Page 59 of Blush

Make that an average-size closet. The bed takes up most of the room.

“Morning, Jack,” I call as I grab Roger’s leash from the side table.

No response.

Of course. He’s still freaking asleep. He’s not bothered at all by the fact that I kicked him out of my room in the middle of the night.

Then I glance toward the sofa.

He’s gone.

My heart dives into my stomach as sadness sweeps through me.

Then I suck it up.

“Who needs him anyway?” I say to Roger as I attach his leash to his collar. “Let’s go.”

I shove a plastic bag into the pocket of my coat, and then I walk downstairs with Roger. After he does his business and I clean up after him, we return to the apartment.

Because I work at home, there isn’t much difference between weekends and weekdays. After I brew some coffee, I sit down at my laptop to check Lily’s emails and social media.

Then I remember—

I have an appointment this afternoon at the gym. With Michael whatever his name is. He’s going to train me. He’s going to help me get svelte and sexy for Frankie’s wedding.

Ugh. I should cancel. I don’t particularly want to leave the house today. Not when things aren’t right between Jackson and me.

Which is a good reasonnotto cancel. Why should I let this thing with Jackson keep me from the gym? He’s being an ass.

Yes, he can be an ass, but he would give you the shirt off his back, and you know it. He’s your best friend. And you love him.

All true. He just doesn’t love me back the way I want him to. And now that I’ve kissed him, had sex with him… God, I want him all the more. Even though he’s being a dickhead.

Somehow, my fingers end up taking me to the Lustr site.

I haven’t changed my bio, and of course I have match, match, match, most of which I won’t touch with a ten-foot pole.

Clearly, trying to be someone’s protégé isn’t working.

I think again about where I was headed last night before Frankie texted. I was going back to that bar to try to get into Black Rose.

Thank God Frankie called.

What was I thinking? Although…I can’t say I’m not intrigued by the concept of being tied up. Being helpless and at a man’s mercy.

The thought makes me tingle all over, especially between my legs.

And thinking about that place between my legs…

Jackson was there. Jackson’s face was between my legs. His dick was between my legs.

My God. No wonder he left.

How can our friendship ever be the same?

Maybe it’s time to let Jackson go. I mean, he’ll always be in my life, but he made it very clear that he and I will never happen again, despite how amazing the sex was.

Maybe it wasn’t that amazing for him. Maybe it was just…mediocre.