Since the day my parents died when I was eight, water has been my escape. I’m sure a therapist could find some deep connection to my need for water, but I like to keep it simple. No need to make it more complicated than it needs to be.
I stay under the surface until my lungs scream for relief. I push myself up, wipe the water from my eyes, and take a deep, cleansing breath.
The day is over now. Washed away.
Now comes tomorrow.
No sooner do I pull myself from the tub, dress, slip into bed—and nearly fall asleep—does my cell ping with a text message. I pull it from the nightstand and open the messaging app.
Amelia: Cadence wants to know when you’re visiting again.
Me:Stop using Cadence to do your dirty work and stop texting during lunch.
Amelia:Fine. Just bring your ass. I miss you.
Me:You better. And soon...I promise.
Amelia:I hope so. Case has been asking about you too.
Me:Case who? ??
Amelia:Oh stop it. He asks every time I see him. Are you ever going to tell me what happened between you two?
Me:Nothing and that’s the truth. We just...clicked. That’s all.
Amelia:I somehow don’t believe that.
Me:Well, it’s true.
Amelia:I’ll get the truth out of you...one day.
I drop my phone back to the nightstand and flop back onto my pillow, staring up at the ceiling.
My heart is in Savannah.
I miss my best friend. I miss the city. It stole my heart.
I never expected to love a place so much until I set foot in a square in the Historic District of Savannah, Georgia.
It was love at first sight.
Not to mention, Case Carmichael is there.
Fucking Case Carmichael. I swoon just at his name.
Smooth-talking alpha, cocky as fuck cop, and best friend to my best friend’s fiancé. The man could talk the panties off a nun and she’d beg for more.
So the fact my panties didn’t come off for him at all had him all riled up. That’s a fact I tucked away in my back pocket, brought all the way back to California with me, and pull out anytime I need a good boost of confidence.
He tried to work his charm on me when I was there with Amelia, after the whole “ex-husband is a psycho bastard” debacle. However, I, by the grace of God—unwilling to get hurt and the fact he’s a cop—was able to just say no, like he was a drug.
I’ve been with men like him.
They sweep you off your feet, fuck you like a god, make you come ten times in one night, and then kick you out on your ass in the morning.
No thanks.
I have my handy-dandy rabbit vibrator for that, and he doesn’t talk or make me leave after we are finished.