Whythe helldid it sound so intriguing?
I blew out a breath. “It’s Kaz.”
“You’re hooking up with him?”
“Yes.”
“On the regular?”
“Sort of.”
“And it’s going to happen again?”
“Probably. Unless you convince me it’s a very bad idea.”
One corner of Piper’s mouth quirked up. “Oh, it’s a fucking terrible idea, but when has that ever stopped anyone?” She laughed. “Does Trinity know?”
“God, no. I might be temporarily insane, but I’m not suicidal. She won’t ever find out.”
“She didn’t get to the position she’s in by being naive, Mol. The longer this keeps going, the more risk you’re taking on.”
My blood pulsed a hard, rebellious rhythm inside my veins. “We’re careful.”
“I believe you.” Piper’s tone softened an inch. “And I hate to be a buzzkill, but I have to say, I’m surprised that you would take a risk like this. You’ve always been by the book.”
“And where has that gotten me?” I demanded, as if she’d have all the answers. “I did everything right in college, graduated early, left the few friends I made behind, and moved to a city where I thought I’d finally be independent. I got a job I thought I wanted, only to discover it barely pays enough to survive. You know, for years I thought following rules was the only sure path to success, but I’m starting to realize maybe I’ve been wrong about that all along. Look at all the truly successful people around us, Piper. We’re surrounded by them. Are any of them rule followers? You think Trinity could ever be described as by the book?”
Concern lined her face. “Whoa, okay. I thought you liked being at Hyperion despite the crappy pay. What about the promotion you wanted?”
“I still want it. I think.” My fists curled on my thighs. “Ugh, I don’t know! Trinity just told me she saw potential in me, and of course I told her I’m committed to Hyperion, but I felt like a fraud saying it. I don’t know what I want. I never got a chance to figure it out. I just know I’ve been seeking a certain feeling ever since my folks died, but the closer I think I get to it, the further away it actually is.”
“What feeling?”
“Security. Stability. Some combination of the two. If you asked me two weeks ago, I’d say the promotion was the thing that would give that feeling to me, but now…” I covered my face with my palms and dropped my head against the headrest. “I have this feeling in my gut telling me I’m wrong.”
“So what is this thing with Kaz? Some kind of self-sabotage?”
I dropped my palms. “No. I—” Shutting my mouth, I looked out the window. I didn’t want to tell Piper I’d started it because I thought it would distract me from Mason and the unresolved feelings I still have for him. “I don’t know what I want, but when I’m with him, I forget about all that for a little while.”
Piper reached over and clasped my hand. Her expression told me she thought I was making a mistake, but I knew she wouldn’t say it out loud. “I’m glad he takes your mind off things. It sounds like what you need.”
“Yeah.”
A pregnant silence settled around us before Piper broke it. “I’d ask if you want to talk over lunch again tomorrow, but I’m taking the day off. Manny and I are going to San Diego for the weekend.”
I gave her a teasing smile. “Things are really heating up between you two, huh?”
She sighed. “He booked a fancy five-star hotel. I could hardly say no to that. He is growing on me. I told him he had to ease up on the at-work PDA, and he actually listened.”
“He better if he knows what’s good for him.”
Piper chuckled before growing serious once again. “Yeah, well, don’t let our getaway stop you from reaching out if you want to talk this weekend, okay? I’m here for you, Mol.”
“I know. I’ll be fine.”
I spent the rest of the day at the office, catching up on the tasks Trinity had implied I’d let fall by the wayside, and by the time I walked into the lobby of my apartment building, it was past seven pm. I cursed myself for unintentionally risking an encounter with Cory. Usually, he was at work until at least seven, which meant he got home between seven thirty and eight—a time slot I was currently too close to for my own comfort. I gingerly climbed the stairs and beelined straight inside my apartment.
My living space was due for some serious tidying, but I ignored it. After the long day I’d had, the cheap box of Trader Joe’s wine I had stashed in the kitchen was calling my name. I poured myself a generous glass, undressed, put on some Erykah Badu, and climbed into the tiny tub. It was too small for a proper soak, but I’d gotten used to the half-submerged experience. Back in my childhood home, I’d taken long baths in my parents’ ceramic claw-foot tub at least once a week because it helped me think. And I was in need of some serious thinking.
