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Maybe, but this isn't why I haven't moved on. It's some broken thing inside me. An inability to feel the things I'm supposed to feel. "If that's what you want."
"I want to meet at a hotel bar. But I know… I know you have to go. Have fun in Las Vegas, okay." Her laugh is soft. It sayswe both know this is the only kind of fun you know how to have. "Find a stranger at a hotel bar. Do this for real."
Right. That's what people do in Las Vegas. They fuck with abandon.
And that's something I know how to do. That's the only thing I know how to do, really. The only way I know how to satisfy a woman.
But I'm fucking good at it.
Really fucking good at it.
"Are you okay?" she asks. "I know you only have a minute, but I… I do hope we'll always be friends."
"Of course." I take a deep breath and push my other thoughts aside. It's not her fault I don't feel the right things. It's not her fault this plan I'm following doesn't work. I'm supposed to be at a different phase of my life. Married. Stable. Safe.
I'm just not.
It's me.
I just don't know how to change it. "Take care, Maddie."
"You too." She ends the call.
The silence echoes through the room. It underlines the size and emptiness of my house.
Why is it so empty? I followed the plan. I walked the steps. I just don't get it.
I clean up, I dress, I take calm breaths. To center myself.
There's one thing I can't handle: Chaos.
And this trip to Las Vegas is sure to bring a lot. I need to keep my head on straight. Especially because—
Right on cue, the doorbell rings. I peek out the front door, and I see her.
Daphne, on the front steps, all tall and long and tempting.
Four days in Las Vegas. All that chaos and the only way I know how to center myself is sex—
And the woman I want more than any other is right there.
And I can't touch her.
This isn't smart. I should get out of it.
But I can't. I have to white-knuckle it.
I'm a grown-up. I can do that. In theory.
Chapter Three
Jackson
After I repeat my new mantra a few times, I answer the door for Daphne.
She responds with a smile that destroys my resolve. She looks far too good in her trendy high-waist shorts and her thin tank top. She's all long, slim curves and confidence. It's right there, in her perfect smile, her big round sunglasses, her long light hair.
She's in hot pink wedges, even though she's taller than almost every man she knows.
