And as the sun went down, and I once again found myself lying pressed up along Will—this time on the living room floor—naked and messy from another round of orgasms, I asked him...

“What now?”

Running a thumb over my lips, he searches my face with an unreadable look. “Up to you.”

I turn his palm to my cheek, press a kiss to the heel of his hand. Into his skin, I tell him, “Ask me tomorrow.”

Seconds later, Shawn had texted me, and just like that, the best day I’ve had in years—maybe ever—was over.

It was time to wake up. Return to reality. My reality.

And as tempting as it was to take Will up on his offer—and fuck, was it tempting after everything—I knew I would only be prolonging the inevitable. I could practically hear my therapist’s voice in my head, warning me to take things slow.

“It’s important you learn the difference between having fun and trying to escape your problems.”

Okay, so she was talking about drinking when she said that, but the same principle applies: Will could very well turn into another addiction if I’m not careful.

A dependency.

And I have enough of those, thank you very much.

Plus the idea of tainting Will and what he means to me didn’t sit too well with me. He deserves better than that, and I really don’t want to fuck us up even more than we already are. There’s a fine line between a work-in-progress and a toxic dumpster fire—and we straddle the shit out of that line enough as it is. I’d like to think we favor the side of the former, but I know how easily it would be to fall into something unhealthy.

And despite his obvious wariness, Will didn’t try to change my mind. I half wish he had, which is the crux of the issue, isn’t it? I guess even pushy assholes like him have their limits. I should be happy he backed off, but a small, ugly part of me worries he’s doing it out of pity. Treating me with kid gloves.

Especially after what I told him yesterday. About the summer my dad tried to turn me straight.

But I think a bigger part of me worries he’s too selfless for his own damn good. Especially when it comes to me. I’m not worth it.

I release a sigh as I turn the key, silencing the engine along with my thoughts. I’ve only had the same vicious cycle of doubts all night, and I’m frankly sick of my damn self at this point.

I squint through the windshield, taking in Ivy’s brick apartment complex. We don’t have a lot of developments like this in Shiloh, unless you’re counting the trailer parks, of course.