She’d thought giving her heart would be a conscious choice, something she planned and organized before she said the words, as she had with Derrick. But that hadn’t been love. Not real emotional-whirlwind-inducing love, not like this. This was everything she’d always feared. It threatened to rip her to shreds, leaving her world in chaos.
Maggie squeezed her eyes closed against the onslaught of tears. What an idiot. How could she think she had any control over love? She should have known better. After years spent loving a father who’d chosen alcohol over her, she should have realized love wasn’t under her control. Love happened. Plain and simple. And it had happened to her.
* * *
MAGGIE SAT ON the floor of Olivia’s living room surrounded by stick-to-your-thighs calories. Linguine Alfredo. Mozzarella sticks. Chocolate cake. Take-out containers surrounded her, waiting to offer comfort, but her body, her stomach in particular, insisted on wallowing in misery.
“What about lemon cream cake?” Olivia asked, pulling a brown box from the bag. “I ordered all your favorites.”
Maggie took the container and set it down beside the rest. “I’m not hungry.”
“Not even for cake?” Her friend plopped down on the floor beside her, not questioning why Maggie had chosen the worn blue carpet over the furniture. “Are you sure?”
Maggie shook her head. Beside the Alfredo, her cell phone vibrated. She didn’t have to look at the caller ID to know it was Hunter. He’d been calling for the past hour. Part of her wanted to answer just to hear his voice. But another part of her wanted to yell at him for playing with her emotions.
“I can’t believe I fell for him. I knew from the start that he only wanted to interfere with my work, but a few kisses, an offer of kinky sex, and here I am.”
“You really think he slept with you to stop your questions?” Olivia picked up a fork and dug into the steaming hot container of shrimp scampi. “Seems like an awful lot of effort when he could have simply refused to talk. The man made you s’mores. If he really wanted to mess with your book, I’m sure a person with his training could have found another way.”
“My study,” Maggie said, a renewed sense of panic washing over her. Oh, God, what else had he done? “After Frida’s, I couldn’t find him, and then I ran into him near my study. He was probably messing with my computer.”
“Well, did he?”
The phone started dancing again, begging to be answered. Maggie pushed it farther away. She was definitely too angry to talk to him. “No, my blog launched on time and there were no changes to my rough draft.”
“Have you stopped to think that it might not be so black and white?” Olivia asked. “Maybe what started as following orders turned into something real?”
No, she hadn’t. She lived her world in black and white, leaving the murky area in between to people who hadn’t had their hearts broken time after time growing up. “But how can I trust him now?”
Olivia shrugged. “Love is risky.”
Maggie shook her head. “I grew up surrounded by risk. I’ve had enough.”
“You can’t hide behind your past forever. You need to find your future and figure out who you are.”
“Who I am? If this book succeeds, I’m a bestselling author and tenured professor.”
Olivia stabbed another shrimp with her fork. “Is that all you want for yourself? You went to the car show for a reason, Maggie.”
“Because you made me.”
Olivia shook her head. “I pushed a little, but you wanted to go. You might not have realized it then, but you were looking for something.”
“Orgasms.”
“Is that all?”
Maggie closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the ottoman. “No, I was looking for a part of myself, the part that was buried beneath responsibility and my need to micromanage my life.”
“Did you find it?”
Maggie opened her eyes. “Yes.” In bed with Hunter she’d found her passionate side. But he’d given her more than fantasy sex. He’d been the person she confided in. He’d taken care of her for a change, cooking for her, protecting her from her colleague’s wandering hands, fixing her gutters.
“I want what I had this week. The fantasy,” she murmured. “And not just the sex. I want the loving, trusting relationship.”
“Maggie, if he loves you and you love him, it doesn’t have to be a fantasy.”
Then why did it still seem so far out of reach? Maggie sighed. “Letting Hunter into my life—trusting him, loving him—means putting my heart out there, and what happens after that? I wouldn’t have control of that and it scares me. Liv, what if it doesn’t work?”