Page 146 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part One

What the hell am I doing here?

There’s so much I’m having to trust fall myself into accepting. Things like his loving me.

Holy hell.

“Shaaaaaaae!” Yenn screeches, and Ezra’s voice pierces through her diatribe to shout, “For the love of god, please open the goddamn door so she can stop fucking screaming!”

I rush to let Yenn in, aware I’ve already scandalized-slash-pissed off Ezra enough today. I can’t believe I let Storm finger me on the kitchen island.

If Yenn’d done that, I’d be wanting to break the fucking lease.

Flushed and embarrassed, I fling the door open wide, not waiting to acknowledge her entrance before diving back beneath my sheets and twisting myself into a cocoon.

“Oh-ho, no you don’t, ma’am,” she drawls, her voice close to my ear. “You’re not gonna run from me, babes. You’ve got some ‘splain’ to do!”

Bouncing on my bed like a demented bunny, she jostles me until I fling myself out of the covers.

“Fine!” I shout, throwing my hands in the air before plopping them on my thighs. “First, I’m sorry for the kitchen.”

Yenn snorts. “You don’t sound sorry.”

I flush, my face getting hot.

“Well, I am.”

Yenn waves away the comment. “You know what the hell I’m here for. How was it? Is he big? Did he make you come? How many times?”

“Yenn!” I shout, a nugget of amusement tickling my face. “First, the sex was great. Amazing. The rest of your questions I willneveranswer.”

“Aw, don’t be like that, Shae!” she shouts, leaning back as she closes her eyes, wounded.

“No, ma’am,” I snap, holding up a finger like a schoolteacher. “Hard boundary.”

She grumbles something, but I’m so tired now that Storm is gone that I don’t care to figure out what she’s saying.

Also, it’s likely something like, “Well, we had boundaries not to fuck anyone where we eat and look where that got us.”

Yenn crosses her arms, eyeing me with a mix of concern and playful curiosity.

“All right, all right,” she concedes, “I won’t pry about the details. But Shae, listen to me. Storm is…well, he’s stormy. Intense, yes, but fleeting. You can’t let yourself get caught in the downpour.”

“Well, hell, if that wasn’t an allegory to end all allegories,” I drawl.

Yenn holds her hands out like that one meme of Oprah.

“Don’t ignore the truth, babes,” she counters.

I nod, the weight of her words landing in my gut.

“I know, Yenn. I’m not looking for anything serious. He’s just…a distraction.”

The lie tastes like ash, but I force a smile.

“Exactly,” Yenn affirms, pointing a finger at me. “Have your fun, enjoy the ride, but remember, he’s got major fuckboy vibes. Don’t get dazzled by his Maybach or do something stupid like fall in love.”

Yenn spits the word “love” like it’s poison. A new development?

I force a smile. “I’m not falling in love with him, Yenn.”

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