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The way Jake had treated me during sex on the morning of my parents’ anniversary hadn’t been forgotten. After we returned home, he’d been more affectionate and tender, but I hadn’t let him get between my legs. His persistence had made me feel icky and vulnerable. I had been afraid he might take what he wanted.
In a sense, I’d felt trapped and controlled.
Now that Jake was gone, I didn’t have him watching my every move. I could finally breathe and think.
Cade still meant everything to me. I knew it the second he hugged me. Sure, he’d pissed me off during dinner, but I could tell it was because he still loved me and hated seeing me with Jake.
When we danced during the party, relief had washed over me, and I felt whole again.
How could I let weeks go by without texting him, at the very least?
Fear, of course. I couldn’t imagine a reasonable solution for us to be together. We were thousands of miles apart.
I’d changed.
He’d changed.
What if we’d lost our spark, our magic?
You need to call Cade.
What if it’s pointless and my heart will get broken all over again?
I shook the painful thoughts from my head, got up to take a shower, and dressed for the day. I’d always believed if Cade and I were meant to be, we’d find our way back to each other. Just never thought it would take more than a decade. I needed to find out if we stood a chance just as I had to come to California to see if I could achieve my goals.
I’ll call him later…
By noon, I had cleaned the kitchen, which didn’t need cleaning. It was me trying to expel my nervous energy. Then I paid some bills, surfed the Internet, and made myself a tequila sunrise with a double shot of alcohol. It was five o’clock somewhere, and I needed to take my mind off my problems with the help of my good buddy, Patrón.
I turned on country music and “Somethin’ Bad” streamed through the speakers. With my drink in hand, I danced aroundthe living room singing along with Carrie Underwood, and wishing my dance partner, Cade, was with me.
Feeling good and relaxed with half my drink gone, I grabbed my phone and dialed Martina’s number. Voicemail,crap. So I left her a message.
“Hey, chica! Dancing sounds fun. Let’s do it tonight! Call me!”
Music and dancing were like food for my soul. I shouldn’t be afraid to nourish my body and have a little fun. Jake had given me permission to go out. Hell, he’d insisted I go shopping and max out his credit card. Hanging with Martina should be fine.
My glass was almost empty, so I made another and continued my dance party for one. The effects of the alcohol hit me hard with an empty stomach, but I welcomed the feeling of being weightless and mindless.
Around three o’clock, I still hadn’t heard from Martina. I was on my third sunrise and lying on the sofa, blissfully relaxed.
A buzzing sound made my ears perk up. I froze, trying to figure out where it was coming from, then realized it was my phone. Hoping it was Martina, I quickly reached for it and deflated when I saw it was Jake.
“Hey.” I crossed my arm over my eyes, frustrated with myself for answering it. I could’ve pretended like I wasn’t available and let it go to voicemail. But I was tipsy thanks to my buddy Patrón and not thinking clearly.
“Hey yourself, beautiful. How are you on this fine afternoon?” he said, amusement in his voice.
“I’m waiting for Martina to call so we can go out dancing!” A giggle flitted out of my mouth and I slapped my hand over it, but it wasn’t enough to keep me from talking. “I’m going to rock the dance floor.” More giggling. Louder giggling.
“Have you been drinking?”
“Damn straight I have! Three tequila sunrises so far and I’m about to make number five.”
“Five doesn’t come after three,” he snapped.
“I mean, number four.” I inhaled a deep breath to gain control of myself.
“This isn’t like you. You’re in no condition to go out,” he told me in an authoritative tone.
