Page 15

I met Jayson Daniels on a rainy night in his bar called The Drop. I’d decided to do a casual piece for my boss on the best places to stop for a drink while in Charlotte and his bar was number three on the list.

That night, he served me the best cocktails to taste-test. I didn’t miss the way his eyes connected with mine as he poured the liquor. Or the way he licked his bottom lip and held my gaze as he mixed everything together. The way he teased and joked, shooting his game, was flattering.

That same night, he led me to his office to conduct the interview in a “quieter” space.

Before I knew it, my knees were parted and he was between my thighs, his tongue colliding with mine and my fingers threading through his dreads.

I like to blame it on the drinks, but truth of the matter is I wanted him—pure and simple.

Jayson was unlike any man I’d ever met. He could be greedy but not selfish.

Dominant but never overdid it. He made my toes curl the first time we had sex in an uptown hotel, and things hadn’t been the same since.

To put it simply, being separated from a cheating husband wasn’t so intolerable with a snack like Jayson around.

How we acted in that hotel the first night was exactly how we were now.

My ass planted on the dining table, panties removed, his boxers lowered so he could bury himself deeper inside me.

As soon as I swung the door open when he arrived, he cupped my face in his large hands and kissed me.

Passionately. Thoroughly. And with our lips still locked, he shut the door and picked me up to place me on the dining table.

I mentally apologized to Alex Reed and any other person who had to eat at that table because we didn’t care about the mess we made or what might get broken in the process.

“Damn, I missed you,” Jayson breathed in the crook of my neck. We panted raggedly, both of us having reached our peak.

I smiled, unsure what to say to that. If I expressed how much I missed him, that would take things a step further.

I did miss him. But saying it out loud was risky considering how fragile my trust was.

Not that I didn’t trust Jayson in a sense.

He seemed like an honest man. In fact, the first night we slept together, we’d lain naked under the sheets afterward, discussing personal tidbits about our lives.

When my emotions had gotten the best of me, I told him about my separation and how I’d found my husband cheating on me with my best friend in our house.

Then I got on the topic of losing my mom when I was fourteen because of a fire, and that’s what truly bonded us: the loss of our mothers. He’d lost his mom in 2009 to cancer.

When he pulled himself free and stepped back, I climbed off the table and picked my panties and leggings up from the floor. “So are you going to stay both nights or just tonight?” I asked, side-eyeing him.

“Just tonight.” He slipped into his boxers as I tugged my panties up. “Wish I could stick around both nights, but the bar needs me. Big corporate party tomorrow. They rented out the whole place and I have to make sure they don’t destroy my shit.”

I laughed. “I get that.”

He smiled down at me with those warm brown almond eyes. His hair was freshly tapered at the edges, his dreadlocks bound in two strands with rubber bands on the ends. His skin was light brown, the hair above his lips lined precisely. Curling a muscled arm around me, he reeled me close and kissed me.

I kissed him back, moaning softly. “I should shower,” I said when our lips parted.

“Can I join?”

I laughed behind the next kiss. “If you want.”

Our mouths drifted apart but his hovered above mine.

He smirked. “I’ll let you have a moment,” he murmured. “I’ll make us something to eat while you shower. That cool?”

“I would love that.” I stood on my toes and kissed him once more before pulling away and going for my bag. “I didn’t order much though. Just a few things.”

“All good.” He pulled his basketball shorts on. “I’ll work with what you got.”

I drifted around the corner as he made his way to the kitchen, digging through the groceries still bagged on the counter. Still shirtless. Damn, that man was fine.

Once I was in the bathroom, I took everything I needed out of my toiletry pack. I was grateful for the clean folded towels on the rack built into the wall. As I stuffed my braids into a shower cap, I stood in front of the mirror and my eyes shifted up.

I hadn’t realized it before, but there was a rectangular window just above the shower.

I twisted back around, not liking that at all.

I hated bathrooms with windows. Not that anyone could see through a window that high or with opaque glass unless they were ten or eleven feet tall, but still. It was the principle.

Ignoring it, I undressed and stood beneath the stream.

As the minutes passed, I kept thinking about the ice cream in the freezer.

Where was Eve now? Had she returned to Charlotte?

Was she staying at some other friend’s house that I didn’t know?

Or was she with Cole? Had he been lying about not seeing her?

That could’ve been a possibility. Cole could’ve stopped by and pretended to be concerned about her whereabouts so I wouldn’t figure out they were together. No. That was stupid. She wouldn’t go that low . . . would she?

Something slammed into the glass above the shower. I screamed, clutching myself as if that would save me from whatever was trying to break in.

“Rose?” Jayson’s deep, concerned voice carried all the way to the bathroom. He barged in, peering around with wide eyes. “What happened?” he asked.

“I—think something hit the window!” My voice shook as I pointed up. Suds clung to my chest and water poured over my shoulder.

“The window? You sure?” he asked, a frown taking hold of his features.

“Yes! It sounded like someone hit it or threw something at it! Shit, I need to get out.” I turned around and rinsed the suds away.

“Hold on, hold on. Let me see what it is.” Jayson left before I could speak again.

I swallowed hard, shutting off the shower and reaching for a towel on the rack. I wrapped the towel around my body and left the bedroom to get to the living room. The front door was cracked open, so I stuffed my feet into my shoes and walked out.

It was pitch-black outside now. Minus the porch lights and solar lights planted into the ground to reveal a trail to the cottage, there was hardly any visibility. Just trees, darkness, noisy cicadas, and croaking frogs.

“Jayson?” I called out.

“Over here.” I followed his voice to the right side of the cottage and spotted him and the rectangular window belonging to the bathroom illuminated with light.

A sconce attached to the house was pitched next to the window with insects swarming around it.

Something dark was flapping around at Jayson’s feet.

“What is that?” I asked.

“A bat,” he said, frowning down at it.

“That’s what hit the window?” I breathed a sigh of relief as Jayson stepped back.

“Yeah, looks like it. Probably tried going for the moths. Might be injured now.”

He walked my way and we both watched the bat thrash around. The left wing appeared a bit crooked. There was no way we could really help it though. Bats could carry rabies and all sorts of diseases.

“I’ll find something to use so I can move it. Come on.” Jayson wrapped an arm around my damp shoulders and led me back to the porch.

I couldn’t help peering over my shoulder at the bat.

The way it thrashed.

Squeaked.

Begging for help.

Begging for more out of life . . .

Just like Eve , the voice in the back of my head whispered.

Eve Castillo journal entry

I’m feeling too emotional today. For some reason I can’t stop thinking about a situation that happened when I was younger. I ran away from Abuela’s and went straight to Rose’s house. I burst into her room and had a panic attack out of nowhere.

It was the first of many to come.

She asked me what was wrong, what had happened, but I couldn’t give her an explanation.

I remember feeling so overwhelmed. Something had triggered me.

After calming down, I realized what it was.

That morning, Abuela told me my mom was being let out of prison early.

When she told me over breakfast, I shrugged it off and told myself I didn’t care.

But I think I glossed over my emotions. I swallowed it down and pretended it didn’t matter.

The truth is that throughout the whole school day, I kept picturing my mom showing up to the building and dragging me out of the classroom by my hair right in front of my peers.

I pictured her yelling at me, berating me, slapping me, mocking me. Blaming me for her problems.

Then I wondered if my dad would get out too. Would he find me? Punch me in the stomach again? Lock me in a room? Force me to get into the trunk of a car? Starve me for hours? That’s all I could wonder when I got home after school.

As I thought about it all, I only wanted to be comforted by Rose.

I wanted to hear from her that I would be okay, then I wanted to hear from Rose’s dad Ben that they would never hurt me again.

My parents lost custody of me and Zoey. They couldn’t just show up and take us away, and if they did show their face, the police would be called.

Ben reminded me of that constantly and didn’t stop until it was planted deep in my brain like a rooted tree.

Rose hugged me tight and cried with me that day.

Then she brought me Oreos and cold milk.

We talked about it a little more as we dunked the cookies into the cold white liquid.

We liked it when the Oreos got just a little soggy on one half but stayed crunchy on the other.

We started giggling about this boy named Bradley with braces who was dying for an invitation to Rose’s pool party. Both of us had black crumbs and cream in our teeth and we looked ridiculous as tears of joy left the corners of our eyes.

Rose and I had known each other for three years then. We had been friends in middle school, but became even closer our freshman year of high school. I ate alone at lunch on the first day. Back then, I was wary of everyone and preferred being alone.

Rose sat right next to me and said, “I enjoy eating alone too.”

I remember looking at her and smiling. She smiled back then offered me a pack of fruit snacks.

Our friendship started out simply. First there were sporadic dinners at her house that Ben would invite me to, then later laughing together in middle school PE.

At the start of high school, we began to trust one another more and began walking together in the hallways, meeting at our lockers, and sitting together at lunch every day.

When I ran to Rose’s house that night, it was the first time I’d been truly vulnerable with her. I knew before that I loved having her as a friend, but that night she became my best friend forever. I also knew that I would do anything for her . . . and she’d do anything for me.

Friends like her don’t come around often. But friends like me are a dime a dozen. I’m cheap. Selfish. Hard to deal with. I don’t deserve her. I never have.