◇ Ten - Are We Ready? ◇

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I stirred restlessly in my bed. Endless thoughts flooding my mind in a tsunami. It's been almost two weeks since I've heard anything from Camille. Waiting around like this was driving me crazy.

I already touched base with Jordan numerous times and briefed him on everything. I think I jinxed myself when I celebrated too soon, thinking I had Camille convinced I was to be trusted. After all the excitement, it's been fourteen days of pure nothing. I thought about taking the elevator to Camille's penthouse a few times, but I knew that would only make me look desperate or suspicious. I impressed her, I got on her good side, but it was all still new, and I didn't want to do anything to jeopardize that.

Looking at my digital clock, the bright white letters practically blinding me in the dark, displaying five fifteen AM. Collectively, I'd slept about three and a half hours. Now I can't go back to sleep.

I got myself out of bed and walked out on the balcony. The sky was still dark, and the streets below were incredibly quiet. A gentle breeze carried the salt from the ocean and filled my lungs. God, I missed that smell when we left for Colorado so many years ago.

I closed my eyes with the images of my dad taking me to the beach after picking me up from school. He'd buy me a bowl of ice cream with two spoons so we could share, even though I always ended finishing it by myself.

I smiled, the memory warming me from the inside out. As much as I loved this city during the day, there was nothing like this time. Middle of the night or early morning. It was like time stopped here. Like a painting of a sleeping city captured to last forever.

After Camille dropped me off at my apartment the day after we got Cerberus back, I'd stayed up to date with the news articles about Guillermo De Leon. It made me physically nauseous to read his testimony about what happened. He really had made me sound like a jealous lover that was only after his money, and when after so many times fighting about only wanting him to myself, I had finally snapped and attacked him.

Poor Bastard.

At least he had the decency to leave my name out of the news, but I'm sure that was more for his protection than mine. He'd told the press that he wasn't pressing charges because he understood  that love was complicated. After that, I had to put the news away it was irritating me so much. It also wasn't the only thing that bothered me. It'd been a very long time since any man touched me. I wasn't exactly in the dating scene, even in high school. I was always so focused on my goals and getting good grades, not to mention taking care of mom, that I'd forgotten to have fun.

All of my mile stones were a little on the late side. Not that there was anything wrong with that. It just wasn't something  I really cared about at the time, and now, at the age of twenty-six, I wish I'd taken a few moments to just breathe. Some college friends of mine had convinced me to go to a handful of parties thankfully and convinced to drink and let loose. I was hilariously terrified and yet way too overconfident that I could handle it.

That night, I had my first kiss with Barry Tims, and he tasted like sweat and Miller Lite. About a year later, I met Lucas Brioni, a guy in my criminal profiling class. We'd been working on a project together, and we were both so focused on school and getting out of Colorado that neither of us had any interest in dating. He was as attracted to me as I was to him, so we both decided to hook up, deciding it was the most convenient for us both because we understood each other so well. We'd continued our casual relationship until graduation, and then we went our separate ways without as much as saying goodbye.

That night in Guierrmo's office, when he was touching me and kissing me, I felt so uncomfortable. Not just because of the obvious reasons, but because when I imagined the next time a man would put his hands and mouth on my body, it certainly didn't involve a selfish sixty-year old horndog that enjoyed pissing off the wrong people.

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