he dropped me off that evening, he left me with a friendly hug and I did my best not to be disappointed by it.
♪♫♪
We had gone out three times in the past week and still he hadn’t kissed me. We didn’t lack chemistry. This I knew. But he kept everything on the platonic side of the fence, if only just barely.
We had spent this evening out with his friends and he had stuck to my side, often keeping a hand on my hip and glaring at his friends if they tried to flirt with me. So as he walked me to my door, I made the decision to take things into my own hands. When we reached the top of the steps across from my door, I stopped him. “Can you do me a favor?” I asked as my stomach rioted.
“Sure.”
“Can you go down one step?” I nodded toward the stairs we had just ascended.
He raised a questioning eyebrow at me, but said, “Sure…” and slowly stepped down.
I positioned myself right in front of him, my toes at the edge of the landing. We were nearly eye to eye now, and as I wrapped one hand around the back of his neck, he grinned. “Hi,” he said, leaning toward me.
A little wave of triumph washed through me. “Hi,” I whispered just before kissing him.
I’m not sure why he hadn’t really kissed me before today, since he didn’t hold back now. He held on to the railing beside him with one hand and wrapped the other arm around my waist. He breathed deep through his nose then let out a satisfied hum before pulling back just enough to ask, “What took you so long?”
He didn’t give me time to answer, just went right back to kissing me, and as I thought about it (with what little of my brain was not occupied with his mouth), I came to the conclusion that he must have been waiting me out on purpose. I couldn’t fathom why, but at the moment, I didn’t care. He was kissing me now and that was good enough for me.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
God grant me serenity
God grant me peace
I asked you for those
Now don’t give me a speech
‘Bout the debt that I owe
To the people I hurt
If I say all those words
It would just make it worse
For me
For selfish me
—Sean Amity
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I was on my computer when a message popped up from Naomi.
Naomi: You need to see this.
Attached was a link to an article with the title “Sean Amity Finishes Rehab. Now What?”
My stomach dropped and I clicked on the link. I didn’t bother reading the article, knowing that all the pertinent information would be in the video.
Footage of Sean leaving the center in a baseball cap and big sunglasses filled the screen as a news anchor did a voice-over.
“Singer Sean Amity was released from a substance abuse recovery center today after a four-week stay. He entered into the program after being hospitalized for what is assumed to be a substance overdose.”
The camera zoomed in on Randy as he directed Sean into a waiting car. “Sean’s manager, Randy Michaelson, was there as he was released, and some sources have indicated that Sean’s mother has been a regular visitor during his recovery. However, the question on many fan’s minds is about this woman.”
A photo of me filled the screen. Scarf over my head. Giant sunglasses in place.
“Though she hasn’t been identified and it’s clear she tries to hide her face and change her look whenever she’s around him, stories are surfacing of this same woman being present during many of the singer’s drinking binges.” Photo after photo of me with Sean popped up as the voice-over continued. “While some claim she encourages his drinking, or is the cause of it, most reports indicate that she only appears when this derelict celebrity needs to be escorted away from his bad habits.”
A short clip of me in jeans, t-shirt, and baseball cap played, the view blocked by several of Sean’s security guys, but still showing my attempts to walk a stumbling Sean out of a dive bar he had found in the middle of the night about five months ago.
“Some even call her his guardian angel, but if that’s the case, then why isn’t the mysterious woman there with him now?”
The reporter went on with more information and speculation about Sean, his stay, and what this meant for his career.
When the clip ended, I leaned back and pressed the heels of my hands