Page 29 of Surrender

Actually, I’d nearly kissed him today. Would that have been a mistake?

I wanted to talk to someone about it, so I thought about calling Roger. But since he was friends with both Tracy and me, he couldn’t exactly offer an unbiased opinion.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and posted a quick selfie with Phil before scrolling through my contacts. There were plenty of names, but nearly all of them had something to do with my job. It had seemed like I’d had a busy social life whenI lived in LA. There were parties, dinners, and other events every weekend, but they were hosted by clients or colleagues and nothing more than a chance to network.

I kicked off my sneakers and sighed as I stretched out beside Phil. I had too much time to think. That was the problem. The lack of friends hadn’t bothered me when I was working seven days a week and busting my ass to make my business a success.

My head was on Tracy’s pillow, and his clean scent caught my attention. It was familiar and comforting.

What was I going to do about this man?

I’d been attracted to him right from the start, and the more time we spent together, the more that attraction grew. I kept telling myself I couldn’t start anything with him because in a matter of weeks my new business was going to consume me… but maybe that was just an excuse.

The fact was, I’d spent my whole life avoiding anything beyond superficial relationships. The lack of friends in my contact list was a testament to that. My only long-term friend was Roger, and that worked for one simple reason—we lived separate lives in different cities and could go months on end without a word. Neither of us took that personally, and we always picked up right where we left off when one of us finally reached out.

I hadn’t thought my life was empty. I met lots of people and built connections. It was all surface level, but that was what I wanted.

Why? Because I’d learned early on that the people you loved left you—my dad, my brother, my sister, even my mom when she got her new family. They’d all left in different ways and for different reasons, but it cut deep, every single time.

There was a solution though, a way to keep from getting hurt again. All I had to do was avoid getting close to anyone. I’doperated under that philosophy all of my adult life, consciously or unconsciously, and it had served me well.

And now, my attraction to Tracy was throwing me for a loop. I didn’t want to get attached to him. That would just set me up for potential heartbreak.

But maybe we could still enjoy each other, if he was willing…

I closed my eyes and pressed my face to his pillow, breathing in his scent. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I had a feeling things between us were going to change very soon—one way or another.

Sometime later, I woke with a start to find Tracy standing beside me. “Hi, Goldilocks.” He sounded amused. “What are you doing in my bed?”

I sat up and mumbled, “This is where Phil was when I came home.” Of course, the cat was currently nowhere to be seen. “I sat down to say hi to him, and I guess I fell asleep. What time is it?”

“About ten-thirty.”

“I can’t believe I slept the whole day away.” I climbed off the bed and finally focused on Tracy. “You’re soaking wet.”

“The rain you mentioned turned out to be a torrential downpour. I’m going to warm up with a hot shower.”

“Come find me when you’re done. I’ll make us some hot tea.”

Surprisingly, he said, “Sounds great.” Usually, he made an excuse whenever I tried to do something nice for him.

I left his bedroom and found my traitorous cat sitting on the kitchen counter. “You know you’re not supposed to be up there,” I told him, as I filled the kettle. “Also, thanks for leaving me alone in Tracy’s room and making me look like a complete weirdo.”

Phil stared at me for a moment. Then he stuck his back leg straight into the air and started licking himself while maintaining eye contact. I sighed and muttered, “Lovely.”

Tracy joined me a few minutes later, dressed in grey sweatpants, a blue Henley, and thick socks. As he took a seat beside me on the couch, he gestured at the tray I’d prepared and asked, “Are those cookies, and if so, is this some sort of cry for help?”

He’d dubbed my diet “absurdly healthy,” and as much as I would have liked to contradict him, I had to admit, “They’re actually high-fiber, high-protein, multigrain bars.”

“Are they sweet or savory?”

“Sweet…ish.”

“What do you think would happen if you ate a real cookie? Would your millions of followers call you a fitness fraud and disown you?”

“No, but I try to set a good example. I posted this recipe and a how-to video for them a couple of days ago. It’d be pretty hypocritical if I touted these, then turned around and smashed a plate of snickerdoodles.”

Tracy grinned. “I love those.”

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