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I frown, look back at the ocean, then at her. “Oh, shoot! I’m not jumping. I swear. I was just enjoying the sun,” I hurry to explain when I understand what she means. “God, I’m not trying to kill myself.” I step away from the steep rocky ground and reach her.

“Thank God. I thought you were going to jump.” She half-laughs, shaking her head.

“I swear I’m not.” I mean, life sucks right now, especially after last night with Ice barking and threatening me, but I’m notthatdesperate.

I take a good look at her. She is in her mid-fifties, in hiking clothes, with long blond hair gathered in a messy bun on her head.

“Are you hiking up to the stables?” I know there is a ranch open to the public not far from here.

She shakes her head. “No, I’m just taking my daily hike, and when I saw you, I wasn’t sure if I should talk to you or tackle you to the ground,” she laughs.

“Do I look that desperate that I’d jump off a cliff?” I smile at her.

“No, but you look sad,” she admits.

I nod. “Just a bad night. That’s all.”

“If he makes you so gloomy, dump him. Life is too short to chase after an asshole. I made that mistake three times. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.” She nods knowingly while she starts to walk toward the trail.

I chuckle. “Thank you for the advice. I’ll keep it in mind.”

She winks at me, waves, and then goes on with her hike. I look at her back until she disappears from sight. She has no idea how far from the truth she is.

I gave up on relationships a long time ago, when I realized that I can’t get into anything serious if I can’t talk about my past. At some point in every relationship, you want to know the other person on a deeper level. You’re curious about their childhood, family, girlfriends or boyfriends in high school.

I can’t go there. When they ask about the first twenty-one years of my life, I have to lie. I’m twenty-nine and I can only talk about the last eight years. And they’re not exciting or memorable. Far from it. I tried to date a sweet guy once, but when things got serious, I started to avoid answering his questions for fear of tripping over my lies. He suspected something was off and dumped me. I couldn’t blame him. Somethingisoff about my life.

***

I walk into the living room of the apartment I share with Lola and find my roommate trying to fit into a latex corset that I’m sure is at least a couple of sizes too small.

“Can you even breathe?” I ask, helping her zip it up.

“Sort of,” she whispers, clearly not enough air in her lungs to speak like a normal person.

She tries to bend to put on her high-heeled boots, but she can’t even reach them before the corset’s zipper gives up and explodes, exposing her back.

“Shit!” she curses, turning her head trying to take a look at the damage.

“It’s beyond saving,” I announce, and her shoulders drop, followed by her head.

“I hoped I still could fit into this,” she pouts.

“When was the last time you tried it on?” I arch my eyebrow.

“Ten years ago. I was fifteen. But I didn’t gain that much weight!” She seems almost offended by my face as I try to hold back a laugh.

“No, but you probably have more boobs than when you were a teenager!” I chuckle.

I help her take off the culprit and she sighs. “Change of plans. The red top or the green lace one?” She points to two pieces of fabric on the couch.

They’re both sexy and daring, exactly like she is. I’ve never known someone more confident than her, and I love that about her. She doesn’t like drama; she knows what she wants and she definitely doesn’t throw a fit when something doesn’t go her way. I need someone like that making my life easier.

“The red one,” I say without a doubt as I sit on the couch.

She removes her bra and puts on the top. I like how she doesn’t care if she flashes her boobs at me. I do envy her carefree spirit.

She swirls around a couple of times. “What do you think?” she asks expectantly.