Page 88 of Sex Coach

Thirty

Michelle

I eyed the phone.

There was a cacophony of warring voices in my head, one that argued Jake hadn't trusted me and I couldn't build a relationship with somebody like that .

Another voice scoffed. What relationship ?

But the loudest, most determined voice kept echoing Aunt Blair's voice .

"Maybe you should go after him – and make him believe you ."

Make him believe me .

How?

I wasn't about to beg him. I'd just started to reclaim some of my pride. Begging would put me right back at the bottom again. And I shouldn't have to beg him to give me a chance to speak .

"I'm not calling him," I said to the phone .

Then I picked it up .

"Argh!" Dropping it into my purse, I turned and started to pace .

Another five minutes of waffling passed in which I convinced myself that maybe I could call him – and tell him off. Let him know he'd hurt my feelings and that I cared about him, but he just walked all over me .

Then I could hang up and see what happened .

That was about as honest as I could get .

"Okay, I'll call him." I strode back over to my purse and grabbed the phone .

I hadn't so much as swiped the home screen when my doorbell chimed, announcing a visitor. How much of a shock was it that some small sliver of relief went through me ?

I didn't know what to say to him, how to do what Aunt Blair had suggested – make him believe me .

Dropping the phone back into my purse, I went over to the speaker and pushed the button. Hopefully, it was my aunt or one of my few friends. Somebody who could distract me long enough that my subconscious would figure this Jake thing out on its own .

"Who is it ?"

"Jake."

The bottom dropped out of my stomach, and I gulped. "Um." That was all I had. Um .

A few seconds passed, then he broke the awful silence. "Can I come up? I...there are some things I need to say to you ."

I remembered the last time he had things he needed to say to me .

"I don't know if that's a good idea," I said, the words coming out in a weak voice. And here I'd been trying to work up the courage to call him, trying to pump myself up and figure out the right words to keep him on the phone long enough to get him to believe me .

And he was here now, and I was too afraid .

"Michelle...please ."

Staring at the speaker box, my hand tightening into a fist, I blinked back the tears .

Coward, I thought, but in my mind, I was shrieking it. Shrieking it and hating myself a little for not having the guts to say something big and bold like, Bet your ass you can come up...I got things to say to you too !

---