Stir Me (Rouse Me 2)

"You can't shield me from the world. People are going to start threads about how I'm too fat to play a sexy character no matter how close you are to me."

"You're supposed to call me when you feel overwhelmed. That's our deal."

She's quiet for a moment, only breathing. "Okay. Fine. I'll call next time I'm overwhelmed."

"Promise."

"I promise." Her breath is strained. She shifts again. "Never mind. I want to talk, okay? Can I just talk?"

"Of course."

"It's not like I believe these people. They're just idiots on the Internet. I mean, I wish I had the self-control to ignore them. I swore off the Internet for my first three months out of treatment. It was boring, but it was also kind of peaceful." She takes a deep breath. "This would be easier if you were here."

"You'd just jump me."

She laughs. "True. But after the first three or four times, I'd need a break."

She sounds so warm. So sweet. So okay. I should be there. I could leave now, but I'd be stuck in traffic for hours. I'd arrive at ten p.m. and need to leave by four a.m. if I wanted to get back to Samantha's place before she started freaking out.

"When are you going to be back?" she asks.

I take a deep breath. There's no way to soften this blow. "Monday."

"Monday?" Her voice is squeaky.

"I'd rather leave tomorrow, but her parents are going out of town and she's afraid to be alone."

"Oh."

"I can come for the day tomorrow. I'll leave in a few hours. I'll spend all of Friday with you, and I'll drive back here for the weekend."

"I'd rather you come home with your hands clean of this." There's more confidence in her voice, but there's still an unease. An apprehension. "Wait. Her parents are out of town?"

"Yeah."

"And where will you be?"

"She asked me to stay at the house."

Alyssa raises her voice. "She asked you?"

"It's not like that. She wants company."

"Yeah, if you were visiting me, I'd want company too." She exhales. "You can afford to drop four hundred dollars on a hotel for the weekend. Hell, I've seen your bank statements. You can afford a lot more than that."

"Snoop."

"You leave them on the kitchen table on purpose."

There has to be some way I can explain this to Alyssa. Samantha and I are like brother and sister. It doesn't mean anything. "She just needs someone nearby. That's all."

"Yeah, someone disgustingly hot near her fucking bed."

"We don't feel like that anymore."

"You don't." Her voice is high. She's upset. "But she must feel something for you. You're helping her, and I'm sure she remembers how good it felt to fuck you. What if she begs you to comfort her physically?"

"She won't."