Page 70 of Fake Shot

“It’s not that I can’t move on because I haven’t forgiven Brock. It’s because what happened back in Vegas proved to me that I can’t trustmyself.”

“I think what you learned, Jules, is a lesson we all learn the hard way...you make really bad decisions when you’re drunk.”

“No. I learned that when I let go of control, I fuck up my life. Alcohol is one way of losing control, but there are others.”

“Like what?” I ask, wondering how deep her control issues go.

“I don’t know.” I can feel her shrug her shoulder where it rests against my bicep. “I never test my limits. Being vulnerable in any way...it’s a no from me.”

“Jules, that’s...” I stop myself before I sayridiculous. How can she possibly grow, or be a fully functioning human being, if she keeps herself so closed off? “... limiting your life experiences, don’t you think?”

She shrugs again.

“What are the things you’d want to do if you weren’t afraid of losing control?”

“You’re not my shrink, Colt.”

I can already feel her walls coming back up. “No, I’m not. But unlike your therapist, I’m here right now. And you need to talk this out.”

The hum of her disapproval rattles around in her throat, but her fingers trace the tattoos on my right biceps.

“Let’s play a little game,” I suggest. “Here’s the sentence frame:if I wasn’t afraid of ... blank, I would or wouldn’t ... blank. I’ll go first.”

“Okay.” Her agreement is tentative, like she might change her mind if I don’t offer something worthy.

“If I wasn’t afraid of getting hurt again, I would drop my one night only rule. Your turn.”

She pauses, sighing as if she’s not sure where to start. “If I wasn’t afraid of the making terrible decisions, I would try more than two drinks in a night just to see what it’s like.”

“If you ever want to get drunk, Jules, I’ll happily stay sober and make sure you’re safe. You can try drinking again, and I won’t let you do anything you’ll regret.”

She shifts on the bed, curling into me like she’s burrowing into blankets. She’s trying to get cozy with me, and I don’t have the typical urge to get up, move away, invite her to leave. No, I want Jules curled up with me for as long as she wants to be here.

“Maybe someday,” she says finally. “Your turn.”

“If I wasn’t afraid of becoming irrelevant, I wouldn’t try so hard to live up to my reputation.”

“Hmmmm.” That sound rattles against me again, and I’m about to remind her that it’s her turn now when she says, “If I wasn’t afraid of losing control, I would date.”

“You’re afraid of losing control on a date?”

“No questions, Colt,” she says. “Just finish the sentence frame. Your turn.”

My chest shakes with laughter because I’m finally figuring her out. Knowing she lashes out when she’s scared—especially of being vulnerable—makes it so much easier to understand her.

“If I wasn’t afraid of hurting someone else the way I was hurt,” I say, releasing a heavy breath, “I would be open to a relationship.”

“You think you’d hurt someone else the same way you were hurt?”

Of course not.After what Gabriel did to me, there’s no way I’d ever cheat. But there are a lot of other ways to hurt someone just as much.

“No questions, Jules. Just finish the damn sentence,” I say, mimicking her.

“Fine,” she huffs like she’s irritated that I used her strategy on her. “If I wasn’t afraid of losing control, I wouldn’t still be a virgin.”

I freeze. I think I stop breathing and my blood stops flowing, because everything inside of me comes to a standstill. I couldn’t have heard her correctly. And then my body jolts itself back alive in a flash of heat that flows across my skin painfully.

“What now?” I croak out the words,

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