LEAH
The street was dark under the night sky as Jarrod's taillights faded down the street. I watched his departure with a growing snag in my chest.
My head was a mess. My body wanted one thing, while my mind . . . well, it didn't disagree, necessarily. But my rational thoughts were more suspicious and cautious than my vagina and heart.
Jarrod was too good. He knew how to pluck my body like a harp, knew all the right words to say, and gave all the right gifts.
And then, out of the blue, he demanded something ridiculous.
First, it was his list of conditions. Now, this no masturbation thing.
The problem wasn't that I had an addiction to getting myself off. I had no interest in even thinking about sex after the absolute pounding I got yesterday.
My concern lay exactly in what he claimed this was all about: control. He was right. He wanted to control me.
I liked the possessive shit, admittedly. It felt good to be wanted and for that desire to feel unwavering. The look in his eye whenever he'd touch me—it was intoxicating.
And every time I got drunk, something bad happened.
I couldn't shake that his eagerness to put rules on me could lead to something I wouldn't like. I was and always had been an independent creature. While compromise is inevitable in every relationship, living according to someone else's rules was not appealing to me.
But what could I do? My feelings for him were only growing. I liked him. I liked the way he made me feel.
The last thing I wanted was to break up—if we were truly together, and I wasn't sure we were. He'd called himself my boyfriend and he certainly liked to act the part, but we hadn't known each other for that long.
Danny and I had perhaps rushed into things and that might also have contributed to my reluctance. I didn't want to fuck up a good thing as much as I didn't want to jump into a bad thing.
I returned to the kitchen and poured myself a mug of coffee. My gaze drifted to the island and then the floor where the centerpiece now rested from our lascivious activities the night before.
My face burned at the visual. He feasted on my body like a starving man would a cake. Yet, he also stood here and helped me make breakfast. He could be a sex god and a total gentleman.
I steered my feet to the living room and plopped onto the couch. Foxy emerged, jumping onto the armrest beside me. She had been quiet with him around, not that I could blame her. I'd raised her better than to cockblock.
"I'm stumped," I confessed, stroking a hand down her fluffy back. "Good sex, kind heart, but he might be crazy."
She meowed and nuzzled into my hand.
"Honestly, I don't know why I asked. You would sell me out for a can of tuna."
Her body vibrated with a purr. I continued to pet her and sip on my coffee, my worries enshrouding me.
Jarrod was leagues above Danny and any other guy I'd ever met. He made me feel beautiful, always complimenting me and lavishing me with affection, even in public. He was smart and successful. He genuinely cared about people and loved his family—he was even flying to another state to help take care of his sister. He was such a fucking sweetheart.
Not to mention the mind-blowing sex we had every single time we were together.
So what more could I possibly want?
I tried to focus on dissecting my hesitations since all the good things were sorted and understood. If I could figure out what exactly I was scared of, maybe I could work it out.
My mood turned when he asked me to join him today. Why? Well, he wanted me to meet his family.
What was so wrong with that?
We'd only just begun dating. It seemed too early to get our loved ones involved. What if I said something stupid and they didn't like me? Or what if I didn't like them?
Generally, I liked most people and most people liked me. I tried to be a nice, courteous person. Meeting them probably would have been fine.
And how sweet was it that he felt ready to introduce us? Even I could recognize that suggested how much confidence he had in the future of our relationship.
Meeting his family wasn't the first issue, though, was it? There was still the matter of his conditions and his interest in controlling what I did when not around him.
Perhaps the only way to know for sure was to enlist the opinion of someone else. Someone other than my mother, who would want me to be with him simply for the reasons that he had a good career and we could make beautiful grandchildren for her.
I couldn't believe he hadn't met Isabelle nor Ryan, and I hadn't met any of his friends—aside from that awkward interlude when I'd run into him on that blind date. He never really talked about people other than his family, though.
Maybe he just liked to keep his circle small. I could relate to that.
I imagined I would feel better once my friends met him and approved. Not that I needed their approval, but I wanted to make sure I wasn't missing anything. They could help me decide if the flags I saw were truly red or more of an orange or yellow.
Sighing, I decided to punctuate these thoughts by calling my mother. She could help distract me.
She answered on the first ring. "Hello, favorite daughter."
"I'm your only daughter, but hi. What're you up to?"
"Well, I just woke up and let Baxter out. I'm drinking some coffee and watching the sun rise over the lake." She cleared the rasp in her throat. "Why are you doing up so early, my little night owl?"
"Pretty much the same, minus the lake. I didn't sleep much."
"Aw. Bad dreams?"
I swallowed back something sarcastic, grinning. "No, just insomnia, I guess."
"Make sure you take some melatonin and magnesium tonight then. You need your sleep!"
"I will, Mom," I said, chuckling. "What are you and Dad doing today?"
"Well, he thought it would be a great idea to throw a poker party tonight, so it looks like I'll be upstairs snuggling a bottle of wine on the couch. You're welcome to make the trek home if you want to give your poor mom some company."
"I'd love to, but I don't think I have it in me to make the drive today."
"Oh, I understand. It's a long way. How is your head and your ribs?" she asked.
"Pretty much."
"Very good. That doctor took great care of you, didn't he?"
My lips curled at the mention of him. "He sure did."
"Goodness, he was so handsome, too. What are they feeding young men these days, anyway?"
"Mom!" I choked with laughter.
"What?" She laughed. "Maybe I can add it to your father's meals."
We laughed for a few seconds before settling down again. I considered keeping my thoughts to myself, but something urged me to share with her.
I took a deep breath. Asking for help wasn't my forte. From a young age, I'd been independent and learned how to do things on my own. I always wanted them to be proud of me and see what I was capable of on my own.
This was different. I was out of my league here and while I didn't necessarily trust my mother's judgment, she had my best intentions in mind. I could always say the same for my friends, it seemed.
"Mom, I need some advice."
"Sure, sweetie," my mom said. "Is something wrong?"
"No . . . I don't think so, at least." I picked at a loose string on my sweatpants, wetting my lips. "It has to do with that doctor, actually."
"Oh! Lord, he didn't diagnose you with cancer, did he?
"What? No." I chuckled. "We kind of started . . . seeing each other."
"OMG!" she gasped. "I'm so proud of you!"
Snorting, I rolled my eyes. "Thanks? We've been out together a few times now and we get along well. I like him."
"But? What's the problem?"
"Well . . ."
"Did you have sex? Was his penis too small? Did he hurt you? Is he married? Does he have kids?"
"No! It's nothing like any of that!"
I blushed, realizing I insinuated he did not have a small penis, which insinuate we had in fact had sex. It wasn't a big deal, but we usually didn't that personal about my romantic life.
"He's perfect in a lot of ways. I need advice because—it sounds stupid, but I guess I'm trying to find the 'but.' He's too good to be true."
"My, my," she cooed. "You've been shot by Cupid, baby."
"I'm serious! I'm scared that I'm going to get too deep into this and then have my heart snapped in half all over again. And I haven't even fully recovered from Danny. It feels right but also fast." I groaned. "Tell me what I should do."
"You know what I'm going to say, sweetie."
"Follow my heart and go with gut."
"Exactly. It sounds like you're really into this man. He seemed perfectly nice and professional when I met him. You're right to be cautious, but don't let Danny hold you back any longer than he has already. He is the one who broke up with you. You are free to do whatever you want, whenever you want."
"You're right." I felt better already. "I guess I'm just trying to self-sabotage."
"Don't! You deserve to embrace your happiness," she said. "But to be clear, he hasn't said or done something that's put you on guard, has he?"
"No . . . I mean, there have been a few interesting things he's said. Not anything crazy or threatening. Just interesting."
"Such as?"
"He seems a little possessive and jealous," I admitted. "He's had the misfortune of running into Danny twice now and neither were pleasant instances."
"Did they fight? Cuss each other out?"
"Neither of them would do that. It was just tense and awkward."
"Honey, Danny was no good for you and it makes sense that your new boyfriend would not be comfortable or friendly in such a situation. I wouldn't hold that against him."
"I don't. But that's not the only thing."
My stomach churned. Did I seriously want to get into this with my mother?
"On with it," she encouraged me.
"When he told me he wanted to be with me, he gave me a list of conditions. Like rules, basically."
Her silence left my pulse faltering. "What kind of rules?"
"They make sense, but I just don't like the idea of having to comply with rules."
"What are the rules, honey?" she said more firmly.
I sighed. "He wants us to be exclusive, he forbids me from turning away gifts, and anytime we are apart, he wants me to periodically check in with him."
"Well. Those don't sound terrible."
"I know. It's stupid, I just—"
"I think the problem is not the rules," she said. "It is the reason he wants to have them in the first place that is the concern. It sounds like he may have some trust issues. Maybe he's been hurt in the past."
He had mentioned his ex before. That would explain some of his mistrust and need for control.
"You're probably right," I said.
"You should ask him about it. If he wants to be in a relationship with you and he's a good man, he'll be honest."
I nodded. "I will. He's in Florida visiting his family right now, but I'm sure I'll see him soon."
"And he's a family man?" A dreamy sigh filtered through the line. "I can see the wedding already. Just imagine the grandbabies. They would be adorable."
Laughing, I rolled my eyes. "We're nowhere near talking about kids."
"I'm just staying! But anyway, let me know how it goes. Follow your heart and trust your intuition!"
"I know, I will. Thanks for talking me off the cliff, Mom."
"Always. I love you, sweetie."
"Love you, too."
We hung up and I sank into the couch cushions with a deep breath. Foxy climbed into my lap and pushed her silky head under my hand. Some of the weight had lifted off my shoulders.
Although I didn't know the particulars of his relationship with his ex, it made sense that he would insist on having rules to protect himself. I didn't have a problem with any of the rules, truly. They were things that would be assumed or implied in normal relationships.
Jarrod could be everything I'd always wanted. I just had to trust myself and him.
My phone vibrated from beside me. I leaned over, careful not to spill my coffee, and saw a Facebook Messenger notification.
I rarely used the app, but an occasional message would come through from some distant aunt or cousin. When I saw the name, though, it didn't match anyone I knew or could think of.
Humming, I clicked on the notification.
New message from Tiffany García.