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“It’s nothing. I met him last week. We haven’t done anything.” I chuckled ruefully. “Well, nothing really serious, anyway,” I said, blushing.

The memory of Nate, half-naked and wet, his lips on mine as his towel slipped lower and lower, filled my mind. I squirmed in the chair.

“I need info,” Lesley said, an eager smile on her face. “Who’s this guy? What’s he like?”

“He’s…” How to describe him? “Well, if I’m honest, he’s really fucking hot.”

Lesley laughed. “I need more than that. Eye color, height, the whole nine yards.”

“Gray eyes, sandy-brown hair that’s always messy from his motorcycle helmet.”

“No freaking way.” Lesley grinned. “You’ve got the hots for a biker? Is he one of those burly, bearded, dad-bod bikers?”

“Uh, no.” My cheeks went red. “He’s fit. Like, super fit. The guy looks like he’s never seen a cheeseburger, much less eaten one. He gave me a ride,” I added with a smile.

Lesley raised an eyebrow. “On the bike, or…” She waggled her eyebrows.

“ Stop ! The bike, of course. I told you we hadn’t done anything.” I looked at the floor, my face flaming, then I gave her an embarrassed shrug. “Well, that’s not exactly true. We might have kissed.”

“No way.” Lesley gaped at me like I’d told her I’d won the lottery. “You just kissed?”

Well, fuck. I’d already started the story. Might as well finish it.

“Uh…” I had to look away, unable to keep eye contact. “I might have… sort of… humped his leg until I came. We were fully clothed. Shit, I mean, I guess I was fully clothed. He was only wearing a towel.”

“Good lord,” Lesley said, laughing and clapping her hands with glee. “My sweet little friend is turning into a nympho. I’m so proud.”

“Shut up.” I tossed a piece of toast at her. “It felt really good in the moment, but after, I… well, I felt guilty.”

She frowned at me. “Why?”

“Because I’d broken up with Rick four hours before I started humping a new guy.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Okay. Yeah, I get why you’d feel guilty about that, but it just confirms that what you and Rick had wasn’t real.” She reached over the table and squeezed my hand.

“I guess,” I said. “There’s something about Nate that draws me to him.”

“Is it just his good looks? Or something more? What’s this new guy like in here?” she asked, tapping her forehead.

“That’s the thing,” I said. “Nate has secrets, too. I know next to nothing about his past or who he really is. It’s like he’s guarding that, but for some reason, that doesn’t hurt as much as Rick’s secret.

Nate’s secretiveness feels more like he’s protecting himself.

Rick’s was more like keeping me in the dark on purpose.

Even if Rick said it was for my own good, I can’t help but think it was a little like he wanted to treat me like a child. ”

“Plus,” Lesley said, “there’s a difference between a guy you met last week sharing stuff about himself and the guy you were two steps away from being married to hiding shit. Did this new guy at least tell you he had secrets?”

“Yeah.”

“Did Rick? Before last night?”

“No.”

“Well, this Nate guy sounds more honest than most men when you start dating them.”

I didn’t correct her on that. Nate and I weren’t dating. Her point was well taken, though.

Rubbing at the bruises on my arm, I said, “I may have some feelings for him. More intense than anything I felt for Rick.”

Lesley ignored me, her gaze pinned on my arm. “Why are you rubbing your biceps like that?”

I yanked my hand away. “No reason.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What’s wrong with your arm?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said, and even to my own ears, I sounded guilty. Like I was the one hiding things now.

She stood, pushing her chair back, and circled the table until she was right beside me. “Show me your arm.”

Smiling awkwardly, I said, “I was, uh, I was just itchy.”

She huffed a sigh, then before I could stop her, she grabbed the hem of the sweatshirt and yanked it over my head. She moved so fast that I didn’t have time to fight her.

“What the hell, Lesley?” I demanded.

“I should be asking you that,” she hissed, pointing at my arm.

Four blue lines ran around the outside of my biceps, and a fifth smaller line ran into the soft inner side of my arm. Rick’s hand. Imprinted on me from the night before when he grabbed me.

Lesley trembled with barely contained rage as she stared at the injury. “Did that motherfucker lay hands on you, Cam?”

“It’s… it’s not what you think,” I said, cringing at how weak and stupid that sounded. Of course it was what she thought.

“That’s the person you wanted as your partner?

The guy you wanted taking care of you and your family?

” Lesley crossed her arms and glared at me.

“That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?

To be with a guy who would stick around and take care of you, unlike those other men who left you high and dry?

That,” she pointed at the bruises, “is not something a partner would do. It’s what controlling douchebags do. Good riddance to that fucker.”

Tears filled my eyes, a dam of emotion pouring through me as her words slammed home. She was right. I’d definitely made the right choice in breaking up with Rick.

“Can I have the shirt back, please?” I whispered.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Here.” Lesley helped get the sweatshirt back on, and for several moments, I sat there, hugging myself.

An alarm went off on Lesley’s phone, breaking the moment. She glanced at it and cursed. “Dammit. I’ve got an appointment, and I can’t reschedule.” She knelt and looked into my eyes. “Hang out here as long as you want. Take a walk, whatever you need to do. Okay?”

I nodded, wiping at my face. “I’m sorry I messed up your weekend.”

“You didn’t mess up anything. I’m just pissed I have to go and leave you here like this.”

Reaching out, I took her hand. “I’m good. Seriously. Go on. I’ll be fine. For real.”

She studied me for a few moments, obviously weighing the truth of my words. Finally, she said, “Okay. I’ll only be gone a few hours. You’re free to steal any clothes you want to. Shoes, too—we’re the same size. But you’re positive you’ll be good?”

“Lesley, go. You’ll make me feel worse if you’re late for your appointment. Go.” I started nudging her toward the door.

“All right.” She grabbed her stuff and headed toward the door. “Do what I said. Get some fresh air or something, and have a good long think about what and who you want in your future. Got it?”

“Got it, boss lady.”

“Smartass,” she said with a grin, then closed the door behind her.

I forced myself to eat. My appetite had vanished, but if I didn’t eat something, I’d end up with an awful headache.

Worse than the one already thudding in my skull.

The constant nausea had caused me to lose a few pounds the last week.

Assuming Nate was right about the test, hopefully those symptoms would vanish when whatever was happening to me was over.

After eating, I did all the dishes—a small thank you to Lesley—and sat on her couch with a second cup of coffee that I doused with cream and sugar. My phone, discarded in the night when I arrived at Lesley’s, sat on the end table. She’d even plugged it in for me.

“I guess I should see what I missed,” I muttered to myself.

I’d missed a lot . Twenty unread texts and thirteen missed calls. All from Rick’s number. Groaning inwardly, I opened the texts.

Rick: Cameron, talk to me. Please. I can explain.

Rick: Are you going to answer me???

Rick: I’m so sorry. I should have told you. Please text back.

Rick: Why aren’t you answering your phone? I tried calling. Are you hurt?

The messages became steadily more angry and aggressive.

Rick: Enough. Call me. NOW!!!

Rick: Dammit, Cam. I’m tired of this. I’ve said I’m sorry. Until you talk to me, I can’t apologize anymore. I checked all the hospitals and you weren’t there. At least you aren’t hurt. I’m calling your mom next. I don’t care how late it is.

Rick: Your mom said she hasn’t seen you. Where are you? I’m getting upset now.

He was getting upset? How dare he? He’s the one who lied to me for months. He didn’t even care about my mental well-being. The only concern he showed was for my bodily health. That was the least of my trouble. I’d rather break every bone in my body than go through what I did the night before.

There was one last text.

Mom: Your pendejo ex-boyfriend woke me up last night looking for you. Is this rich asshole not taking the hint?

I could leave Rick hanging, but Mom was different. I didn’t want her to be scared. I shot her a quick message to make sure she didn’t freak out.

Me: I spent the night at Lesley’s. Rick and I had a fight. We’re still broken up. See you guys later. Love you.

I didn’t even bother listening to the voicemails. Hearing Rick’s voice would only increase the rage bubbling through me.

My body was achy and tight, but in a good way.

Like after a workout. It took a second for me to realize it was from the run the night before.

Sprinting barefoot down the street for half a mile after discovering my boyfriend was a shifter had been the first real exercise I’d had since the night Lesley and I did yoga.

The last hour before my life turned completely upside down.

With all the chaos and stress of the last week, a workout was exactly what I needed. The depression that threatened to overwhelm me screamed for me to lie down, take a nap, binge some TV. The driven side of my mind told me to get up and move. It would make me feel better.

Screw Nate’s warning, too. I’d stay out in the open, around other people. No garages or alleyways. Just me, the sun, and the pavement. I couldn’t outrun my problems, but I could clear my mind.