She pouts. “I don’t have sad eyes, do I?”

I brush my finger along her cheekbone and underneath one of her green eyes. “You did. All the time. And sometimes you still do.”

“You look sad sometimes too,” she tells me with her auburn hair spread out across the pillow below her head. “But right now you look happy.”

“That’s because I am happy.” I start singing her the lyrics and it makes her grin broaden.

“There we go,” I say and kiss her deeply, nipping at her lip and tracing my tongue along the inside of her mouth.

She wraps her long legs around me and things turn heated. Threading my fingers through her hair, I caress her neck with my tongue until I know she’s going to have a hickey. Her shoulder shudders upward from the touch of my breath and she giggles.

I put a small gap between us and look her in the eyes. “Does that tickle?”

She shakes her head with a solemn expression on her face. “No, not at all.”

I pinch her side playfully and she jerks sideways, attempting to roll out from under me.

“Please don’t.” She laughs, struggling for air. “Pretty please.”

I listen to her, because there’s something else I’m dying to do. I begin to undress her, deliberately at first, but then my movements turn desperate and I end up ripping some of the buttons off her shirt.

Minutes later, our clothes are in a pile on the floor and I’m back inside her. As I stare into her eyes, I consider begging her to come with me on the road, but the moment is fleeting and I realize I just can’t do that to her.

I wake up in a quiet room with Ella in my arms, and her naked body curled up against me. I wish it was possible to wake up every morning like this, but then someone would have to give up something important.

“God, what the fuck am I going to do?” I whisper aloud to myself.

Morning is peeking through the curtain and cars buzz down the main road in front of the hotel. I watch Ella sleep for a bit, while I run my fingers along her back, until finally her eyelids peek open.

“You’re awake.” She blinks the tiredness away.

I twist a lock of her hair around my finger. “I couldn’t sleep.” She starts to sit up, but I tighten my arms around her and hold her to me. “Just stay put for a few more minutes. I like holding you.”

Her eyes examine me, and she rests her head back on my shoulder. “What’s wrong? You seem upset.”

I smooth away the worry line between her brows with my thumb. “Have you ever thought about what we’re going to do with our lives? With each other?”

She bites at her bottom lip. “Sometimes I think about it.”

“And where do you see us going?” I ask with caution, not wanting to scare her with what I’m thinking about asking her. I need to test the waters first.

Her eyes round and her breathing becomes frantic. “Are you breaking up with me?”

I snort a laugh. “Why the fuck would you ever think that?”

She props up on her elbow and gazes down at me, her hair a curtain around our faces. “Because you have this look on your face like you’re about to tell me some horrible news.”

“It’s not bad news.” I guide her body on top of mine. “But I’m not sure if you’ll be happy about it either.”

She clutches onto my shoulders as she pushes herself up, so she’s straddling me and I can feel her warmth on my cock. The blanket falls from her shoulders and her breasts are just above my face.

“Please hurry up and tell me, then,” she begs. “Because you’re scaring the shit out of me right now.”

“I think…” I stop, remembering my mother and my father, and how things turned out for them. “It’s nothing. Honestly it wasn’t really that important.”

Her face falls. “No, that look on your face isn’t nothing. Since when do you keep things from me?”

“I’m not keeping anything from you.” I’m just holding out for a while until I know we’re both on the same page. “Now come here.”

I sit up and put my mouth over her breast, sucking on her nipple and distracting her. When I move my mouth away, she’s panting and the light reflects in her eyes. Wrapping my hand around the back of her head, I steer her lips toward mine and thrust my cock inside her. She breathes fervently against my lips, and moments later we’ve both forgotten about the conversation.

Chapter 3

Ella

It’s been a week since the LA trip and I feel like shit all the time. Micha’s been really busy and I barely get to talk to him. Plus Lila started dating Preston and she’s never around. My muscles ache just from walking, my head hurts all the time, and every task is tiring.

I’m waiting outside the therapist’s office, with my bag on my lap, when I get a text from my brother.

Dean: Call me asap.

Me: Can’t. In a meeting.

Dean: Don’t be a brat. CALL ME.

My therapist walks out of the office and motions me to come in as the phone beeps again. I shut it off and sit down in a chair in front of the desk, decorated with a nameplate, a cup full of pens, and a tall stack of folders.

Her name is Anna and she’s young, maybe in her late twenties, with blonde hair that’s cropped short around her jawline. Every time I see her, she’s in a pantsuit. Today, it’s a black pinstriped one.

“Hello, Ella.” She takes a seat behind her desk and puts on her square-framed glasses as she takes out my file. “How was your weekend?”

“Interesting,” I say. “To say the least.”

Noting my tone, she looks up at me. “And what was interesting about it?”

I scratch at my back along my infinity tattoo. “I went to visit Micha in LA.”

She opens a notebook. “And how did that go?”

I hesitate. “Good, I think.”

She scratches something down in the paper. “You seem like you’re unsure.”

I slouch back in the seat and fold my arms. “It’s just that… well, every time I go to see him or he comes to see me, it gets harder to say good-bye.”

She sets the pen and notebook down on her desk and removes her glasses. “Saying good-bye is always hard, but sometimes it’s necessary to move on in life.”

“I don’t want to move on from him.” Panic gusts through me like a tornado. “I love Micha.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” she explains quickly. “I’m saying that sometimes saying good-bye is the hardest part of life.”

I hate when she plays mind games. “Are you referring to my mother? Because I told you last time that I was over that.”

“Ella, you’re not over it,” she says. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have said that.”

I prop my elbow on the arm of the chair and rest my chin in my hand. “Then what does this good-bye thing have to do with?”

“It has to do with you.” She takes a mint out of a tin and puts it in her mouth. “And you struggle to say good-bye to things: your guilt over your mother and your father, your pain, your feelings. You have such a hard time letting go of your past.”

“I know that,” I admit. “But I’m working on it.”

She pauses, tapping her fingers on the desk. “Tell me this: Where do you see yourself in a year or two?”

“I don’t know… I haven’t really thought about it that much.”

“Try to think about it for a minute, if you can.”

I raise my chin from my hand and search my brain, but all I can see is Micha and me out on that damn bridge as he falls into the water.

“I don’t know.” I grip the armrests of the chair as my pulse accelerates. “I really don’t… Holy shit.”

“Relax, Ella, everything’s going to be fine.” She opens the desk drawer and takes out another folder. “I think we might want to start considering doing an evaluation for anxiety and depression.”

My eyes narrow at her. “No way.”

“Ella, I think it’s important that—”

I shove up from the chair and swing my bag over my shoulder. “I’m not talking about this.”

She says something else, but I’m already out the door. I will not discuss having a mental illness. I’m not sick. I’m not.

Burying the conversation, I turn on my phone and read the text Dean sent me. “Dad left rehab Call me now…” What? I punch in his speed-dial number as I walk outside into the sunlight and put the phone to my ear.

“Why the hell did you turn off your phone?” he snaps.

“I told you. I was in a meeting.” I head across the quad, zigzagging in between people and ducking under a Frisbee flying through the air.

“Well, you need to get back home,” he orders. “Dad bailed and no one can find him.”

“I’ll call Micha’s mom and see if she can find out where he is. If he’s at home.” I start to hang up.

“I already got ahold of her.” He sounds aggravated. “And she’s on a vacation with some guy she’s dating.”

“Oh…” I didn’t even know his mom was dating someone. “Then what do we do?”

“You drive up there and check on him,” he says like it’s my obligation.

“Why can’t you do it?”

“Because I have work and a wedding to plan—a life.”

“I have a life,” I argue, reaching the border of the grass. “And we can always call someone else. We can call Denny.”

“You call Denny then,” he says, and I hear Caroline’s voice in the background. “Look, I have to go, okay? Call Denny and let me know what’s going on as soon as you do.” He hangs up on me.

Frustrated, I dial information and get the number for Denny’s bar. By the time I call, I’m trotting up the stairs to Lila’s and my two-bedroom apartment.