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Losing It

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I shake my head. “Too risky.”

“See, I’m gonna have to stay.”

“It’s early. I’ll manage dinner.” I press my lips into a smile.

He closes the distance between us. Cups my hip with his hand. Pulls my body into his.

Kisses me.

Mmm. He tastes good.

This feels right.

Like it’s where we’re both supposed to be.

Wes pulls back with a heavy sigh. “What are you doing today?”

It’s already late afternoon, but I don’t bring that up. “Recovering.” I try to make my smile flirty. Get most of the way there.

He returns a wicked smile. “You trying to drive me crazy?”

I motion a little.

He takes a step backward. “I’ll text you.”

“Sure. Yeah.” I nod goodbye.

He spins on his heels. Moves out of the apartment. Presses the door into the frame.

I cross the room to lock it.

Rest my back against the steady surface.

He’s leaving.

It’s normal.

But it feels like he’s taking some part of me with him.

And, God, I have no idea how to get it back.

I fix an extra strong cup of English Breakfast. Add lots of honey and almond milk. Drink with greedy sips.

It’s delicious, sweet, creamy perfection.

But it’s not comforting.

It’s only bringing me back to this morning. To Wes at my kitchen counter. And the couch. And my bed.

He’s all over the apartment.

And now I…

This is casual. It’s no big deal. I can handle that.

No matter how many times I repeat the mantra to myself, it fails to stick.

I turn the TV to Turner Classic Movies. A gorgeous black and white beach scene from Some Like it Hot flashes on screen, but it fails to grab my attention.

I pull out my cell.

Which is up to my texts with Wes.

Of course.

Ugh.

Not looking at that.

Not thinking about him.

Thinking about—

That’s it.

I call Owen.

He picks up on the third ring. “Hey, Q, you’re needy all of a sudden. Unless—is someone dead? Are you pregnant?”

“No and God no.”

“You and Mr. Fling haven’t crossed that bridge?”

“You’d kill Reggie for asking me that.”

He laughs. “No. I’d give him shit. But later I’d… Um. Never mind.”

Gossip about me, of course.

Owen clears his throat. “How is Mr. Fling?”

“He’s good.”

“No, Q. How is he?”

“Oh.” I swallow hard. “Same answer.” I can’t tell him I’m nervous about going further. Or that I’m getting attached. Or that I’m completely failing to think of something that isn’t Wes or my impending doom. “He’s different than other people I know.”

“How?”

“He’s fun. But he’s more too. He tries to pretend like he’s shallow, but there’s more to him.”

“Oh, Q.”

“What?”

“Guys like that—there’s not more there. There’s nothing there.”

Owen knows a lot about guys, but he’s wrong about Wes. I know Wes. I see the hurt in his blue eyes. “There is.”

“Don’t let orgasms cloud your judgment.”

“I’m not. We’re just… it’s casual. We both get that.” Maybe this was a bad idea. I don’t need someone else questioning my judgment. I do it enough myself. “How are you?”

“Tired. Just got home.”

“Work good?”

“Fuck yeah.” His voice softens. “Are you and Romeo having fun?”

“Yeah.” My lips curl into a smile. My chest warms. Wes is just… Wes. “A lot.”

“That’s what counts.”

That is what counts.

“You like him?” he asks.

“I do.”

“Only three weeks left with him.”

“Yeah.” I bite my lip. I know that. I don’t mind. It’s okay. Really.

“You gonna miss him?”

“I’ll miss it.” I’ll miss him too, but I don’t need my brother giving me the third degree.

Owen laughs. “Fuck, cold as ice. I like it.”

“Get used to it.”

“You know, I met the cutest resident yesterday. He’d be perfect for you.”

“Would he?”

“Yeah. I’ll introduce you when you get back. You have two weeks before school starts, right?”

“Right.” Ideally, I’ll spend them finding an apartment. I don’t want to live with my parents. I love them, but they’re maddening.

“I’ll put something on the schedule.”

“Sure.” The thought of another guy makes my chest heavy, but planning a future date is smart. It’s a good reminder this is temporary. Three more weeks. Then we’re done.

“And, well… you have anything planned when you get back?”

“Why?”

“Well…” His voice perks. “I promised Reggie I wouldn’t say anything.”

“But?”

Owen laughs. “I can keep a secret.”

He can’t, but I won’t argue. “Why are you asking?”

“I can’t want to spend time with my sister?”

“What time?”

He laughs. “We have something to tell you.”

“Something good?” I ask.

“Really good.”

He told me about their engagement on the phone. It must be bigger than that. But what the hell is bigger than that? “I’ll be happy?”

“If you’re not a total bitch.”

“Asshole.”

He laughs. “I’ll make a reservation for dinner.”

“The three of us?”

“Yep.”

“Mom and Dad know?”

“It’s going to you first.”

My chest warms. It’s sweet, Owen announcing news to me first. But making plans for my life in Chicago… it sucks the heat from the room.

Owen continues, “shit, I gotta go or the El will be jammed. Is Romeo gonna come back with you?”

“No. We’re casual.”

“You said that.”

“And it’s still true.”

“Hmmm…” He makes that noise that means I don’t believe you.



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