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I looked in the mirror above my bathroom sink. My reflection blinked slowly as I looked into my own eyes. Could I handle it? Would I get attached to him and go too far?
I couldn’t afford to fall down into that hole again, not when I’d only just clawed back an actual life for myself. I put down my eyeliner and picked up my phone.
“Sorry, I can’t make it tonight, but lunch was fun. Take care.”
I stared at the message I’d typed up, trying to make myself hit send. It was a brushoff text, and I didn’t want to send it, but I knew Ineededto do just that. I let my thumb hover over the send button, closed my eyes, and pushed down.
There. It was done.
The experience at the pub was amazing, eye-opening, something I’d never forget even, but I couldn’t allow anything to jeopardize my sobriety. Nothing else mattered to me more than that. Not even experiencing the most mind-blowing pleasure I’d ever felt could make me give up on myself like that again.
I washed the little bit of makeup I’d put on off of my face, tied my hair up in a messy bun on top of my head and put on fresh pajamas. The plan had been to go out, but now that I was staying in, I decided I’d order food later and watch a movie on my phone. I couldn’t afford a smart TV when I’d first moved in, so I used my phone for that a lot.
An hour later, I was restless and was watching the sun go down from the only window in the living room, a little sad that I hadn’t heard from Johnny. Okay, so it seemed the guy could take a hint. That was good, but I’d kind of hoped he’d reply, at least. Instead, he’d ignored the text and that hurt a little.
He’d seemed so eager to see me again.
Which meant it was good that I’d ended it, then. If he was that uninterested in fighting for me, I’d only end up with a broken heart anyway.
A knock at the door had me getting up from the chair I’d placed in front of the window and walking to the door. It must be the food I’d ordered, so I grabbed some cash from my wallet and went to open the door. “Hi, that was quick…”
But it wasn’t my food.
“What’s the problem?” Johnny asked, leaning against the door frame with a scowl that made him more handsome.
“Uh…,” I looked down at my feet. “Nothing, I thought you were my food being delivered.”
“I can feed you, but I’m not food, Tara.” The smirk he gave me made my knees melt a little, but I stood my ground.
“Why are you here?” I barked the question out, scowling at him with fierce determination not to give in. No matter how tight those blue jeans were around his thighs.
How could a man have such thick, muscular thighs, I wondered, before my eyes traveled up to more intimate parts of him.
“Because you stare at my dick like you’re starving for it, Tara, but tell me to fuck off. Politely, I’ll admit, but you still sent me a message that told me to fuck off. I want to know why.” He crossed his arms over his chest, tucking his hands under his arms. It just showed off how strong his biceps and forearms were. The man was made entirely of muscle, it seemed.
I pulled my eyes away from his body and stared at a spot on the doorframe, trying not to look him in the eye. “There’s things about me you don’t know, Johnny. Things I’m not going to talk to a stranger about. It’s best if we don’t continue this.”
“I’m hardly a stranger, Tara. I can still smell you on my fingers, even though I’ve washed them a dozen times since I left you at the mall.” He held his fingers up to his nose and inhaled. “You’re still there.”
My mouth watered and my face felt like it melted as my brain shut down for a second at his words and the gesture.
“Tell me. Talk to me.” He waited, not making a move to leave or push his way inside. Just waiting.
“I was a drug addict when Ginger found me, freezing to death on the street. I can’t do anything that would jeopardize my sobriety. That includes you, Johnny.” I met his eyes, finally, a plea in them asking for his understanding.
He pulled his lips in between his teeth, a frown of worry between his eyes. With a slight nod, he looked back at me. “What were you using?”
“What does it matter?” I asked in disbelief, a little angry at him. “I don’t want any of it, and I don’t want anything to do with that life, Johnny. That’s what matters.”
“I get it. I just want to know how bad it was.” His spoke calmly, evenly, almost soothing my frazzled nerves.
“I was homeless on the street. That’s how bad it was. And I won’t end up back there, not for you or anybody else. I’m clean now, have been for six months. I plan to keep it that way. So, please, respect that.”
“I do, Tara, I do. I just wonder if you’re not building a wall around yourself that will keep out everyone and everything that could make life worth living?” he asked as though it was the simplest thing in the world. As if my entire life didn’t depend on that fucking wall he’d mentioned.
“I don’t think you understand. But then you wouldn’t would you?” It was an allusion to the line of business he was in, a sign that I knew what they did, but wouldn’t snitch.
“I do, actually.” He stood up straight, arms still crossed, staring down at me. “I wouldn’t allow that to happen, Tara. Never in a million years would I expose you to anything like that.”
