Page 13 of The Keeper

Font Size:  


a party with strangers?



I should not have done that. Her kissing me I could explain. Me following her, getting in the cab, kissing her back? That’s on me.

I could blame it on the beer I had, but honestly? I wasn’t drunk. Not even close.

I shove my hands in my pockets and slouch down the road in the direction I think my apartment might be. It’s probably a mile walk but I need the air. What the heck was I thinking? Seriously. I just told Em we would make this work, and here I am kissing someone else.

Maybe I’m just lonely. Yeah, that’s all it is. I don’t have anyone here. No friends. I haven’t bonded with the team. I don’t have family here. It’s just loneliness. And she was nice to me. She liked me a little. Enough to dance with me.

And kiss me.

Ugh. I’m an idiot.

You liked it, though.

Cal Lefleur, professional idiot. Also, colossal moron.

I give myself the mental smackdown while I wander around a city I don’t know, feeling lost and starting to panic when I realize I don’t actually have any idea where I am. Christ. I need a routine. I need to get into a pattern. I need people around me who can help me navigate my life.

This isn’t going to work. Being here in Las Vegas with no one.

That’s all that kiss was. A moment of weakness because I felt alone. Em and I have been together for almost three years, and although I can sense her pulling away now, it hasn’t always been that way. I’ve never looked or touched another woman.Never been tempted.


Finally, I give up and hail a cab, giving my address and then feeling stupid when I realize I was only two blocks from my building.

When I fall into bed, the whole night catches up to me instantly. My head hits the pillow and I’m out.

I wake up disoriented, face down on my bed, still in my clothing from the night before. After taking a long, too-hot shower before shuffling to the kitchen to get something to eat. I stare at my cell phone for a long time, contemplating calling my agent.Will this restlessness ever disappear?

Still, the moneyisgood. The contract is good. And if I can play here for a year or two, I can save a ton, then go back home. I settle on calling Emily instead.

“Good morning, Cal.” She sounds sleepy.

“Hello, love. How are you this morning?”

“Tired,” she says, yawning for punctuation. “I stayed up way too late last night.”

“Doin’ what?”

“I had some of my classmates over. We played games and drank wine and ate crappy Chinese food while bitching about our thesis projects.”

“Oh? Sounds fun, I guess.”

“It was.”

I try to push back the bitterness I feel, knowing she was surrounded by friends and having a good time without me. “I went out and saw a band.”

“That’s good. You love live music. Were they any good?”

“They were, in fact. I went to an after party with them after their set”

Articles you may like