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“Did you forget everything we talked about Sunday?” I asked, swiveling in my chair. “They’re made of the stuff you hate about yourself.”
“How many can you have at once?” Grace asked.
Anger stirred within me, because at first I thought she was taking a jab at me. But from the fearful tone of her voice, it was clear she was thinking about how many Clark Kents she might have to deal with at the same time, so I answered. “Well, I used to have a lot of issues. Why do you think I see Dr. Silk?”
“Thank God,” she muttered.
“What?”
“Oh, nothing.”
I let it slide. “Whatever. At one time, I had seven of them running around.”
“Jesus…”
“Jesus is right,” I said. “Anyway, if you get a lot of them, that shit’s not sustainable. So you have to start making them go away at some point.”
“What if you don’t?”
I could hear the hunger in her tone; in her words. She needed me.
I liked that.
“If you don’t, they drain you. Did you spend time with your ex? This fucked up one.”
“Yes,” she said. “Earlier this week. We walked around the park and talked, we—”
“I don’t give a fuck about that. Did you sleep with him?”
She went quiet.
“Did you sleep with him?” I repeated. I didn’t know why, but there was some kind of uncomfortable feeling in my chest. Maybe I was starting to care about what happened to her. Maybe I just didn’t want anyone else to have to go what I went through. Whatever, I’d think about that later.
“I didn’t,” she revealed.
Sweet fucking relief.
“But it was almost impossible to resist. Is that normal?” She asked, a hint of desperation in her voice.
I nodded, but then realized she couldn’t see me. “It’s how these things work. Everything you felt for that person at the height of the relationship will be intensified.”
There was a pause.
Then I said, “I’m surprised you were able to resist. I wasn’t.”
“Well, this probably won’t surprise you at all, but I’m kind of a prude,” she snapped.
I smiled at that.
She made me smile. Fuck.
My eyes darted out the window to locate Summer, who was still in the hammock, her hands wrapped around a book instead of my balls.
Relief poured through me. “I know, I know. And I’m kind of a man-whore, so here we are.”
The line went quiet, but I could hear her smiling.
But this was new. I didn’t know it was possible to resist one of them. My curiosity overruled my need to be in control of the conversation, so I asked what was on my mind. “How did you resist, if you don’t mind me asking?”
