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And me . . . I can’t move.
“Karlee?” He looks at me, and I swallow hard, getting out of the car. He follows. “You all right? I don’t want to dump you like this, but you’ll be safe, I promise. I need to try and end this.”
End.
My eyes burn. Damn them.
I swallow again. End. There’s a huge, hot lump in my throat that makes it hard to breathe.
“So, we’re over?”
He leans against the car. “Karlee, shelf life, remember? None of it should have happened, and you know it. I don’t regret touching you, not in that way, but we both fucking know I shouldn’t have done that. And this has an expiration date.”
“I touched you first.”
“Karlee.”
It’s so quiet it breaks my heart.
“Just sex then.”
Even to me, the brightness in my voice could grate stone and make it bleed.
“You know that’s what it is, right?” He looks at me, and I try not to let the burn turn to tears. “I thought . . .”
What was I expecting, anyway? Hearts? A stupid ring?
Come on, I’m not that kind of girl. I’m independent and cool and . . . I nod. “You thought what? Please, I just wanted to make sure you weren’t all sweet on me, and I’d never get rid of you. It’s almost over, right?”
“It’s not just sex, Karlee, but it has to be just that. I’m . . . you need a better man.”
He’s trying to make me feel better, everything’s tangling at my feet, and I need to go. I can’t. If I stand here longer, I’ll cry. I hate crying. So pointless. “You got that right. Are . . . are you coming back?”
He raises a brow. “I live here. And you’ll be staying until everything’s safe. I was thinking of somewhere else, but this is the safest.”
“I’ll see you when I see you.”
I grab my art and drag it up the path, ignoring him when he calls my name because I can’t see. The world’s blurry with dumb tears. The big guy up ahead veers around me to speak to Tizio. I stop and take in a shaking breath.
“Pull yourself together.”
“Come on, Karlee,” Wendy says in her calm way, “let’s go inside.”
I splash water on my face and force myself to be cool, calm, and mostly collected. I’m not sure it works, but it’s better than crying like a banshee in a bodyguard’s arms.
When I come out, my phone’s buzzing with a call from Laura. There are about ten other missed calls, all from her.
“Spill all the tea,” Laura says. “I heard everything. And I still want to hear it from you. There were more of them. How many are there?”
I laugh, and if it’s a bit shaky, she doesn’t say a word. “I don’t know. Three I’ve met.”
“Hmm, not a big outfit. Are they all hot?”
“Laura!” I force another laugh, then I pause. “Actually, I feel a little lost. I think the bodyguard thing is coming to an end.”
“You like him, oh, Karlee.” Then she gasps. “We’ll make an evening, I’ll bring the rum, we’ll order pizza and paint our nails and bitch about men. I’ll come to you.”
I look about. This isn’t my place. “I can come to you.”
