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Needless to say, I’ve got issues that I don’t think a therapist could even solve.
If my best friend wasn’t dating three men, I’d start to wonder if it’s even possible to have feelings for that many people at once. I know she struggled to get a grasp on it at first, but they made it work, so maybe I could do the same?
There’s very little chance Marnix would be the sharing type, but I have a sneaking suspicion Cohutta and Rush might not object.
Jesus. I really need to get my shit together. I should be focusing on telling my parents I got married behind their backs, or trying to figure out how to put a stop to Zayan— not how many dicks I can add to my own personal harem.
When I look up at Rush though, all of those worries seem to melt away. His dark brown eyes keep me trapped, never wavering from mine. He’s rugged, handsome, and so fucking sexy with those tight curls and that toned body. He’s someone I could truly see myself with. Someone who would always be there for me when I fall, when I’m having a bad day, or whenever I just need someone.
“Rush,” I whisper, tilting my head closer to his. Without even thinking, I move in to kiss him, but he pulls away from me, taking my heart with him.
“Tara.” He puts some distance between us, and numbness creeps through my body as I realize I read signals wrong. Again.
“No. That was... I thought… I-I’ve got to go.” I stand abruptly and rush away from him, my face hot with embarrassment. It seems like all I can do tonight is run from my problems. Instead of handling them like an adult, I’m avoiding them. Pretending they don’t exist, hoping they’ll magically disappear.
If one thing has become clear to me since being here, it’s that maybe I’d be better off as a nun—living far, far away from all men, because that seems to be where all my issues lie.
Sister Mangal has a nice ring to it.
