After one feverish night with Tyler Evans, Rory is never supposed to see the man draped in enigmas and devilish charms again.
Six months later, she's deep into a summer fling with Chace. As their fling becomes a committed relationship, she's adamant...
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Things are much harder than I thought they'd be. I've spent most of my time thinking of ways to confess my love for Chace. My thoughts have ranged between a romantic bubble bath surrounded by rose petals and candles. We'll cuddle and fuck under the warm suds before I confess that I'm recklessly in love with him. Or I could serenade him with sweet music, lead him to the bedroom, and reveal the sexy lingerie that I'm wearing. I'll ride him like I never rode him before and tell him how much I love him. Either way, two things are certain. I want to fuck him, and I want to tell him how much I love him.
Going a week without sex seemed daunting at first. Three days in and I'm fucking dying. I'm not relapsing. I know I'm not. Still, I find masturbation to be a temporary solution to a big problem. Sexual texts and pictures back and forth between us only go so far. I miss Chace. I need him here. To touch, kiss, love. This is about love.
I'm not relapsing.
I told Chace about my dilemma and his answer was the same as before. Hook up with Rosie. I won't mind. It wasn't the answer I needed. Giving in is not an option. I can't let this beat me. Not again.
Tyler has been a decent distraction. He's fun to hang around, but even he can't stop me from thinking about sex. I was so unsettled the other night when we accidentally danced with each other. Even if it was only for a moment, the second I saw it was him, I immediately went back to the night we first met. Despite my lack of attraction to him now, there's no denying how attracted I was to him back then. Part of that girl woke up for just a moment. She came alive with the need to have a reckless and steamy fuck.
Four more days. You can wait four more days.
After taking a cold shower, I prepare for another day with Tyler. I'm lazy with my looks since I have no honest plans. One of Chace's t-shirts, a pair of shorts and slippers are enough for me. I don't even bother with my hair, stuffing it in a lazy bun that threatens to tilt off my head. I should probably comb it, but at this point, I'm too distressed to want to look presentable.
Staying up with Tyler last night let me know that I'm not the only one who misses Chace more than anything. Who needs him more than anything. He is a force of tranquility for everyone.
I find Tyler in the kitchen, shirtless as usual, standing at the stove with a spatula in hand. I sneak over and see he's frying a pan of eggs and sausage. I give him an impressed look. "Good morning. I didn't know you were a cook."
"I'd hardly call this cooking." He knocks his head to the side. "I brewed some coffee. Go ahead and set up a place at the table or something."
Simpering, I skip over to the hot coffee pot on the other side of the counter and fix us both a mug. He's being nice. Civil. I know I've declared our friendship before. I know we've called a truce. It still surprises me to receive Tyler's kindness. Unless this is all a ploy he's pulling to yank the rug from under me later. I fully expected him to try to make my life hell. The second time we met, he declared that he couldn't wait to get me alone. He was dangling our previous intimacy over my head like a threat. The Tyler I have now seems more thrilled about the fact that we have so much in common. I don't think he has many friends.
