Page 23 of Drunk Dialing My Enemy

First I’ll fixthe kitchen sink.

Then I’ll pick out a ring.

Not because my priorities are out of order, but because the jewelry store doesn’t open until ten.

Katie’s sleeping in the bedroom, passed out after a night of passionate fucking.

Actually, the wordfuckingdoesn’t do it justice. What we did was more than sex. We bonded. We shared. I broke all her walls down and she demolished mine, too. And she shared another first with me, something I thought I’d never get another chance to do after I screwed everything up in high school.

The years without Katie have been lonely. Lonelier than I even realized. I didn’t know how cold I was until I felt her warmth again and was reminded of how she brings me back to life.

She makes me want to take risks. And love is always a risk. I know this better than most because of the things I saw my parents go through. Two people who probably should have gotten a divorce a long time ago but won’t, because of their “values.”

Right.Values. Those same values that cause my father to cheat on my mother, and for my mother to look the other way as long as he continues to deposit his considerable paycheck in their shared checking account?

My mother claims they’ve figured out something that works for them. But when I look at them, all I see is everything that I never want for myself. I don’t want a fake arrangement. I don’t want to leave my house in the morning knowing I’m about to betray the one woman I vowed to be loyal to.

As a man, my word is my bond. And from now on, my heart belongs to Katie. It always has. And we’re going to make it official, just as soon as she’ll let me.

I’ve never been so determined in my life.

“I didn’t even tell you that it was broken.”

Her soft voice is behind me. I quickly climb to my feet, dropping my tools on the ground.

“I was going to make coffee,” I explain. “Then I noticed this and got distracted.”

“You don’t have to fix things while you’re here as my guest, you know,” she smiles.

Her red hair is messy in the back and her face is clean and free of any makeup, making her look a bit younger, a bit more innocent. Even though after last night, Katie is less “innocent.” At least, if you’re going by a traditional sort of definition. In my mind, Katie’s still innocent. Just as sweet and pure in her heart as she’s always been.

And me? I can only hope to deserve her. The difference between now and high school, is that now I know I’m not like my father. That I don’t have to be him. I can be the kind of man Katie needs.

“Are you okay?” I ask her, my brow furrowing as I think about last night. Sure, I enjoyed myself. Of course I fucking did. Getting to make love to Katie is all I’ve ever wanted. Now I candie a happy man, knowing I’ve felt those soft curves yielding beneath my palms.

But did she enjoy it, too? Was I too rough? Did I go too hard?

“I’m fine,” she says. “You don’t have to be so worried. I would have told you if something was wrong. And I’m not that fragile, you know!”

To me, you are. The most fragile, most important thing in my life.

Katie can’t understand that. She’s always wanted to be strong. Always insisting on standing on her own two feet and going her own way. She went to fashion school even though just about everyone in her life told her it was the wrong path. No job security. No money.

But she did it anyway. And then she came here and opened her own business. At her age, being a successful owner of a small business is unheard of. But she did it.

So I get it. I understand how Katie could feel like I don’t have to be worried about her. But I do. Because she’s important. Because she matters to me more than anything else.

I gesture to the sink, which is still half taken apart behind me.

“I’ll have to get a part from the store to fix it,” I tell her. “I’m going to do that now. I’ll be right back, so hands off the duct tape.”

Katie holds her hands up, palms out, with a grin.

“No duct tape. I promise.”

I nod. And then because I can’t help myself, I grab her by the hips and whirl her around, pressing her against the edge of the counter and kissing her roughly. She tastes like peppermint toothpaste and sex.

“Coffee,” she gasps when I’m through claiming her mouth. “I need coffee before I can do anything else. Eventhat.”

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