“Don’t like kissing the boss?” he jokes, and pulls my chair out.

When he leans down to place my napkin on my lap, I whisper, “You know I do.”

I’m full of mixed signals and even I know it. If it’s driving me crazy it must be driving him crazy. I should tell him—tell him that I love him and maybe that will set my mind at ease.

Kale sits there with an amused look on his face.

Ben rolls his eyes. “What?”

“You’re different when you have a girlfriend.”

Ben flinches at the use of the word girlfriend. I see it. How can I tell him how I feel when he can’t even call me his girlfriend?

“Hi, Kale. Thanks for inviting me,” I break in, wanting to change the subject.

“Hey, sunshine, anytime,” he answers. “You ever have wheatgrass before?” He opens one of the menus on the table.

“No.” I twist my head around to look at the restaurant name again—Sprouts. I’ve never heard of it until today.

He waves the waiter over and points to the menu. “Three to start.”

“I’ll get those right away, sir,” the waiter answers.

“What kind of restaurant is this anyway?”

“Raw food,” he answers, licking his lips at his choices.

Ben opens his menu. “Kale chips, sunchokes, seawitch? Are you kidding me? What kind of food is this?”

I look at him with a zip it now look. “I’ve never eaten here. What’s good?” I ask Kale.

Ben bursts out laughing. “Let’s just say you’ll want an early dinner.”

I glare at him again.

He tosses me a questioning look as if he doesn’t know why I’ve reacted that way. Conversation during our meal is strained and once we’ve finished I feel a little impatient to leave. I stand up.

“Where are you going?” he asks me.

“I have a lot to do.”

“I’ll walk back with you.”

“I have some stops to make before I go back to the office. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Okay.” He lowers his head to kiss me.

Again I turn my cheek.

“What the f**k is wrong with you?” he whispers.

“Nothing. I just have a lot to do. See you, Kale,” I say, and turn and walk away. Tears leak from my eyes and I can’t stop them. Okay, so PMS it is.

About an hour later I feel really guilty for my behavior and for what I haven’t told Ben yet. I pick up my phone and use the intercom to call him.

“Hey, sexy. I’ve been thinking about you. I was hoping you’d stop in when you got back.”

“I have work to do, Ben.” I stress this, but the truth is I really want to see him. I want to feel the touch of his skin on mine.

“Well, come in here and let me see what you’re working on.”

“I can’t. I’m just calling to see if you want to meet me at Pebbles tonight.”

“Sure. We can go together.”

“I’ll meet you there. I want to stop by my mother’s first.”

“I’ll go with you,” he says, and I know he’s trying really hard to help me bridge the distance between my family and him, but I’m not ready for that. I mean he flinched today when Kale called me his girlfriend.

“I have a bunch of other stops to make. Can you just meet me there?”

“Sure thing, but anything I should know about ahead of time?” he asks, sounding a little annoyed at me.

“No. I’ll see you then.” I hang up as more tears prick my eyes.

Six hours later I’m sitting in the dimly lit restaurant that seems extremely crowded for a weeknight and I can’t help wondering if I’ve turned into a sex addict. All I can think about is him—having him, wanting him, touching him. I even send him erotic messages. A few days ago I sent one that read:

Went to spin class at lunch and got wet thinking of you.

And another one that said:

Have you ever done it in an elevator?

With just one look from him as he joins me at the restaurant, it’s stronger than ever. Now as I stare at him across the table, I can’t help wondering how he feels about me. Does he feel the same?

He clears his throat. “So, are you going to tell me what this is about or make me suffer through dinner trying to figure it out?”

There is an incredibly long silence before I push my plate aside. I take a deep breath and exhale, deciding I can’t do it. I can’t tell him how I feel. I’m too afraid he’ll leave me sitting here again. So instead I tell him the other thing I needed to let him know. “My whole family is flying to New York City to be with Jagger for Christmas and they want me to come with them.”

He looks at me a little blankly.

“Did you hear me?” I snap, wanting to see that he at least cares he won’t see me for Christmas.

He waits another moment before answering, “Are you going?”

I can’t tell how he feels about it. “Yes.”

He reaches across the table and grabs my hand. “Stay here with me.”

“I can’t,” I say, lowering my voice so I don’t cry. I knew he felt more for me. But why won’t he tell me that?

My phone rings and at first I’m grateful for the distraction. But then our eyes dart to the name Romeo Fairchild on the screen. I ignore it and all is silent until Ben says, “Why is he calling you?” His voice is edged with anger.

“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully.

A text message scrolls across the screen.

I’d really like to talk to you and explain things. I’m not sure I’ve made the best impression. Things at the release party weren’t what they looked like.

“He was at the party?” he hisses.

I bite the inside of my cheek, feeling nervous. “Yes.”

His eyes narrow on me. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m not sure. I guess I never thought of it.”

“What’s his message mean?”

I look at him.

He has daggers in his eyes.

“I’m not sure.”

His brow furrows. “S’belle, I have a hard time believing you have no idea what he means.”

My eyes meet his before dropping. “Well, maybe he wants to clear something up.”

He doesn’t say anything. His stare does all the talking. He waits for me to explain.

“I thought he and Tate were having a threesome with some girl that night.”

His hands grip the table. “And how would he know what you thought?”

My voice grows small. “I told him when he called me and asked me to meet him and Tate.”

Fury blazes in his eyes now. “Fucker,” he says a little too loudly.

“Why don’t you two like each other? There has to be more to it.”

His jaw is stiff, his body rigid. “Because he wanted Dahlia in high school and he didn’t care that she was mine. And now he obviously wants you and once again doesn’t care.” His words come out laced with resentment.

“Am I yours?” I ask him.

His eyes dart to the table and something shifts in his gaze. “What’s going on with you? Are you playing some kind of game with me? You’ve been so hot and cold.”

“No!” I sound offended because I am. But the disappointment I feel that he won’t answer the question rises again. “When Kale called me your girlfriend today, you flinched like you didn’t like him using that word.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

“It wasn’t why you think.”

“Then why was it?”

He seems at a loss to come up with an answer.

“Do you consider me your girlfriend?”

“Yeah, I do. You know I do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“What’s all this about?”

“Never mind, forget it.” I’m afraid I’m losing him.

Shifting in his chair, he asks, “When do you leave?”

I swallow. “Tomorrow. I already planned to take the time off work anyway until the wedding.”

“You leave tomorrow?” His voice rises.

“Christmas is in two days,” I say incredulously.

“I know when Christmas is,” he blasts.

“Oh, I wasn’t sure. You hadn’t mentioned it.”

“How long have you known you were going?”

“My mom asked us all last night at dinner. Jagger’s dad has taken a turn for the worse and Mom wants us all to go to be with Aunt Celeste and him.”

“Shit, S’belle, I’m sorry. Do you know how long you’re going for?”

“A week, hopefully less.” Not that I don’t want to be there for Jagger, but I need to get back and finish getting everything ready for Xander and Ivy’s wedding.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“Do you want to?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. I’m getting a little tired of asking you to be honest.”

“Then I’m sorry to inconvenience you.”

“What’s with the attitude, S’belle?” He grabs my hand. “Talk to me.”

I search his face. “What’s going on with us?”

He pauses a moment as if trying to figure out where this outburst is coming from. “Do we have to define it now, here in the restaurant?”

“No. But the mixed signals and blank stares are getting to me.”

“My mixed signals? Are you f**king kidding me? This week you’ve been all over the place.”

I motion between us. “What is this for you? Just sex?”

He hesitates before saying, “No.”

“Is this about Dahlia, then? Are you not over her?” I can’t believe I’m asking him that, but the Romeo comment must have brought it to the surface.

He glares at me. “No, I mean yes, I am. You know I am. This has nothing to do with her.”

The hurt and shock are evident on his face and I want to take it all back, but it’s too late. Maybe I’m not just ready for this. I can’t handle these kinds of feelings. That has become very clear. I stand up and toss my napkin on my plate because something that feels an awful lot like finality courses through my body.

“Sit down and let’s talk about this,” he says, trying to keep his voice controlled.

“I have to go. I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

He stares at me in disbelief and even though I know I’m being irrational I lay it all on the table. “Look, Ben, I’m not looking for forever, but before I bring you home to my family I need to feel like there’s more than just tomorrow. And I’m not sure you can give me that.”

And then I leave him sitting in the dining room at Pebbles two days before Christmas. He doesn’t come after me and I remind myself that I knew something like this would happen eventually.

What did I do? Why am I ruining this for no reason? I’m unable to answer any of my own questions. The valet pulls my car up and I get in. As I drive home I try to figure out why I didn’t just tell him the truth—that I want him to come with me, to be with me, that all I need to know is that he wants the same. I think about my actions the whole way home—maybe I’m just self-destructive. When I drive down Sunset I stop at a light and look around. A purple sign flashes MISTY’S WORLD. She’s a fortune-teller; I’ve passed the place many times but never gone in.

I find a place to park and walk down the street. When I get to Misty’s I take a deep breath and walk in. A bell rings and I look around the tiny room with green walls, fluorescent lights, and stars hanging from the ceiling. A smiling woman opens a beaded curtain and I nod to her.