Page 492 of Not Over You

4. My body is yours to own, so long as you treat me with respect and expose me to more filthy-fun activities. (Side note, let’s chill on the butt stuff for now. I am hurting today and your cock is too large. I’m willing to reassess at a later point though, not taking it completely off the table.)

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5. We take this journey one day at a time, living life to its fullest and appreciating each other.

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XOXO, Bambi

412-555-6969

Three Months Later

Pools of honey-coated amber burn into me. His demanding features are everything I remember. Every sharp angle and alluring edge. My fingers itch to glide over his soft lips, even as his cutting gaze slices through my chest, cleaving it open. Phantom wisps of pleasure and pain zing through my overworked system, and I have to remind myself to breathe. Remind myself that he isn’t really here in front of me and to put the flimsy plywood back over that irrelevant chasm of loss splitting me down the middle. That way I can pretend I haven’t felt its depths every damn day since I got back to Los Angeles. He never called, and it’s madness to endure the loss of something you never truly had. I’m fucking sick of it.

I flip off the giant portrait of the tattooed stranger whose name I never learned, sticking my tongue out and reveling in my petty ways. Hey, if it makes me feel marginally better, then fuck it, I’m gonna do it.

“I wish you’d go back to Mexico and find him,” Lucy mutters from behind me.

I give a proper yelp and spin around, clutching at my chest. “Holy hell, Luce, you scared the living shit out of me.” I bend forward and suck in precious air as my heart beats out of rhythm.

Confusion tugs at her features and her emerald eyes shine with concern for me. “Sorry. I thought you heard me calling your name. I said it a few times when I came in.”

Nope, I definitely did not. But that happens when I’m drowning in my own pity party. Enough is enough. I slap on a fake smile and shrug noncommittally. “What are you doing here?”

The alley door swings open and I startle again. Sheesh, I’m not usually this jumpy. What the hell is going on with me? The rest of my babes walk in, and now it’s my turn to be confused. “What are all of you doing here?”

“Like we were going to skip out on helping you set up for your event tomorrow. Do you even know us?” Jesse asks with a grin.

“I guess, but I told you guys I had this. You didn’t need to take time away to help, I know you’re all busy.” I don't mention that I really wanted to put these portraits up alone so I didn’t have to keep my emotions on lock.

“Hey, you okay?” Scarlett asks as she wraps me up in a hug.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I mumble against her shoulder and pull back.

“Liar,” Jesse coughs into her hand and I shoot her a glare.

“I don’t want to talk about him, okay? I just want to hang these canvases and get prepared for tomorrow.” I gesture towards the portraits leaning against the wall.

“One more question, and then I won’t say another word, I solemnly swear it,” Jesse promises.

I ignore her—knowing that she’ll ask whether I say yes or no, so why say anything at all—and grab the next portrait to hang.

“Why won’t you at least try to find him? We’ve never seen you as conflicted as you were when you got back from Puerto Vallarta. You were glowing, but there was also this taint of sadness underlining it.”

“Because it’s been three months. If he was interested, he would’ve called by now.”

My effort to keep the bitter tone out of my words is lacking—evidenced by the varying levels of sympathy lining my best babes’ features. I swallow past the knot in my throat and shield my expression in favor of tinkering with the portrait, subtly adjusting it left and right as if it’s uneven. It’s not.

An acidic tang coats my tongue, filled with regret and resentment. Fuck him for making me feel something. I’ve spent the better part of the last three months convincing myself it was just sex, nothing more. Let me tell you, lying to yourself never truly works, but fuck if I’m going to stop trying.

“I still don't understand why you didn't go back to the tequila farm before you left,” Jesse grumbles.

I’m sort of shocked she’s pushing so hard. Normally, she’s the one to hit it and quit it. She rarely does seconds unless it was mind blowing. He was mind blowing, my brain reminds me unhelpfully.

“He had the note, if he wanted to see me, he could've called. He didn’t, and what was I supposed to do? Call the Jiménez Casa Agavera farm and ask for a tattooed giant with a perpetual scowl and burning amber eyes? No. Please just drop this. I need to focus on the event tomorrow night, not this.” I cross my arms over my chest and rub my hands up and down the outside of my biceps. I need a vacation soon. I’m all twitchy which only happens when the walls are pushing in on me.

“Drop it, Jesse. Let Rumor live her life as she wants to,” Lucy says.

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