and all the rest of the time, too.”
He’s so cute and so sexy and so . . . I have to stop myself from