calling?” She paused and then asked softly, “Still upset about Roger the Rat?”
“You and Zach need to stop,” Abby muttered. “I’m going to start picturing him with a long tail and big teeth.”
“And the problem with this is . . .? Seriously, baby, you need to quit worrying and hurting over him. I know that—”
“He’s not why I’m calling.” Zach’s blue eyes flashed through her mind, and her skin, still hot even though it had been hours . . .
“Okay. So why are you calling at two in the morning?”
“Zach.”
“Zach?”
“I . . .” She bit her lower lip. Because she felt better with something in her hands, she hit the light and grabbed her new journal. “I’ve got this new plan.”
“Abby, you and your damn plans—”
“Would you just listen?” she snapped. “It’s not a life plan thing. It’s just to get me . . . rebooted or something. I need to quit freaking out and trying to plan things. I know that. So I made a new plan. I’m going to stop worrying so much about the future. That’s the first thing. Second thing is to tell Roger off. I might do that tomorrow . . . or today, actually. Third up is to flip off the photographers next time I’m in LA. I already did the fourth one—get a tattoo.”
“You got a tattoo? What is it? Did Zach do it?”
Abigale rolled her eyes. “Who else would I let do it? And yes. It’s a dragonfly, on my left hip, before you interrupt again.” She cleared her throat. “The last one . . . well. It’s having a torrid affair.”
“A torrid affair.” Marin said it slowly, like she was rolling the words around on her tongue. “Just what do you mean by a torrid affair? Have you ever had one?”
“You know the answer to that.”
“Exactly. For you, a torrid affair would be having sex with a guy you’re attracted to . . . not somebody you were dating for months. Just how many lovers have you had, Abby?”
Abby made a face. “I’ve had two. And the first one was pretty damn good, too. It’s not my fault he turned out to be a two-timing, scum-sucking son of a bitch.”
“True. Actually, we might be able to count Jason as a torrid affair . . . he was just one that lasted for six months. Are you looking at a short-term thing or long-term thing?”
“I haven’t planned that out.” Abby started to pace the bedroom, tapping her journal against her thigh and trying to think about how to say this next part. She needed Marin to talk her down. But she needed Marin to understand she hadn’t lost her mind or something. She was just having a minor breakdown. That was all. Understandable. “I just . . . I want somebody who’ll make my heart stop, and then make it race all over again. I want somebody who’ll make me remember every damn second we were together, and not just the moment we were in bed. I want something to remember, Marin.”
Her friend laughed softly. “Damn, if you succeed, I’m going to be seriously envious, sweetie.” Then she sighed and said, “So have you thought about who you want this to be with? After all, strangers aren’t exactly safe, you know.”
“I know. I . . .”
Her throat closed up.
“Abby?”
“I—”
Marin muttered something and then demanded, “You said you were calling about Zach. Are you thinking about having an affair with Zach? Our Zach?”
She opened her mouth to say, “No. I want you to talk me out of it. It’s a bad idea.”
But what she heard herself saying was, “Yes.”
Damn it, you moron! She smacked herself in the forehead and stormed over to her window, shoving open the curtains so she could stare out into the night. The desert and the mountains spread out in front of her, usually a sight that calmed her, but try as she might, she couldn’t get anything to calm her tonight.
“It’s a stupid idea, I know,” she said quietly. “I know that. I just need you to talk me out of it.”
“Why would I do that?” Marin yawned. “Sorry. Long day. Anyway. I think you should go for it. He’s hot. He cares about you. And if you’re attracted to him? Go for it.”
She opened her mouth. Closed it. “You’re not helping,” she whispered quietly. “Damn it, he’s my best friend. Things like this don’t tend to end well and I can’t lose him. You know what he