Advanced Search
Welcome to Omgili,
Omgili (Oh My God I Love It ;) is a search engine for discussions. With Omgili you can find answers and solutions, debates, discussions, personal experiences, opinions and more... To learn more about Omgili click here.

This is a complete preview of the discussion as it was indexed by Omgili crawlers. Use this preview if the original discussion is unavailable.
Click here to view the original discussion.

At Last [NC-17] - The Original Story [COMPLETE] - getclayaiken.com (a WMS reprise)

I guess I have a bit of George Lucas syndrome when it comes to this story.

The Original, The Sequel, and then the Prequel. This begins what I'm calling "the original story." A brief explanation of the prequel/original division: when I started the story, it was more or less a skit.

It turned into a real story as it grew, however.

At the point it became real to me, with real characters, I started posting.

I called it At Last .

At the finish of that story, I wasn't ready to say goodbye.

I missed my characters.

I missed Clay and Amanda, and I felt like there was more of their story to tell.

I wanted to see how their life turned out, so I wrote At Last II: A Sequel .

Later, I felt like I wanted to go back and give them the beginning they deserved, so I wrote the prequel - At Last: The Beginning . It sounds convoluted, but it's really not.

It makes more sense when you read the story than when I try to explain it. Jumping so far into the story here shouldn't cause any problems.

The only background info you might need is that they broke up for a while very early in their relationship.

At this point in the story, they've been dating for almost 5 months (whirlwind romance, so to speak).

The first chapter starts out during the Independent Tour.

And the confusion at the beginning is intentional. Oh. And the first song they danced to was "At Last" by Ms.

Etta James. This post has been edited by Mandler : Dec 16 2007, 02:18 PM

Chapter 1 "When I what?

You think I slept with Jeremy?” Amanda asked, her mouth dropping open in shock.

Had she really heard him correctly?

She blinked slowly, feeling as if he’d just punched her in the stomach. “I don’t think – I know,” Clay responded.

He didn’t trust himself to elaborate.

If he started talking to her, he’d embarrass himself and the last thing he wanted was for her to know how much she had hurt him.

Amanda stared at him, her heart seizing at the complete lack of doubt on his face. “I knew you were paranoid about him being interested in me and you insinuated that I might be attracted to him, but you think I slept with him.

You think I cheated on you?” She watched his face carefully, her mind reeling. “Know.

I know ,” he said emphatically. “How do you know ?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

Clay leveled his gaze on her and raised his eyebrows smugly. “You need to ask?” “Yes.

Tell me how you know that I slept with him.” Clay rolled his eyes.

“Why? So you can deny it?” He paused to smirk.

“It might be entertaining to hear you come up with some excuse.

Just couldn’t help yourself?

You both drank too much and one thing led to another?

I’m sure it meant nothing and you were thinking of me the whole time.

What’s the story, Amanda?” “Clay,” she said softly, “why are you doing this?” He stared at her in silence, contempt emanating from his stance.

“I know what you did.

Doesn’t matter how creative your story.

I know.” Seeing the determined set of his jaw and the lack of warmth in his eyes, Amanda felt something besides shock run through her.

“And because you ‘know’ that I slept with him, it’s okay for you to cut me out of your life and replace me?” she asked angrily.

She pushed aside the pain of seeing that he really and truly believed she was capable of such a thing.

Anger was easier to deal with.

“You can just turn your back on me without even giving me the benefit of the doubt?

How can you accuse me of such a thing?

You’re ready to throw everything away?” He shrugged, looking away.

“Might as well.” “Might as well?” she asked, shocked.

“Clay, just because you feel guilty is no reason to take it out on me!

I’ve been a lot of things to you and for you, but I’m not your scapegoat!

What? Did you think that if you ignored me enough, I’d walk away happily?

I’d give up? And then if you told me that you knew I slept with Jeremy, I’d nod my head in agreement and say I was sorry?” “I don’t want your apology!” he yelled.

“It means nothing!” She was trying to blame him for this?

She was the one who cheated and it was his fault?

“I know what you did and nothing you say is going to fix that, Amanda!” “Well, good!

You’re not getting an apology from me, anyway – because I didn’t do anything wrong!” “You didn’t do anything wrong?

I guess I missed the memo telling me we had agreed to sleep with other people!

Or maybe you forgot to tell me because you were so busy between the sheets!” She raked a hand through her hair, frustrated.

She felt her hand shaking as it moved back to her side.

“Clay, why would I sleep with him??

I love you!” He laughed, causing her stomach to turn over.

“Why not? He’s your type.

I’m away. A woman has needs, evidently.

This is all my fault, probably,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Leaving someone like you without a man.” He looked at her pointedly and she felt another jab of pain slice through her. “What does that mean?

Someone like me?” She watched the corner of his mouth curve upward and her stomach sunk at the eerie differences between his playful smirk and this one.

“You clearly enjoy the chase.” She looked confused and he continued, “Managed to catch yourself a real, live celebrity, didn’t you?

Normal guys are probably more of a hobby, but I can understand the appeal.

Without me as a distraction, you got bored.” She watched him for a moment, feeling her momentary flash of anger subside and reality come crashing down on her, helped along by a heavy sense of betrayal.

He thought that about her?

“You really believe I did this?” she asked quietly. Clay walked closer to her, putting his hands on either side of her face.

He stared down into her eyes for a silent moment that seemed to stretch forever.

She searched his eyes desperately, trying to find a hint of the man she knew.

He rubbed his finger over her cheek lightly and she started to smile, her face freezing when he spoke silkily.

“How was he? Better than me?

Did he make you,” he lowered his mouth to her ear, “ hot ?” Amanda pushed his hands away, disgusted.

She paced in his dressing room.

“The fact that I’m telling you I didn’t means nothing?

The fact that I love you and you love me means nothing?

Trust means nothing?” He leaned his hip against a makeup table, regarding her coldly, his arms crossed again “You lied before.

Why should I believe you now?” “When did I lie?” “When I met you.” He shrugged and looked away.

“You’ve probably been lying this whole time.” She stepped back as if he’d slapped her, putting a hand to her chest.

Fighting to keep her voice from cracking, she asked, “This whole time?” He met her gaze evenly.

“Was I lying that week in Colorado?” He flinched, but the expression in his eyes didn’t change.

“What about in New York?” She stepped closer to him, feeling her composure slip a notch.

“Was I lying every time I told you that I loved you?

Every time I kissed you?

Touched you? Was it all a lie?” She was standing close to him and he could smell her suddenly;

He was surrounded by her.

She wasn’t wearing any perfume and he hated that.

Because it was all her.

He felt himself start to weaken as he stared down at her.

She was looking up at him and he knew she desperately wanted him to believe her.

His mind reminded him of one of the last times they had been together – on Valentine’s Day.

He had a clear picture of the way she had propped herself up on an elbow in bed and had grinned at him.

He thought she had looked at him with love in her eyes.

Could he have been that wrong?

Surely she wasn’t that good of an actress.

Before he could go any further, an image of her with Jeremy flashed through his mind – Jeremy wrapping his arms around her and their bodies intertwined.

He looked down into her face, but instead of seeing the way she was begging him to comfort her, he saw her hands moving over Jeremy’s back;

He heard her laughing against Jeremy’s ear;

He thought about her kissing Jeremy the way she kissed him, holding him close.

He pushed her away hastily, disgusted at himself and repulsed by the image of Jeremy and her together.

He was anxious to get away from her before he allowed himself to believe what he knew was a lie.

“Evidently I’m the most gullible man on earth,” he muttered. Amanda watched as he turned his back to her.

She swallowed painfully, determined not to cry in front of him.

“I’ve never lied to you, Clay,” she said softly. Clay felt his control snap.

He turned around suddenly, advancing on her until he pressed her against the wall of his dressing room.

His eyes glinted angrily as he looked down at her.

He spoke, his words deliberate and accusatory.

“You’ve never lied to me about Jeremy?

You’ve never been with him – had him at your apartment, been out with him,” his eyes locked with hers, “made love to him – and lied to me about it?” He saw her expression falter as she opened her mouth to reply and he pushed away from her, turning his back to her again.

He had seen all he needed to know in the guilt that crossed her features.

He thought he had already made up his mind, but his insides had twisted painfully when he saw her answer with his own two eyes.

“Just get out,” he said in a low voice. She stared at his back, watching the muscles move beneath the close-fitting green shirt he was wearing as he tried to control his anger.

Her fingers itched to touch him and she resisted the urge to lay her cheek against his back and beg him to stop doing this.

He would only push her away if she tried.

She glanced around the room and picked up her purse.

Still staring at his back, she asked softly, “Have you been with anyone else?” He didn’t move for a moment before he turned around and looked at her directly.

“Yes.” Clay watched Amanda’s face.

He saw the flare of hurt in her eyes before she quickly threw up her guard.

She cleared her throat, breaking their eye contact.

“That girl on TV?” Her gaze flitted to his face briefly to see his response. He nodded stiffly and watched her walk past him, her head down.

She stopped at the door, her hand on the knob.

She turned and leaned her back against the door, looking up at him as he stood by the door.

“I guess if I was that easily replaced, we were both lying.” He didn’t reply and she felt her chest tighten until she thought she would suffocate.

“What’s her name?” He met her gaze without flinching.

“Rebecca.” Knowing she would regret it, she asked, “Do you love her?” Hating himself as he did it, he winked at her.

“About as much as I loved you – she is great in bed.” Amanda’s face paled and Clay knew he would remember that expression for the rest of his life.

He would probably see it when he tried to sleep.

He realized that he had finally done what he thought he wanted to do – hurt her deeply, in such a way that she wouldn’t soon forget.

She would hate him the way he wanted to hate her.

Looking down at her, he wondered why that didn’t make him happier.

That’s what he had wanted, wasn’t it?

If so, why did he have to fight the urge to pull her close to him and cradle her face in his hands, telling her that he loved her, had always loved her, and would always love her?

He caught himself trying to memorize her face – the exact shape of her lips and the exact shade of blue in her eyes – and looked away quickly. She saw him look away and moved against the door, opening it slightly.

“So, this is what?

Goodbye?” she asked quietly, meeting his gaze again.

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

She waited for him to say something and when he didn’t, he saw another flicker of hurt cross her features.

“I don’t even get a goodbye, huh?” she asked.

His silence continued and she stared at him for a moment before turning and leaving.

After shutting the door behind her, Amanda laid her hand against the door for what seemed like a long moment, staring at her fingers blindly.

She watched her hand slide down the door until it slapped against her side. Clay leaned his head against the door and swallowed painfully.

He refused to cry.

He refused to feel anything.

Despite his best efforts, his chest felt like it was going to cave in and he clenched his fists tightly at his sides to rein in his emotions.

He had thousands of people – literally – who were counting on him.

He had to focus on them and not the woman who was now walking out of his life.

She was a liar, and he knew that.

She cheated on him, and he knew that.

And she probably never loved him.

But at that moment, all he knew was that she had left.

And he had let her go.

Chapter 2 Amanda brushed a tear off her face, promising herself she wouldn’t break down while she was in the arena.

She turned a corner and saw Jerome waiting by a door.

He saw her at the same time and she noticed that his face hardened.

Holding tightly to her last ounce of self-control, she stepped in front of him.

Unemotionally, she said, “Will you give him something for me?” He nodded, not even attempting to hide his contempt.

She swallowed tears and he watched as she struggled to unhook the bracelet at her wrist.

Unable to stop herself from remembering when Clay had given it to her, Amanda's fingers fumbled awkwardly.

She had thought the worst was behind them at that point.

They loved each other;

They were committed.

Only they weren't, evidently.

She finally managed to release the clasp and held out her hand.

He opened his palm and watched her drop the small silver band into it.

She nodded toward him and walked away, not aware that his gaze followed her.

He looked back down at the silver bracelet in his hand and turned it over, glancing at the inscription.

Sighing in spite of himself, he slipped it into his pocket. Amanda ignored her cell phone for the third time, seeing that it was her mom.

She laid her forehead against the steering wheel of her rental car, her head throbbing.

Her shoulders had stopped jerking a few minutes earlier when her crying subsided.

She looked at the gauges on the car blankly, but she didn’t see them.

Instead, she saw the look on Clay’s face when she had walked into his dressing room.

She should have known as soon as she got there and security had balked at letting her backstage that something was horribly wrong.

I would have never guessed it was so horribly wrong , she thought to herself.

She closed her eyes, trying to block out the image of his face when he’d first seen her.

It was replaced with his cold stare when she had left.

And she could see the look in his eyes and hear his voice when he had told her that he had never really loved her.

Wiping her nose and sniffling, she reached for the keys lying on the passenger seat and started the car.

When she handed in the keys at the airport, the young man behind the counter looked at her oddly. “Weren’t you just here a couple hours ago?” She nodded, looking at him with much effort.

“Quick trip,” she said softly. He took in her red eyes and smudged make-up and decided not to bother her.

As he looked down at the form he was required to fill out as she walked away, he read the first statement on his list – I enjoyed my vacation while using Hertz Rent-A-Car .

Glancing at her retreating back, he looked back down and circled “strongly disagree.” Clay watched his hands in the mirror as he adjusted his shirt collar under his jacket.

He didn’t think about the countless times Amanda had smoothed his lapels after he dressed.

Or the way her fingers nearly always slid down his arms afterward and then held his hands as she leaned in to kiss him gently.

He had been on autopilot since shortly after she left.

He wasn’t thinking about the fact that he’d lost the person he never thought he’d lose – that she had walked out of his life for good.

And he wasn’t thinking about how he was going to get through the show.

He knew he had to and that’s all that mattered.

He wasn’t thinking about anything until he heard a knock on his dressing room door and Jerome walked inside. “Sorry I’m so late.

They’re short on security and I figured you could be alone for a few minutes.” Clay smiled automatically and sat down to put on his shoes.

Jerome stood over him, looking down at the back of Clay’s head.

He waited a moment before speaking.

“So you broke up?” Clay’s shoulders jerked involuntarily before he nodded.

“Yes,” he said flatly. “Did she admit it?” “No.

Did you think she would?” Jerome paused.

“Kind of. Did you think she would?” His brain screamed Yes!

But he looked up and said, “No.” Jerome nodded and watched Clay tie his shoe and stand.

He looked at his watch. “You still have a few minutes.” He stared at the young man he’d grown to love over the past year and saw that despite his casual attitude, he was wound tighter than Jerome had ever seen him.

His emotions were so strongly in check that Jerome dreaded the moment when something cracked the carefully constructed wall he had put up.

Clay had been working on anger for so many days that it was disconcerting to see nothing when he looked at him.

Although he had made his decision days earlier, even Jerome felt a sense of finality now that they had actually ended the relationship.

Jerome’s hand brushed against the bracelet in his pocked and he decided to wait to give it to the younger man.

A few minutes later, as he took his position in front of the stage after Clay was safely into his first song, he glanced at the him and sent up a silent prayer that the inevitable breakdown wouldn’t be on stage. Amanda glanced at her cell phone as it lit up with another ring.

It was laying on the seat next to her in the departure lounge.

It seemed there weren’t a host of flights that left Long Island and flew to Los Angeles and the ones that did were full.

She was on standby and the stacks of month-old magazines were doing little to distract her attention.

She’d made a decision on the way to the airport that she wasn’t going to answer her phone.

Everyone would have to wait until the next day to hear about her trip.

She laughed derisively – could it even be called a trip?

She was looking at spending more than twelve hours on a plane in one day, broken only by a brief interlude that had managed to completely change her life.

When they had told her there weren’t any seats available on the next flight, she had contemplated forgoing Los Angeles for the next flight to Louisville and driving home from there.

The thought of facing her parents, however, was too daunting.

She looked up at a slight commotion and then hated herself for the momentary delusion that maybe Clay was there and had come to his senses.

It was just the security guards dealing with a loiterer.

She stood, walking to the windows that looked out onto the runway.

It was already dark outside and a glance at her watch told her that Clay was well into his set list.

She wrapped her arms around herself and leaned her shoulder against the glass.

The air was frigid on the other side, chilling her on the outside to match her inner cold.

Not feeling like moving, she inwardly groaned when she felt someone sidle up next to her.

The last thing she needed was someone who felt the need to make conversation.

She nevertheless smiled at the man next to her, guessing him to be in his late-sixties. “Nice night out there.

Still cold, though.

Weatherman said it was supposed to be warmer, but I guess he miscalculated,” he said, smiling.

He was wearing a tweed jacket and another quick glance confirmed that it had elbow patches.

She half expected him to pull out a pipe and a quizzing glass. “Oh, really?

I’m not from the area,” she said softly. He laughed.

“As I would have gathered from your accent.

Visiting family up here?” She looked back out the window.

“Something like that.” The older gentleman watched her, she was aware.

He was studying her profile in silence.

“Myself, I’m on my way to Denver.” Amanda mentally stilled at the mention of Colorado.

She stubbornly refused to let her mind wander.

“Business or pleasure?” He chuckled.

“At my age, it’s always pleasure.

I’m retired. Thirty-five years in academia.

My granddaughter just had a baby – my first great-grandchild.

Great-grandpa is going to visit.” Amanda smiled at him, meeting his gaze.

“That’s wonderful.

Congratulations. A boy or a girl?” “Little boy.

Named him Mark.” She extended her hand with another small smile.

“My name is Amanda.” "Henry.

Nice to meet you.” He smiled, rocking back on his heels.

“Where are you hoping to fly to?” “Los Angeles,” she said, looking out the window. “Ah – a warmer climate does sound nice.

You live there?” She nodded.

“I just…I moved there not long ago.” “For your job?” She swallowed over the lump in her throat, her momentary distraction suddenly failing her.

“Not exactly. I moved to be with someone.” Henry watched her swallow again, noticing how her jaw tightened and how she blinked rapidly.

He glanced down and saw that her knuckles had turned white with her grip on the rail along the window.

There wasn’t a ring on her finger, he noticed.

Or a lighter place where one had been.

He assumed whoever the someone had been, at least it hadn’t been too serious.

He patted her hand lightly.

“Hopefully it will all work out.” She didn’t look in his direction and he wasn’t sure that she heard him speak.

He patted her hand again and left her at the window, continuing to watch her from his seat in the departure lounge.

She stayed at the window, never turning to look in his direction, but he saw her wipe her face periodically.

When their flight was finally called and they boarded, he was happy to see that no one was seated beside her.

He caught himself watching her closely until she turned off her overhead light and asked the flight attendant for a blanket.

She had her back turned to him as she appeared to sleep.

He had a feeling she was wide-awake, however. Amanda took a deep breath and wiped her nose on the blanket that the flight attendant had brought her, keeping herself turned toward the window.

At least if she was going to cry, no one was going to watch. Clay mechanically went about fixing himself something to eat.

Kelly was chattering away about something – he wasn’t listening.

If I can make it until the microwave dings, I’ll be fine , he thought.

The bus had just left the venue and he had waved animatedly like he always did.

The fans were far enough away that they couldn’t see his eyes, thankfully.

He glanced at Kelly as she flopped in a chair, still talking excitedly. “Did you see that woman in the third row?” she asked, laughing.

“She was all decked out for you.

Hat, shirt, pants, sign, blinkie lights, the whole works.” “I saw her,” he said flatly.

He closed his eyes tightly.

The woman Kelly was talking about had been about Amanda’s height and had blonde hair.

She looked nothing like Amanda, but at the moment the resemblance was enough to make him reconsider eating. Kelly stole a quick glance at Clay, noticing that he had closed his eyes.

She’d had a quick conversation with Jerome while Clay had been in the shower after the show, so she knew what had happened.

Jerome had told her not to bring it up, let Clay have his space, and try to be upbeat.

She was trying her hardest, but he was clearly in no mood. “I’m beat,” she announced, standing.

“I think I’ll head to bed.” He nodded at her and she started to walk past him to her bunk.

She paused by his shoulder and put her hand on his back briefly.

She opened her mouth to say something and felt him take a deep breath.

She glanced at his profile and then closed her mouth, patting his back softly before leaving him alone and pulling the drapes closed on her bunk. Clay was still standing in front of the microwave that had beeped several moments before.

He was staring into space and it wasn’t until the bus made a sharp curve and his hips slammed into the counter that he realized how long he’d been standing there.

He took his dinner out of the microwave and tossed it into the trashcan before sitting down on the couch.

He rubbed his hands over his face roughly, sighing from behind them.

The show had been a perfect distraction.

Now he didn’t have any responsibilities – no one wanting to talk to him, no one wanting a piece of his time.

He was left to his own thoughts and that’s exactly what he didn’t want.

He adjusted the pillows on the couch and stretched out, one arm thrown over his eyes.

As the bus bumped along, he resigned himself to the fact that he was probably going to have another sleepless night.

He wondered how many consecutive sleepless nights a person could have before they started to take their toll.

Slipping his arm off his face, he stared up at the ceiling, his eyes fixated on the row of lights that ran around the top of the bus.

He could see part of his reflection behind them and fixated on the fingers of his left hand that were slowly moving over the edge of the pillow behind his head.

Closing his eyes again, he swallowed with difficulty and gave in to the inevitable.

Chapter 3 One Month Earlier Amanda pushed her door open, smiling and cradling her phone against her shoulder.

“No one made fun of my accent, Mom – I promise!” “And all your professors were okay with your situation?” She tossed her bag on the couch and slipped off her shoes quickly.

“Yep. I had already talked to one of my professors beforehand.

And the other three were fine.

I also made appointments to talk to the new professors I’ll be having in March – to let them know about my situation.” “So, did you like all your classes?” “They were great!

Really, really great.

Granted, I’ve only been to one class meeting, but the students were nice, the professors were nice, I love the campus.

It couldn’t have gone better.” She sat down on the couch and pulled at a thread idly.

“A guy even flirted with me,” she said, laughing. “Amanda!” “I didn’t flirt back!

I told him I had a boyfriend and he immediately backed off.

It’s not like it’s tattooed on my forehead, Mom.

He didn’t know.” “Who is the guy?” She glanced at the clock, wondering when Clay would be home from rehearsal.

“What?” “Who is the guy that flirted with you?” “Um…his name is Jason.

No…that’s not right.

Jeremy? Yes, Jeremy.

I think he plays on the soccer team.” “What did he do?” “He just asked if I wanted to go out to dinner sometime.

When I told him I was attached, he laughed and said, ‘dang…shot down the first time.

How about dinner as a possible friend, then?’” “Amanda, I’d be careful.” She rolled her eyes.

“Relax, Mom. He’s not even my type.” She started to elaborate and her call waiting beeped.

Looking at her phone, she smiled.

“Mom, that’s Clay.

I’ll call you later, okay?” They hung up and she clicked over to the other call.

“Hi there,” she said, smiling at the phone. “How’s my favorite student?” She laughed into his ear and Clay felt himself smiling.

“She’s just fine.

She was a hit, in fact.” “Really?

I told you everything would be fine.” She ran her hand across the couch.

“You think you’re right all the time, don’t you?” He chuckled.

“Well, the evidence speaks for itself, Darlin’.” Laughing, she said, “When will you be done?” “I’m on my way to your apartment as we speak.

Go ahead and start dinner.” “I don’t remember agreeing to cook for you.” He laughed.

“Fine. If you don’t cook, I can’t cook.

I guess we’ll just have to find something else to do.” “Anything in mind?” she asked, standing and stretching. “Well, you can tell me about your day to start with.” Amanda walked into her bedroom and opened her closet door.

“Ok. That sounds like fun.

But it won’t take long.” “You mean I have to come up with something else for us to do?” he asked, feigning exasperation. “I’m afraid so.” He pretended to think, making exaggerated huffs and sighs.

“I just don’t know.

I suppose we could take a nap.

I’ve had a hard day.” “A nap this late in the afternoon?” Amanda asked, changing clothes quietly. He yawned dramatically.

“See? I’m tired.” She sighed.

“If that’s what you want, I suppose I can try .” “It would mean a lot to me,” he said, overly sincere.

He shut off his car and walked toward her front door, still on the phone.

“Is your door unlocked?” “Mmhmm.” He pushed the door open and then shut it behind him, locking it.

After kicking his shoes off in the living room, he walked down the hall, the phone still to his ear.

In her doorway, he looked at her across the room.

Speaking into the phone, he said softy, “If you wore that to class, I understand why it went so well.” Amanda smiled at him across the room and spoke into her own phone in a low voice.

“Just getting ready for our nap .” Clay smirked and ended his call, slipping his phone into the pocket of his jeans.

He curled a finger at her and she walked toward him slowly, stopping when her hair brushed against his chin.

“You forgot your pajamas,” she said quietly, pressing her lips to the patch of skin exposed at the top of his shirt. “Oops.” He wrapped his arm around her waist, forcing her head back and lowering his mouth to hers.

After pressing a slow kiss to her lips, he lifted his head and smiled at her.

“Maybe I’m not so tired after all.” One of Amanda’s hands slid into his pocket, and Clay’s grin broadened.

“Looking for something, Sweetheart?” She smiled slowly, her eyes twinkling as she took her time “searching” for his phone.

“Actually, yes I am looking for something.” Clay’s grip tightened on her waist, his eyes still locked with hers.

His body jerked involuntarily as her fingers whispered over the growing length of him.

“I think you found it,” he managed, his voice rising slightly.

When she chuckled and he felt her touch leave him as she pulled his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open, Clay’s brow knitted in confusion.

“This is not a time to make a phone call, Amanda.

If you want to reach out and touch someone .

. .,” he pointed to himself.

To a part of himself.

“Look no further.” Amanda bit her lip to keep from laughing, her eyes lowered to the phone.

“I just remembered that I haven’t talked to my pastor at home in a long time.

I think I should give him a call.” The warning in Clay’s voice did not escape her attention.

“Amanda…” “Just to see how he’s doing, you know?

Maybe have a little prayer on the phone.” Clay’s fingers wrapped around the phone and pulled it out of her hand easily.

As she looked up, he tossed it onto a nearby chair and reached for the top button of his shirt.

“I promise you that you’ll be talking to God in a few minutes, Darlin’, but it’s not going to be on the phone.” Reaching behind her back and deftly unhooking her bra, Amanda watched Clay’s eyes follow the skiff of lace as it fell to the floor with a soft noise.

His gaze slowly traveled up again, finally colliding with hers.

Mimicking his earlier motion, she curled her finger at him, her fingers freeing the next button on his shirt as he stopped in front of her.

“Clay?” It took him a moment to answer, his attention riveted on the way she slowly unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders.

When she bent her head and flicked his nipple with her tongue, his mouth went dry.

“Huh?” Amanda smiled against his chest, hearing the crack in his voice.

She lifted her eyes to his as she spoke, his jeans being quickly unbuttoned and the zipper lowered.

“About that promise…” He stepped out of his jeans as she pushed them to the floor and then groaned, burying his face in her hair, as her hands delved inside his boxers.

“Yeah?” he choked out. Stepping away from him, Amanda backed up until the softness of the comforter tickled her thighs.

Her gaze still holding his, she hopped onto the bed and leaned back, propping herself up on her elbows.

“Keep it.” Clay was rubbing Amanda’s feet lightly as they lay in his lap.

“What about your last class?

It went okay, also?” She nodded, smiling.

“I can’t believe how smoothly everything went.

You know me – I thought no one would talk to me, I would forget where all the buildings were and make a complete fool of myself.” He laughed and tickled the bottom of her foot.

“You underestimate yourself.” She smiled at him and he ran his hand over her leg.

“What about the other people in your classes?

Nice?” “Yep. There’s one girl – Meredith – who is in two of my four classes.

She seems really great.

She started talking to me as soon as I sat down.

By the end of the day, I had joined her study group and had promised that we would have dinner sometime.

There’s another girl named Janice who also seemed really sweet.

She’s Meredith’s friend.

I found out at lunch that there is this crew of them that all hang out together: Meredith, Janice, Janice’s boyfriend, Mason, a girl named Crystal, this guy named Jeremy, and his friend, Bryan.” “You met them all?” She nodded.

“I ate lunch with all of them except Jeremy.

I met him later – he was in my last class.” She laughed softly.

“He asked me out.” Clay looked at her sharply.

“What? On a date?” Amanda giggled.

“Yeah. We were just chatting and he asked me out to dinner.

I realized what he was doing and told him that I had a boyfriend.

I think I embarrassed him – he kept apologizing.” Clay shifted on the couch.

“What’s this Jeremy guy like?” She stared at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you jealous?

He didn’t know I had a boyfriend, Clay.” “I know that.

I’m just curious.” She laughed, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

“Um, he’s nice, I guess.

He’s an English major with an emphasis in children’s literature.

He’s also on the soccer team, I think.

I’m not sure, but I think he and Meredith used to date.

Just a feeling I got from him when I mentioned that I had met her.” “You think he’s cute?” Amanda rolled her eyes.

“Oh, yes. He’s hot stuff.” “Amanda!” She laughed, smacking his shoulder.

“He’s normal looking.” “Define normal.” She leveled her gaze, a little irritated.

“Why are we talking about him – a guy I barely know?” “I’m just curious!” She nodded, watching him carefully.

“Sure you are.” He continued to look at her and she sighed.

“He’s about your height – maybe a bit taller.

Blonde hair, blue eyes, not too bulky or muscular, but in good shape.” She shrugged. Clay digested that information and pushed his sudden flair of jealousy aside.

Watching her face, he smiled knowingly and asked, “How are his hands?” He wondered if she ever regretted informing him of that little weakness of hers. Amanda laughed loudly.

He certainly got a lot of mileage out of her weaknesses – which was precisely why she had told him about them in the first place.

“I didn’t notice.” She pulled her legs out of his lap and scooted across the couch until she was sitting astride his lap.

Finding his hand, she ran her fingers over his palm slowly.

“Now these hands – I notice them.” When she took both his hands and slipped them onto her hips before leaning in to press her lips to his, he promptly forgot about Jeremy and most everything else.

Chapter 4 Clay switched off the TV and stood, glancing out Amanda’s apartment window.

He looked at his watch again and wondered what was keeping her.

He’d had a break in rehearsals and they were supposed to carry out a covert plan to go rent movies together and somehow refrain from being noticed.

She’d told him five-thirty and it was almost quarter-till six and there was no sign of her.

Just as he had decided to call her in case something was wrong, he saw a car pull up and noticed Amanda in the passenger seat.

His mouth formed a firm line when he saw the driver.

Jeremy. He’d resigned himself to the fact that he was not going to like some of Amanda’s new friends.

Especially her new friends who were the epitome of his worst nightmare and who seemed unnaturally chummy with her after such a short time.

His conscience pricked him every time he started to get jealous, aware that Amanda had a whole host of new friends and Mr.

Athletic English Major was only one of them.

Even then, he saw that there were three other people in the backseat as Amanda got out of the car.

She was halfway up the walkway when Jeremy hopped out of the car with something in his hand.

He heard her shriek and run to get whatever the other man was holding out.

Her purse, he identified.

She was talking animatedly, laughing at her forgetfulness no doubt, and he gritted his teeth at the way Jeremy was smiling back at her.

When the other man put a hand on Amanda’s shoulder and squeezed slightly, Clay automatically started toward the door.

He checked the motion and resumed his watch from behind her sheer curtains.

She was laughing at something and then waved to the others in the car before turning to leave.

He watched Jeremy’s hand leave her shoulder and slide down her arm as she turned toward the door.

When she opened the door, he saw that Jeremy was still watching her.

And his gaze was about two feet south of where it should have been. Feeling like a jealous jerk, he nevertheless had a frown on his face when she turned to him, smiling. “Hey!

Sorry I’m late. We lost track of time and then Meredith couldn’t find her keys, so we spent ten minutes looking for them.

Let me change and we’ll go to the store.” “Don’t you think Jeremy is a bit too touchy-feely with you?” Clay asked shortly. Amanda stopped, surprised.

She put down her purse and crossed her arms over her chest.

“What?” “He just slid his hand down your arm.” She shrugged.

“He’s like that with everyone.” “Even with girls who have practically live-in boyfriends?

Excuse me, fiancés?” She met his gaze levelly.

“Clay, how many times have I seen you do very similar things to girls you don’t know?

At least Jeremy is a friend of mine.” He scoffed.

“That makes it okay?

Better to be groped by a friend than a stranger, I suppose!” “Groped?

You’re insane!” she said, staring at him.

“He certainly didn’t grope me.

Clay, look, you’re overreacting.

Jeremy knows that I have a boyfr—” “I know he knows!

I just don’t think he cares!” Amanda rubbed her temples lightly.

“We’re not doing this.

I’m not arguing with you over this again.” “Again?” She met his gaze.

“Every time I mention his name, you snap at me.” “Well, I don’t like him!” Amanda laughed in spite of herself.

“Clay, Honey, calm down.” She walked closer to him and slipped her arms around his waist.

“He’s my friend. That’s all.

And he knows that’s all there will ever be.” Clay stared down at her, feeling his anger subside slightly.

“But he wants you.” She smiled.

“Would you like to talk about the millions of women who want you on a daily basis?” “That’s different and you know it.” “True.

But the chances of you hooking up with one of those women is about the same as the chances of me hooking up with Jeremy.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek gently.

“Why does he bother you so much?” Clay looked down at her face, watching her smile at him, her expression soft.

He wondered the same thing as he attempted to push his irritation aside.

“Because I’m evidently a selfish jerk who can’t get it through his thick skull that he gets irrationally jealous for no reason.” Amanda laughed and pressed her lips to his before laying her head against his chest.

“I promise you, Clay, he doesn’t even feel that way about me.

He’s interested in someone else.” He leaned back.

“Really?” She nodded, feeling a tad guilty for her lie.

Jeremy wasn’t interested in anyone else that she knew of, but she also knew that there was nothing going on between the two of them and he’d been a good friend to her in the short time she had known him.

If her little white lie made Clay feel better, it was worth it.

“Mmhmm. Some girl from one of his other classes.” “Is she blonde with blue eyes and a gorgeous set of lips that beg to be kissed?” She laughed.

“No, why?” He smiled and lowered his head to kiss her.

“Just checking.” Amanda rolled onto her stomach, the ringing phone beginning to wake her.

She reached for the phone blindly and pushed herself up in the bed as she answered.

“Hello?” “Why are you still in bed?” Clay asked quickly. She glanced at the clock and yawned.

“It’s just ten. My flight isn’t until two.” “Two?

I thought it was earlier.

You mean you won’t be getting here until like,” he paused to figure out the time difference, “eleven tonight?” She yawned again.

“It was the earliest flight I could get on short notice.

If you want me there a day early, it’s the only way.” She had agreed, somewhat reluctantly, to skip classes on Monday so that she could fly to Charlotte the day before his first show. “Where were you last night?” Amanda rubbed her eyes sleepily.

“What? I was here.” “No, you weren’t.

I called just before midnight here and you were out.” “You called my cell phone?” “No, your apartment.” She struggled to wake up fully.

“Oh. Like nine here?

I guess I was still at the library.

Yeah. I was at the library,” she said, finally feeling coherent. Clay pushed his irritation aside with some effort.

Why was it so hard for her to remember that she wasn’t home last night?

“Studying?” She yawned and laughed.

“ I wasn’t. I was just trying to help the others out.

They have a test today in one of their classes, and I was quizzing them.” “Jeremy was there?” he asked, his voice accusing. She fought a sigh.

“Yes.” “What time did you get home?” She caught his tone.

“Clay, don’t grill me like this.

I got home around eleven.

You should have called my cell phone if you needed me.” “I didn’t need you.

I just wanted to tell you goodnight like we usually do.

Did you not wonder if something was wrong when I didn’t call?” She shrugged.

“You’re busy. I figured you forgot.” “Have I ever forgotten before?

Why are you being so nonchalant about this?” The twinge of annoyance she had felt before suddenly flared into full-blown irritation.

“Clay, why are you being so persistent?

I’ve told you nine hundred and seventy-five times that you’re overreacting and reading too much into things and you won’t listen.

I’m tired of defending myself!” “Why do you feel the need to defend yourself?

Do you feel guilty about something?” She sucked in a sharp breath.

“I feel the need to defend myself because you keep insinuating that something is going on.” “Well, I keep getting that impression.

Aren’t you at least a little concerned that I keep feeling this way?” “Yes, I’m concerned.

I’m concerned that you don’t trust me to have enough sense to know when there’s a problem or when someone is hitting on me.” “Amanda, look, I know about guys like him.

I know how they—” “Clay, stop it.

We’re not doing this again.

I’m sick and tired of defending both my friends and myself.

You do not know him.

There is nothing going on.

Yes, Jeremy asked me out – once when he first met me.

Since then he has been nothing but respectful and has never made any overtones that he ‘wants’ me.

It’s all.in.your.head,” she said slowly. “Oh, and I suppose he stares at your ass because he likes the pants you wear.

I’m not blind, Amanda.

Or wacky. If you’re attracted to him, just tell me!” She groaned loudly and got of bed, needing to pace.

“Number one, he doesn’t stare at my ass .

Number two, I never said you were wacky.

Number three, I’m not attracted to him!” Clay went silent, and she could hear him breathing against the phone.

He let out a loud sigh.

“Fine. Just give me a call when you get here.

Nick said he would drive me to the airport to pick you up.

I’m having dinner in Raleigh tonight – with Mom and Brett.

I’ll see you when you get here.” Amanda closed her eyes, trying not to feel panicky.

“Clay, don’t be mad at me.” “I’m not mad at you .” “It sure seems that way.” He paused.

“Amanda, I don’t trust him.

And I don’t think you see what he’s really like.” She scoffed.

“What he’s really like?

You don’t even know him!

You’re just assuming you know what he’s like because he’s tall and athletic and I have the gumption to spend time with a guy who is not you!” “We’ll talk about it later.

I have to go.” “Fine.

Bye.” “Bye.” Clay shut off his phone angrily and tossed it on the table next to him.

He ran a quick hand through his hair, standing.

Chewing on his lip absently, he fought to calm his nerves.

Maybe she was right.

Maybe he was overreacting.

It was entirely possible that he was jealous because there was another guy in her life – even if that guy was only a friend.

Because she had moved to be with him and left all of her friends behind, he had never had to share her with anyone - period.

Before he could examine it any further, his phone rang and he was caught up in a dozen different things that he had to do. Amanda looked at the phone in her hand, fighting the urge to call him back.

She was just angry enough with him and just stubborn enough that she laid the phone down.

He was the one being irrational.

It was his job to apologize and smooth things over.

Chapter 5 Clay tapped his fingers on the car door, waiting for Nick to come out with Amanda.

I will not snap at her , he reminded himself.

Nick and he had had a long conversation on the way back from Raleigh, and he had admitted to his friend that he would have been jealous no matter who the guy was.

The fact was – he was leaving for two months and Amanda was going to be around some other guy.

It didn’t matter that it wasn’t romantically – there was still another guy.

He did have a nagging suspicion about Jeremy, but he chalked it up to the stress of the tour.

If he kept bothering her about it, she might really get angry with him and he might drive her away.

That thought firmly in mind, he spotted Nick and Amanda headed toward the car.

They were chatting and Amanda laughed at something Nick said.

He was in the backseat, and he opened the door as they got closer to the car.

Nick put Amanda’s overnight bag in the trunk as she slid in beside him. “Hi, there,” she said quietly, looking at him a little hesitantly. He laughed softly.

“Don’t be weird around me!” He put an arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple gently.

“I’m sorry about earlier.

I was rude.” She turned to face him and her eyes searched his as she smiled.

“Yes, you were. And I’m sorry, too – for the argument.” She leaned in and kissed him quickly before Nick opened the door.

“You know I’m crazy about you.” He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“I know.” He kept his arm around her during the ride back to his hotel.

When they arrived, he was suddenly glad her flight had been so late.

It was easier to slip inside unnoticed at that time of night.

Once inside his room, he watched her walk to the windows and open the curtains, looking out.

He walked up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist, watching the reflection of his hands in the window as they settled on her stomach.

He blew her hair off her neck and kissed the back of it softly.

“I love you.” He watched her slide her hands over his arm and then settle on top of his fingers, rubbing them lightly.

“Then trust me.” He nodded, making eye contact with her in their reflection.

She met his gaze for a few moments before reaching for the cord of the drapes and pulling them closed.

She turned around in his arms slowly and linked her hands behind his back.

“I love you, too.” He smiled and pulled her closer, burying his head in her hair.

“I’m anxious for tomorrow,” he said quietly. “Anxious or nervous?” “Both.” She pulled back.

“The nerves will subside, won’t they?” He nodded.

“Sure. They always do.

But this is something new.

It’ll take at least a few shows before I’m completely comfortable.” She was silent and she could feel his steady breathing against her hair, his breath warming the spot where his lips touched her.

She listened to him for a few minutes before she rubbed his back gently. “You probably need a good night’s rest for tomorrow.” He glanced down at her and smiled slightly.

“Are you saying you’re ready to go to bed?” She laughed and kissed his cheek.

“I’m saying exactly what I said – you probably need a good night’s rest.” She pulled away, and he watched her walk into the bedroom. “Yes, I probably do.

Are you going to let me get one?” She reappeared in the doorway and looked at her watch.

“It’s after midnight now.

If you sleep until noon, you can get nine or ten hours of sleep.” He grinned.

“That leaves a couple hours unaccounted for, Sweetheart.” She tilted her head to the side and winked at him.

“If you’d join me, we can get started on accounting for them.” Clay stretched and rolled over, sliding his arm over the bed and intending to wake Amanda up properly.

When his hand skimmed over her empty spot, he opened his eyes and stared at the rumpled sheets in confusion.

Then he heard her talking in the other room.

Smiling and sitting up on the edge of the bed, he listened to her laugh.

She was talking as he walked into the room. “Probably not until Friday.

Tell everyone hello for me.” She paused and listened to whatever the other person was saying and then laughed again.

“Right. I’m sure you’ll make it without me.” She said goodbye soon after and hung up, jumping when he spoke. “Who was that?” He saw her hesitate before she looked up at him and sighed.

“It was Jeremy, but don’t get mad.” He couldn’t help the frown that crossed his features.

“What did he want?” She was watching his reaction carefully.

“Just saying hi. Telling me about class yesterday.” Clay sat down on the couch next to her.

“He has to call you while you’re away to tell you about class?

Why don’t the other people call you?” “They do.

I’m sure Meredith or Janice will call later.” “Ok, let me rephrase.

Why don’t the other guys call you?” She leveled her gaze.

“Clay,” she warned.

He didn’t budge and she sighed again, tucking her leg beneath her.

“Because I’m not as close to them.

Meredith, Janice, Jeremy, and I are in the same study group – we spend a lot of time together.” “What did you mean when you told him he’d be fine without you?

What’s his problem?” She closed her eyes briefly, mentally groaning.

“He was panicking because he has to give a presentation tomorrow and I’m not going to be around to help him practice.” “He’s a big boy from what I saw.

I think he can handle it.” She stood a little angrily.

“Yes, he can. But friends tend to help friends with things like that.

Clay, don’t start this today.” He watched her walk away from him, irritated with himself for pushing the issue incessantly.

Something about the guy just rankled him.

“Sorry. I just woke up and expected to find you next to me and found you on the phone with him instead.

Didn’t put me in the best mood.” “He called, and I didn’t want to wake you,” she explained, turning around. Or you had something to hide , his mind pointed out.

Rather than voice that accusation – which he knew was just the jealousy talking – he stuck out his hand.

“Seems I’m constantly asking for forgiveness.

Why do you keep forgiving me?” She smiled and pulled him off the couch, enjoying the way his body – still warm from sleep – fit against hers.

“I have no idea. You certainly don’t deserve it.” She nipped his earlobe and then grinned at him.

“Now…was there any particular reason you were expecting to find me next to you?” The corner of his lips turned upward as he lowered his gaze to her mouth.

“I did have something in mind.” Her fingers tickling the back of his neck lightly, Amanda lowered her voice.

“Care to share it with me?” Clay told himself to let go of his jealousy.

She loved him. It was written all over her face and in every gentle movement she made.

His voice was a whisper as he smiled.

“Well, I was thinking that I would order some breakfast.” “ Food breakfast, I assume?” she asked, the soft timbre of his voice soothing her nerves from their argument. He nodded, bending his head and nuzzling her neck.

His lips grazed her throat lightly as he planted small kisses over her neck and jaw.

“And while we wait for the food, I was thinking I would take you into the bathroom and peel off those pajamas.” Amanda was grateful for the way his arm curved around her waist.

Between the sound of his voice and the way each whispered word seemed to work its way from her ear to the center of her being, she felt delightfully relaxed.

“Mmhmm. And then what?” “Well, I would take off my pajamas, too.” He kissed her.

“Or maybe I would let you do that.” “I would love to do that,” she murmured.

The faint smell of his cologne from the day before surrounded her each time she inhaled, mixed with the scent that was his and his alone. “And then we could take a shower,” he whispered, his lips moving lightly over her face.

He dotted her forehead, her eyelids, her nose, and her lips with kisses so achingly tender that Amanda felt a lump of emotion form in her throat.

She hoped the way he loved her would never stop overwhelming her.

“And I would gently wash you.” He smiled against her cheek, his lips close to hers.

“I wouldn’t even cop a feel.” Amanda laughed softly, her hands sneaking under his t-shirt and finding the smooth warmth of his back.

“You wouldn’t?” “Well, not at first.” His husky chuckle made her shiver as it reverberated in her ear.

“After we got out of the shower, I would dry you off, kissing every inch of you.

And then I would carry you into the bedroom and slowly make love to you.” The soft moan that left her lips elicited another chuckle from Clay, and he felt her fingers slide over his back with an even lazier touch.

She fit so perfectly against him.

She smelled of sleep and perfume and woman, and he could feel himself falling completely under her spell.

The littlest sound leaving her lips wrapped itself around his heart, and he wondered for the millionth time what he had done to deserve her;

To deserve what they had.

Hearing her take a shaky breath, he felt the same trembling inside him as she spoke with a small smile in her voice.

“Won’t we need another shower, then?” His arm tightened around her, his face against hers as he whispered kisses against her lips.

“Mmmhmm. See the brilliance of my plan?” Amanda watched Clay pace back and forth across his dressing room.

“How many songs does she have left?” “Two,” he said shortly, stopping and bouncing on his heels.

He was keyed up for the show and trying to use his excitement to combat his nerves. From her place on the couch, she marveled at his focus.

He was barely aware that she was in the room.

She used his distraction to shamelessly enjoy looking at him.

She didn’t know when John had bought those gray, pinstriped pants for him, but she intended to thank the man for it.

“I think I’ll go on out so I can watch your entrance,” she said, standing.

He glanced at her when she spoke and opened his arms, waving her into them.

He closed his arms around her and kissed her temple. “I love you.

Make sure I can see you from the stage.” She laughed.

“I’m just going where Jerome told me to go.

It’s on the left side if you’re looking at the stage.” He nodded and then tilted her chin up, kissing her soundly.

When he lifted his head, he smiled.

“Now I’m ready.” She winked and turned to leave, blowing him a kiss before she shut the door. A little over an hour later when she watched him slip off the stage, she quickly went to the spot Jerome had pointed out and pulled a pass out of her purse to get backstage.

Clay was already in his dressing room when she got to it.

He was hopping around like before the show, only this time there wasn’t a hint of nervousness.

He grinned as soon as he saw her. “So?” She crossed her arms and smiled at him.

“Is the whole point for Angela to seduce you or for you to seduce her?

Or is the point to drive me insane watching another woman touch you?” He threw back his head and laughed before he reached for her and pulled her against him.

She intended to make another sarcastic remark, but he opened his mouth on hers.

She had forgotten how high his adrenaline was after a show and she soon found herself pressed up against the wall of his dressing room and wondering just how sound proof the walls were.

He lifted his head suddenly, his breathing ragged as he stared down at her.

There was raw passion in his eyes and she whimpered before he slid his hands down her arms and found hers, holding them against the wall beside her head as he captured her mouth with his again.

She struggled to free her hands, sliding them over his shoulders when he released them.

Her hands slid into his hair, holding his mouth against hers and causing him to groan as he moved his hips against her restlessly.

His hands slid over her sides and tightened on her hips, pulling her flush against him as he lifted his head and looked at her hotly. “You need to stay until Tampa,” he said thickly. It took her a moment to process that he was talking and that it wasn’t an emphatic suggestion of what they should do next.

She blinked slowly and licked her lips, a jolt running through her when his gaze dropped to her lips and he shifted his hips against her again.

“What?” “There’s no place here.

The bus won’t work.

It will be after tomorrow night before I’m in a hotel again.” He paused and lifted his eyes to hers.

“And we need to be alone.” She laughed softly and slipped her leg between his.

“That’s fairly obvious.” He grinned and lowered his head, kissing her leisurely this time, making sure she felt every slow, deliberate movement of his lips.

When his fingers slipped beneath her sweater and skimmed over her lower back, she shivered and inadvertently broke their contact.

He had mussed her hair so that it was in her face and a piece fluttered with every quick release of her breath.

She brushed it away hastily and slid her hands up his chest, enjoying the way his heart was pounding against her palm.

When she pulled his lips back to hers, he moaned against her mouth and his hands moved to her hips again, picking her up slightly and angling her against him as he sought a more intimate fit.

It was a dangerous move, considering they were in a public place, and they both knew it instantly.

Clay’s lips slipped off Amanda’s for a moment as he adjusted his grip on her and her legs wrapped around his waist. “This is getting interesting,” he murmured against her mouth, making her chuckle before he parted her lips with his and resumed his slow devouring of her. “Clay!” Jerome bellowed.

Clay was startled enough that he lost his grip on Amanda and she fell against the wall.

He grabbed her before she could fall the rest of the way down, holding her awkwardly.

Jerome shut the door behind him with a snap.

“Are you insane? That door was un locked!

Anyone could have walked in!

Do you have any idea what would have happened if it hadn’t been me?” “Don’t you knock?!” Clay asked, still vainly trying to shield both of them from his friend's eyes. “I did knock.

You didn’t hear me – obviously.” Clay could feel his face flushing and a quick glance at Amanda found her leaning her head against his shoulder with her eyes closed.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“I wasn’t thinking.” Jerome nodded.

“I can see that.” He had a paper rolled in his hand and was smacking his thigh with it.

“Are you aware that you have a meet and greet to go to?” He turned his gaze to Amanda.

“And are you aware that there is a car outside ready to take you to the airport?” They both nodded slowly and he exhaled in a huff.

“I’ll leave you alone for a few minutes to…to get ready.” He made eye contact with Clay.

“Try thinking with your head for a change.” With that, he turned and shut the door behind him soundly. Amanda groaned and laid her head against Clay’s shoulder again.

He laughed softly and began to extract himself from their awkward position.

“He’ll calm down.

He was probably more worried about someone hearing something than actually walking in.” “Still,” she said, suddenly colder without Clay’s body pressed against hers. “It’s fine.

I promise,” he said, smiling.

He put a decent amount of distance between them and focused his mind on other things like digging through his bag for a pair of pajamas.

“I need to get a shower before the meet and greet.” He glanced at her.

“You can still reconsider about Tampa, you know.” She smiled, but shook her head.

“As much as I agree that we need to be alone – especially at the moment – I can’t stay until Tampa.” She glanced at her watch.

“Jerome just said there was a car outside and my flight leaves in a little over an hour.

I have to be back by Friday.

I promised.” She had stepped past him and didn’t see his mouth drop open when she spoke. “You promised?

You promised who?” She was looking for her purse that she had dropped when he grabbed her and didn’t notice his tone.

“Everyone. I told them I would be in class on Friday.” Clay crossed his arms angrily.

“And that promise means more than your promise to me?” Between the proverbial bucket of ice water Jerome had thrown on him and his already frayed nerves where her “friends” were concerned, he was more than a little irritated.

And probably irrational, he knew. She looked at him suddenly, hearing his voice sharpen.

“What promise to you?” “Oh, nothing.

Just the fact that you promised to spend the rest of your life with me,” he said testily. She put her hands on her hips.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” “We’re engaged, aren’t we?

I thought that meant something.” Amanda took a deep breath, refusing to rise to his bait.

“It does mean something.

But it doesn’t mean that my life stops for you.

And it doesn’t mean that every time we get hot for each other, I’m supposed to put everything else on hold until you’re satisfied.” “Me?

Are you saying that it’s just me who wants to be ‘satisfied’?” “That’s not what I said!” “But you implied it.

Ever since you started school, you’ve been putting them first,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt roughly. Her mouth gaped open.

“I’m putting them first?

Did you ever stop to consider the fact that maybe it’s myself that I’m putting first?

Or the fact that I missed classes yesterday so I could fly here last night to be with you?

Or the fact that I’ve told all my professors that I might have to miss class suddenly because my boyfriend might need me and I would have to fly to where he is?

Or the fact that I feel guilty for any time I spend with my friends now because I’m afraid of what you’ll say?” He tossed his shirt on the couch and reached for the button on his pants.

“If you feel guilty, maybe it’s because you have something to feel guilty about!” Amanda stopped in mid-motion.

“What?” she asked, making sure she heard him correctly. “I said,” he said loudly, “maybe you have something to feel guilty about if you feel that way!” “Clay, I hope you don’t mean that.” He stopped and looked at her pointedly.

“I do.” She stared at him in silence, shocked at how angry she had gotten so quickly.

“If you’re insinuating what I think you’re insinuating, you’re crazier than I originally thought.” He stepped in front of her, counting off on his fingers.

“Let’s examine the evidence.” A voice inside told him to cool it – walk away, take a deep breath, and stop taking out his own frustrations on her.

If the pressure of his first headlining tour, the stress already put upon their relationship by the time apart, and his uneasy feelings about Jeremy weren’t enough, he was also still painfully aware of how much he wanted her and equally aware that he had no particularly satisfying way to act on it.

His conscience was no match for his frustrated temper, and the inner voice was silenced as he continued.

“Amanda starts school and makes a bunch of new friends – one of whom is a hunky, athletic guy who immediately hits on her and then pretends he’s sorry.

Instead of putting the guy in his place like she should, Amanda becomes friends with him and laughs it off when he constantly touches her and calls her and all but declares his intentions.

Amanda ignores all the things this guy is doing and then tells her fiancé that he is the crazy one when he voices an objection.

Rather than spending more quality time with him while he starts a tour that will take him away from her for two months, Amanda wants to rush home to see her new friends – when really the only person she wants to see is this new guy.” He stopped and took a deep breath.

“What would you think?” Amanda repeated to herself that he was jealous and frustrated.

That’s why he was acting this way.

Her own strained nerves were making it difficult to keep her temper under control, but she tried to keep her voice at a normal level when she spoke.

“ I think Amanda should tell her fiancé that he is being a jerk.

She should probably stop speaking to him for a good, long time until he comes to his senses and realizes what an ass he is being.

Instead , Amanda is going to try to be the adult in this relationship and go home, hoping that Clay grows up in the meantime and stops acting like he has lost his mind.” She picked up her purse and opened the door of his dressing room, glancing at him.

He was watching her, still seething. “Don’t worry about calling me – I’m sure you’ll be too busy catching up with Jeremy.” She stared at him, refusing to be nasty in return.

“Clay, stop it. I’m going home.

You can call me when you realize how wacky you’re being.” He didn’t say anything and she shut the door behind her, trying to calm her temper as she walked outside and got into the car that was supposed to take her to the airport.

Once she left, Clay stomped around his dressing room, angry with her and even angrier with himself for losing it.

He turned on the shower with a sharp flick of his wrist, turning the knob all the way to the right.

By the time he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist, he was somewhat calmer, but only by degrees.

He had no intention of calling her that night.

And maybe not the next day, either.

If she realized how upset he really was, maybe she would finally understand and put some distance between Jeremy and herself.

Satisfied with his plan, he pulled on a pair of pajamas and tried to seem relaxed for the meet and greet for which he was currently late.

Chapter 6 After catching herself staring into space for the fourth time, Amanda shoved her books aside and stood up with a huff.

It had been almost a full day since she had left Clay’s dressing room and he still hadn’t called.

Between waiting for the phone to ring and her mind mulling over their argument, she was almost ready to give up on getting any work done.

She’d slept in after her late flight, but had made it to her last class of the day – basically an excuse to get out of the apartment.

Picking up her phone, she checked to make sure there was a dial tone for what seemed like the fifteenth time and decided she needed some air.

She checked her cell phone for any missed calls and tossed it on the couch behind her as she walked outside onto her small porch.

The sun was just setting behind her apartment and the reddish pink glow made the grass sparkle as she looked out over her tiny patch of lawn.

Sitting down, she tucked her knees against her chest and fought the urge to call him.

He was being stupid.

And he was being unfair.

But she hated to fight with him – especially when they were so far apart and both so busy.

She was picking off a loose flake of polish on her toenail and reminding herself it was his place to apologize when she heard her cell phone ring from inside the house.

Nearly breaking her neck in the process, she hurried inside to answer it only to find that it was Janice, not Clay. “Oh.

Hi, Janice.” Her friend laughed.

“That sounds enthusiastic.” Amanda smiled slightly.

“Sorry. Was expecting another call.” “I see.

No problem. I was just calling to see if you’d be interested in coming with us to Max’s tonight?” Amanda played with the edge of the couch cushion.

“Max’s?” “Close to campus.

Half price appetizers after seven o’clock on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

Half priced drinks the same time on Wednesdays.

I know you don’t drink, but neither does Meredith and she’s coming.

You seemed a little down in class today – thought you might like to get out for a while.

Music, dancing, food, friends.

What do you think?” “I don’t know…” she trailed off, unsure.

“In case I do get that phone call…” Janice paused for a moment.

“Amanda, I know you don’t like to talk about your relationship that much, but if it’s a call from your boyfriend that you’re waiting for and if he’s the reason you were upset today – I say go!

Have a little fun.

It’ll teach him not to do whatever he did.

The last time Mason gave me grief, I went shopping, had my hair done, and didn’t answer his calls all day.

He got the message.” “Is Jeremy going to be there?” She really didn’t want another argument. “No idea.

He might drop by.

Right now it’s just Meredith, Mason and I, you – hopefully, and Crystal.” Amanda debated.

If Clay called and she was out with her friends, he’d be furious.

But, he had no right to be angry.

She wasn’t doing anything wrong and he was going to have to get used to the fact that he wasn’t the only person she knew in L.A.

“I don’t know what to wear.” Janice laughed.

“I’ll be right over.” Jeremy walked into Max’s, scanning the crowd.

Bryan was in front of him and as the two turned the corner and went into the backroom of the restaurant, he spotted Amanda.

She was sitting with Meredith and a quick glance saw that Janice and Mason were also there, but were dancing.

Crystal was at the bar, chatting with some guy he didn’t know.

Bryan stopped at a table to talk to a friend of his and Jeremy grinned as he approached Amanda and Meredith. “What are two fine women like yourselves doing alone back here?” Meredith winked at him and scooted over to give him room.

He squeezed in beside Amanda instead, noticing that her eyes were a bit brighter than they had been earlier that day.

“We’re waiting for some gallant gentleman to ask us to dance.

Or buy us some food.

Either one,” Meredith said, laughing. He smiled at his ex before turning to Amanda.

“And how are you?

Better?” She smiled and he felt a jolt run through him.

There was something about her that drove him out of his mind and he couldn’t believe how desperate he was to have her. “I’m better,” she said, shrugging.

He watched her lips close around her straw and quickly raised his eyes before she noticed him staring.

“Nice to get out and forget about…get out and have a little fun,” she corrected, smiling. “Good,” he said, watching her face.

He knew she had a boyfriend.

And he believed her when she said that she loved the guy.

He also thought he knew why she was so hush-hush about their relationship.

The day he had dropped her off at her apartment, he had looked up just as she went inside and saw a guy standing in the window.

He’d have sworn the guy was Clay Aiken.

She’d never said, but he also knew that her boyfriend was “away” at the moment and that she had traveled to see him.

Those things, combined with a few minor slips she’d made while they were studying, made him fairly sure he was right.

And if everything he thought he knew about Clay Aiken were correct, she would be far better off with a guy like himself.

That guy didn’t look like he even knew what to do with a woman, let alone a woman who was currently making him squirm because she was sucking on the lemon from her iced tea.

Clearing his throat, he smiled at her again.

“How about dancing with me?” Her eyes widened slightly and she started to shake her head.

“I’m not much of a dancer.” He scoffed and leaned back in the booth, pretending to inspect her.

“I think you’re lying.

You look like you were born to dance.” She laughed and shook her head again.

“Believe me, I wasn’t.

Two left feet is only the beginning of my problem.” He scooted out of the booth and pulled on her hand.

“I don’t believe you.

You’ll have to prove it.” “Jeremy, no!

Really, I don’t want to.

I’m fine sitting here.” She turned to Meredith.

“You dance with him.” He let go of her hand, laughing.

“Way to kill a guy’s ego.

I promise I won’t step on your feet.

And if you step on mine, I’ll bring you right back here.” She started to protest and he held up a finger, smiling.

“ And I’ll buy you lunch tomorrow.” Amanda looked up at him and noticed the boyish gleam in his eyes.

He was teasing her and she was coming perilously close to being a stick in the mud.

What would it hurt to dance with the guy?

She sighed and slid out of the booth.

“Fine. But it better be a nice lunch.

Not McDonalds.” He laughed.

“Even if I take you inside instead of just going through the drive thru?” She rolled her eyes.

“Smart aleck.” Jeremy was nearly giddy with the knowledge that she was bantering back and forth with him.

He was also rather happy that she hadn’t just worn jeans and a t-shirt like he had expected.

Having a rich boyfriend must come with a clothing allowance , he thought.

Her black pants were just snug enough that he had a nice view when he let her walk in front of him to the dance floor.

They were also low-rise and he was pleased to see that her shirt was a halter top and it just skimmed the top of her pants, meaning that when he slipped his hand around her side to dance, his fingers brushed over her bare back.

He moved them away quickly before she noticed, but now he knew what it was like to touch her.

Staring down at her, he imagined what it would be like to really touch her and reminded himself to give it time.

She trusted him now.

She thought he was her friend.

And he was her friend.

But he didn’t intend to stay just her friend. Clay hung up with his mom, irritated with himself that he’d lied to her about how Amanda and he were handling being apart.

He didn’t think his answer of “we’re doing fine” was very much in line with the fact that they hadn’t spoken in twenty-four hours because they were angry at one another.

He’d been on the bus for a while, waiting until he came down from his post-concert high to call his mom.

He felt a tad guilty for calling her so late, but Faye had made him promise he would.

And he had needed to remind her to bring Raleigh to Winston-Salem, anyway.

He pulled on the fabric at the knee of his pajama pants, debating giving in and calling Amanda.

He knew it was his place to apologize.

Leaning his head back against the seat, he mentally kicked himself for some of the things he’d said to her.

She had every right to hate him at the moment.

Composing his apology as he dialed, he hoped she’d at least talk to him. Crystal had rejoined Meredith at the table and they were giggling over the lame pick-up line the guy at the bar had used on Crystal. “And then he just smirked – like that’s all he had to do and I’d be his!” she squealed, dissolving with laughter. Meredith laughed and started to make another joke when she saw Amanda’s phone light up.

She looked up, trying to find Amanda in the crowd and couldn’t spot her.

“Should I answer?” she asked, looking at Crystal. The other girl leaned over the table.

“Who is it?” Meredith picked up the phone.

“Says it’s ‘Clay cell’.

I think that’s her boyfriend’s name.” “Haven’t they been fighting?” “She hasn’t said, but I think so.” “Answer it.

At least tell him she’ll call him back.” Meredith looked dubious, but she answered.

“Hello?” Clay was taken aback by the unfamiliar voice.

“Um, I think I have the wrong number.” “I’m sorry.

This is Meredith.

Amanda’s not here, and I’m answering her phone.

I assume this is her boyfriend?” A little uncomfortable with the fact that he might be ousting his identity to a perfect stranger, he answered, “Yes.

Can I speak to her, please?” Meredith looked over at Crystal, not covering the phone.

“Can you see her?

Look for Jeremy’s head.

He should be taller than everyone else.” Clay felt his stomach drop at the knowledge that she was with Jeremy and that her so-called friends didn’t care that they had just told her boyfriend about it.

Meredith spoke to him again.

“I don’t see her.

The song is about over, do you want to wait?” Before he thought, he asked, “They’re dancing?” “What?

I’m sorry – it’s really loud in here and it just got louder.” “Nevermind,” he muttered.

Looking at his watch, he noted that it was after eleven in L.A.

And she was out – at a club, evidently – dancing with the guy she supposedly had no feelings for.

And she knew how sensitive he was about Jeremy.

Did she not think he was going to call and so she’d gone out with the guy?

Was she using their argument to get some quality time with the new man in her life?

Just as his thoughts threatened to overtake him, he realized that Meredith was talking again. “I’ll tell her you called!” she yelled and then the phone went silent as she hung up.

He stared at the phone in his hand for a long time, his mind and his heart in chaos.

His heart wanted to believe that nothing was going on and he was overreacting.

But his mind kept pointing out all the seemingly obvious signs that she was involved with Jeremy.

Feeling sick to his stomach, he walked to his bunk and climbed in, lying on his back and pulling the drapes shut so Kelly wouldn’t bother him.

When he swallowed over the lump in his throat for the third time, he coughed to try to cover his sniffling noises.

When a loose tear rolled into his ear after it slid over his cheek, he moved onto his side and tried to tell himself that he was overreacting.

She loved him. Or at least he thought she did. Amanda reached for Jeremy’s arm, looking at his watch after she pushed the button on the side to activate the light.

It was too dark to see hers while they waited outside for the others.

“I’m going to kill Meredith!

How long is she going to talk to that guy?

It’s almost two in the morning!” Jeremy had convinced her to dance to several songs until she finally did step on his feet on purpose to make him stop.

She had exaggerated how badly she danced, and Jeremy was actually a better dancer than Clay, but it hadn't felt right.

He held her hand differently, his hand felt heavier on her back, he smelled different, he felt different;

He wasn't Clay. When she’d gotten back to their table, Meredith had vanished and was latched onto the side of a guy in one of her other classes – where she still was almost three hours later.

Crystal had disappeared long ago, complaining of a headache.

They were waiting on Meredith and Bryan – both of whom seemed to believe they had found the loves of their lives inside the restaurant. She rubbed her arms briskly.

The temperature had dropped when the sun had set and she hadn’t thought to bring a jacket.

Jeremy noticed and glanced at her shirt quickly, smiling to himself as he saw the evidence of how cold she was.

Raising his eyes to her face before she noticed, he nodded to his car.

“I can take you home if you want.

I have to come back for Bryan since he’s been drinking.

I’ll give Meredith a ride home since you two came together.” She looked up at him and smiled.

“I’d appreciate it.

This is why I don’t come out with y’all a lot – I’m a party pooper.” He laughed.

“No you’re not. They just don’t know when to go home.

They forget things like morning classes.” She groaned.

“I forgot you had a nine o’clock!

Why aren’t you ready to kill them?” He shook his head.

“Too nice, I guess.” He winked at her.

“If it weren’t for Bryan, I’d leave their sorry butts here.

But I don’t want him to drive.” She smiled and he congratulated himself.

He was well on his way to being perfect in her eyes.

“Let me go tell them I’m taking you home.

Be right back!” He tossed her his car keys and watched her walk toward the car, reminding himself to give it time. Once inside, he found Bryan and told him to stay put until he got back.

Interrupting Meredith briefly, he said, “I’m gonna take Amanda home – she’s tired.

I’ll be back for you in a few minutes.” She nodded, smiling.

“Sounds good to me.” He started to walk away and she slid off the barstool and grabbed his arm.

“Wait! I wasn’t there when you two came back from dancing.

Her boyfriend called – be sure to tell her.” He smiled.

“Sure thing.” He immediately pushed that thought aside as he climbed into the car next to her and drove her home.

He snuck glances at the way the soft light of the dash and the occasional streetlight cast shadows on her face as they drove.

She was a little quiet and he assumed she was tired.

And probably wondering why her boyfriend hadn’t called.

He insisted on walking her inside and making sure her apartment was safe, eliciting another smile from her.

She walked him to the door and he looked down at her solemnly as he propped his hand on the doorframe.

He was fighting to keep his eyes on her face and not on the opening of her shirt.

He knew he needed to reassure her that he was her friend and only concerned with her happiness.

She was clearly trying to get him to leave, but he pretended to miss her signals. “So,” he started, “you don’t seem as upbeat as you were a while ago.

The fun wear off?” “Just tired.” She looked away. “And a little disappointed?” She met his gaze suddenly.

“What?” He smiled slightly.

“Boyfriend problems?” She shrugged.

“Some. How’d you know?” He softened his voice.

“You obviously love the guy.

I figure he’s the most likely candidate for making you sad.

Did you have a fight?” She nodded, uncomfortable discussing it with him.

As much as she enjoyed his company, she didn’t know him all that well.

And since he was the main reason for their fight, she didn’t want to elaborate.

“I just thought he’d call me.” He touched her shoulder.

“Maybe he feels guilty for whatever he said or did?

He’s probably too ashamed to call.” “Maybe,” she said, considering that.

He should feel guilty.

Looking back up at Jeremy, all she wanted to do was get him out of her apartment and call Clay.

She knew she was right in thinking that he should apologize, but she felt guilty for going out and being with Jeremy even though it hadn’t been intentional.

She wasn’t making the situation any better.

“Thanks for bringing me home,” she said, smiling.

“I’ll talk to you later.” He nodded.

“I owe you a lunch.” She laughed.

“I’ll remember that.

Night!” He watched her close the door and walked to his car, his hands in his pockets as he whistled to himself.

Chapter 7 Amanda’s alarm went off promptly at eight a.m.

It had only been four hours since she had fallen into a fitful sleep, realizing she couldn’t call Clay in the middle of the night.

He was usually up by eleven, so she had set her alarm so she could call him first thing in the morning.

Sitting up in the bed, she grabbed her phone and dialed, not caring if he should have called her first. “Hello?” he said sleepily. She pulled her knees to her chest, suddenly shy.

“Hi, there. Did I wake you?” Clay rubbed his eyes, disoriented for a moment.

He’d crashed at the hotel only a few hours before, and he wasn’t sure what time it was or why he had a heavy feeling in his chest at the sound of Amanda’s voice.

With a start, his memory returned and he had an image of her dancing with Jeremy, the other guy’s hands moving over her back and her head cradled against his chest.

He was short with her.

“Yes, you did.” Amanda could feel the stiffness of his tone over the phone and closed her eyes, sighing.

“You’re still mad?” “Yes.” She flopped back on the bed, telling herself to calm down.

“Clay – there’s nothing going on!” “You know, you say that, but I’m not so sure.” She sat up, trying to explain.

“But there’s not!

I know that I spend a lot of time with him – I spend a lot of time with all of them.

But he’s not interested in me that way.

Just last night, he was telling me how obvious it was that I love you.

He was trying to make me feel better.” He was shocked that she admitted she was with Jeremy.

“You were with him last night?” She sighed.

“Yes. I didn’t know he was going to be there.” Clay rolled his eyes.

“But I went out to this club, restaurant place with the others and he showed up.

They were just trying to cheer me up.

I was upset yesterday – because of our fight.” “Since when do you go to clubs?” “It’s not really a club.

I mean, there is music.

And people dance.

But it’s basically just a hang out close to campus.

I sat in the booth most of the night, watching everyone else.” He waited for her to admit what she’d been doing the rest of the night.

He heard her hesitate.

“But, I did dance with Jeremy some.

He asked and promised he’d buy me lunch if I stepped on his toes.” She laughed softly.

“And I did, so he has to.” “Let me get this straight,” Clay said angrily.

“First he gets to rub up against you as he’s dancing with you.

And if that doesn’t work, he gets to go out on a date with you?

Nice situation for ol’ Jeremy.” “It’s not like that, Clay!

He didn’t ‘rub up against’ me and it’s not a date.

He’ll probably buy me a sandwich in the cafeteria at school.” She knew he didn’t believe her.

“Look, I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not—” “Oh, you know what I’m thinking?

You know that I’m thinking I should give Jeremy a call and tell him how you like it.” “How I like what?” she asked, confused. He laughed dryly.

“I think you know what I mean.” Amanda held out the phone, disgusted.

Holding it to her face again, her fingers tightened on it.

“That was vulgar.

And uncalled for.” She heard him moving around and could practically see him pacing angrily. “Okay, Amanda.

If there’s nothing going on and if this guy is so honorable and you love me so much, why are you risking our relationship for him?

Why not just stay away from him?

Is he really worth this?” “Because I don’t think it’s him that is the problem.

Let’s say I cut ties with him.

There are roughly ten million people in this city – close to five million of them are men.

Unless I lock myself in my apartment at all times or switch to an all-girls school, I’m going to meet guys.

And – God forbid – I might be friends with a few of them.

Nearly all your friends are women, Clay!” “But they’re not trying to get in my pants!” he yelled. “Neither is he!” She had walked into the kitchen and shut the refrigerator door angrily.

“I just told you how he was trying to cheer me up about you last night!

And about how he said that he knows I love you.

He knows that there’s no chance of anything happening between us – even if I were attracted to him, and I’m not!” “So I’m being unreasonable?

You think I’m telling you that you can’t be friends with guys?

Just this guy, Amanda.

I do not trust him at all.

And I think you’re either choosing not to see it because you like the attention or you’re okay with it because you feel the same way about him.” She smacked the kitchen counter in frustration.

“I do not want the attention, and there isn't any attention, anyway!

I certainly don’t feel that way about him!” “Pick.” “What?” “Him or me.” “Clay, that’s ridiculous!

It’s not a competition!

I love you! He’s just my friend!” she yelled, shocked. “Pick!” “You’re being irrational,” she said, trying to calm down. “Amanda, if you can’t forgo a friendship with one guy when I have this much of a problem with it, something is fishy.

There’s a reason you don’t want to let go of him.” He had stopped moving and his stillness was equally eerie over the phone. “I don’t have him to let go of!!

It’s not fair for you to say who I can and can’t be friends with.

What happens when there is some other guy that you have a ‘problem’ with?

Do all my friends either have to have a uterus or your stamp of approval?” She sat down hard on the couch, more irritated with him than she had ever been.

He was silent and she waited for him to speak.

When he didn’t, she tried to soften her voice and reassure him.

“If I seriously thought there was a problem with Jeremy – if I thought he was making advances toward me – I would stop talking to him.

I think you’re threatened because he’s the first guy I’ve been friends with besides you since you’ve known me.

There’s nothing there, Sweetheart.

I promise.” Clay was staring out of his hotel window, vacillating between the urge to throw up, break something, or to tell everyone to forget the tour and catch the next plane home.

Since he couldn’t do any of the three, he stayed silent, listening to her breathe.

He could practically see her.

She was probably sitting on the couch, her knees pulled to her chest, waiting for him to speak and biting her lip nervously.

She had told him about the night before.

If she had something to hide, why wouldn’t she lie?

If she were really interested in the guy, she wouldn’t go out dancing with him and then tell Clay about it.

He had danced with his friends before and it meant nothing.

Why did this have to be different?

Even if he didn’t trust Jeremy, couldn’t he trust Amanda?

If she was blind to what the sleaze wanted, that didn’t necessarily mean he would get her.

Sighing loudly, he finally spoke.

“I don’t like him, Amanda.

Not at all. And I think he’s playing you.” “Let’s say he is – and I don’t believe he is.

Does that mean he gets me?” She’d read his mind.

“No.” “Trust me, Clay.

I love you so much.

And I hate fighting with you.

I really hate fighting with you.

Instead of arguing over this, we should be talking about your tour and telling each other what we’re dying to do to one another the next time we’re alone,” she said, laughing. He smiled for the first time in a while, picturing her mischievous grin as she spoke.

“God, I miss you.

This is worse than I thought.

And I’m afraid to even get started on what I’d like to do to you.

My phone might melt.” She chuckled, her voice low, and he felt a bit of the heaviness leave his chest.

“How was Atlanta last night?” “Went well.

They’re really going crazy over ‘Doves.’” “I wonder why!” she exclaimed. He laughed.

“It’s not that bad.” “Well, no, it’s not that bad.

But it’s enough of a suggestion of bad that it bothers me that all these women are going to imagine themselves being Angela.” “Including you?” he asked, teasing. She laughed dryly.

“Why on earth would I want to be Angela?

If they were smart, they wouldn’t wish to be with you during the song but wish to be with you after the song.

It seems to get you in the mood.” He cackled.

“Only when you’re there.

Otherwise, I just think about what I’m going to have for dinner or something.

Or Angela tells a joke in my ear to try to make me laugh.” “Really?

Thank her for me.

I don’t want you even remotely in the mood and then confronted with a bunch of screaming women who would be more than willing to ‘help’ you out.” “I love you,” he said, laughing. She smiled.

“I’m glad to hear it.

I love you, too. Are we okay?” “We’re okay,” he said, sighing.

“But you better hope he and I are never in the same room.” He paused.

“And just try to keep your eyes open, okay?

I have a gut feeling about him.

Just remember that I love you and what we have.” She smiled softly.

“I don’t ever not remember that, Clay.” He felt his chest ache – the good kind for a change.

“Good. Now, since you’ve woken me, I probably need to start doing the dozen things I have to do before Ned comes knocking on my door with his stupid clipboard.” She laughed and he grinned at the phone.

“I’ll talk to you later, Darlin’.

I love you.” “I love you, too,” she said, hanging up.

She looked at the phone for a few minutes, letting their conversation digest.

It was a shame, really, that he disliked Jeremy so much.

The first time she had met Jeremy, she had thought Clay and he would hit it off.

Feeling more at ease than she had in a while, she stretched and walked back to her room, snuggling under the covers and drifting back to sleep.

Chapter 8 Amanda was leaning over to get her notebook out of her bag when Janice braced her hands on the desk and startled her. “Pack up your stuff,” Janice said, smiling. Amanda looked up sharply.

“What?” “Look out the window,” she said, tilting her head and picking up Amanda’s notebook, putting it back in the latter’s bag.

“It’s a gorgeous day.

The weatherman says no chance of rain and sunny eighty-two.

Days like this don’t come very often in spring.” “And your point is?” “We’re playing hooky,” she said, winking. Amanda shook her head.

“No. I’ve missed enough lately.

I can’t afford to miss any more.” Janice was already shaking her head.

“I don’t want to hear it.

Half of campus is taking a vacation day – including several professors.

If you stay, you’ll be the only one in class.” “If you’re playing hooky, why are you even here trying to be a bad influence on me?” she asked, but she smiled. The other woman laughed.

“Because I knew you’d put up a fight.” She zipped Amanda’s bag and held it up.

“Come on. You know you want to.” Amanda reached for her bag just as Janice pulled it out of her reach.

“No, I don’t want to.” “You can go home, take a little nap.

No one should be up at eight o’clock on a day like today.

Then we’re going to hop in my little Jeep and cruise on over to the beach and be absolutely lazy.

I’ll supply the trashy novels, and you bring the sunscreen.

Come on!” Amanda laughed.

“Where is everyone else?” “Mason has decided to become studious and is locking himself in the chemistry lab since his classes were cancelled.

Crystal is probably already at the beach, no doubt eyeing a lifeguard,” she said, laughing.

“Bryan and Jeremy are MIA and Meredith is sleeping in.

She said she’d join us later.” “If I’m not going to class, I really should work on some other things,” Amanda said, thinking about the half a dozen messages Kristy had left her in the past few days.

She’d agreed to help the foundation with a charity event and her incessant need to control things meant she was in a bit over her head.

A day off from school would give her time to catch up on all the phone calls she needed to make. “Nope.

Sunny and eighty-two equals no work,” Janice said, sauntering out of the room with Amanda’s bag. She scrambled out of her chair and followed Janice out of the building, arguing with her friend.

“I really do need to work, Janice.” She watched the other woman slip on her sunglasses, ignoring her.

“Janice!” “No!” Amanda said, trying to cover herself. “It looks fine!” Meredith said, putting her hands on her hips.

“Girl, if I looked like that in a bikini, I sure wouldn’t be covering anything up.” She reached over and smacked Amanda’s hands away.

Janice and she were standing in Amanda’s bedroom, already in their suits and ready to go. “Seriously,” Janice agreed.

“I’m thinking I don’t want you to go, actually.

No one is going to flirt with me now.” “You have a boyfriend!” Amanda said, laughing.

“You shouldn’t be worrying about guys flirting with you.” “I’m not dead,” she said dryly. Amanda smiled and inspected her reflection in the mirror warily.

“It’s not too tight?” Janice untied her sarong.

“Mine is tighter.

For a two-piece, it’s pretty conservative, Amanda.” She turned and tried to look at her butt in the mirror.

“Yeah, but few people usually see this much of me.” Failing, she turned back to face the mirror.

“Only one person, in fact,” she muttered under her breath.

Meredith laughed and Janice whistled, making her blush.

“Fine,” she said, sighing.

“Give me that sarong and let’s go before I change my mind again.” Once she had realized that Janice was not going to let her stay in class – whether she went to the beach or not – they still had to promise her they wouldn’t be out late before she would agree to go.

And she brought some of the paperwork she had to read with her – if for no other reason than to make her feel like she wasn’t completely shirking her responsibilities. As they left her apartment, her neighbor waved her over frantically.

Smiling, she said, “Something wrong, Ms.

Spillman?” “Are you going to be gone all day, Dear?” Ms.

Spillman had just celebrated her sixty-seventh birthday weeks before and seemed to think Amanda was the granddaughter she’d never had. “Not all day.

We’re going to the beach since it’s such a pretty day.” She glanced at the others for confirmation.

“We should be home by early afternoon.” She was wringing her hands, as she had a habit of doing.

“I told Robert not to get me that infernal computer – I’d never use it!

But the kids like to keep in touch and I think I’ve broken all my electronic mail,” she said, her brow furrowed.

Amanda remembered that Robert was Ms.

Spillman’s son who lived in Arizona.

Her daughter, Kimberly, lived in Boston, and her other son, Matt, lived in Oregon.

She constantly worried about the computer they had bought her for Christmas – convinced that it was ultimately going to explode and burn down her apartment if she pressed the wrong key. “I’m sure you didn’t break it,” Amanda reassured her.

Ms. Spillman averaged two or three computer catastrophes a week, usually requiring Amanda to go next door and coax her through restarting. “Can you come look at it later?” “I sure will.

If I forget, you give me a call, okay?” Ms.

Spillman nodded and continued wringing her hands as she went back inside and Amanda left with Meredith and Janice. A few hours later, she smiled up at Meredith as the latter handed her one of the bright pink concoctions a vender down the beach was selling.

“And this one is from the guy over there on the blue towel – the one with the red trunks.

He bought us all one.

He was just going to buy one for me and I batted my eyelashes.

Enjoy.” Meredith winked and waved at their drink benefactor.

“Not exactly my type and you both have boyfriends, but he doesn’t have to know that.” Amanda took a sip of her drink and laughed.

“Poor guy.” Janice rolled her eyes.

“Poor guy, my butt!

He’s hitting on three strange women on the beach, thinking the fact that he bought us Kool-Aid means we’ll overlook the fact that his hairline is receding and he only dreams of being twenty-five.” Amanda smacked the other woman’s arm.

“He’ll hear you!” Laughing, she leaned back in her beach chair.

“I think the heat is getting to you.

You’re getting punchy.” Janice lowered her sunglasses.

“Just stating the facts, Ma’am.” She looked past Amanda’s shoulder.

“Looks like we’ve got company.

Mr. Studious got tired of the structured life,” she said, standing and waving Mason over. Amanda leaned forward to look and smiled at Mason, her heart sinking when she saw that he had brought two friends with him – Jeremy and Bryan.

Clay and she had managed to have a completely Jeremy-free conversation the night before and she already dreaded the fallout if he learned that she had spent part of the day with the guy. “Hello, ladies!” Mason called, bending over to kiss Janice quickly.

“You’re all looking rather toasty.

Is that Amanda’s stomach I see?” He pretended to fall over in shock, leaning on Jeremy’s arm.

Amanda threw an empty water bottle at him, laughing.

Everyone else laughed at them – everyone except Jeremy.

He’d been in the middle of writing a paper when Bryan had called and suggested the beach.

He’d been about to decline when his friend mentioned that the girls were already there.

Staring at his computer screen or staring at a scantily clad Amanda was an easy decision.

He’d been there less than five minutes and he already knew he’d made the right choice.

Watching her scramble up and run from Mason as he continued to tease her, he made another decision.

He was going to have to start changing his tactics a bit to get her more used to the idea of him as a lover rather than just a friend.

Spreading out his beach towel, he watched her as she slipped under the water in the ocean.

Janice, Mason, and she were all out there and were laughing at something.

He propped himself up on his elbows and slipped on his sunglasses so it wouldn’t be as obvious that he was staring at her.

His gaze dropped to her hips as she sauntered back to their spot a few minutes later.

He was again glad for the sunglasses, watching her unconsciously sexy walk.

She was wringing her hair out as she sat down. “Hi, there,” she said, smiling at him.

Despite her nervousness at Clay’s reaction, Amanda still considered Jeremy her friend and wasn’t going to treat him any differently just because her boyfriend was paranoid. “Hey.

Water feel good?” She sighed happily.

“Yeah. I didn’t realize how much I needed a break.

I don't get to come to the beach very often.

Cl—my boyfriend doesn’t like the water,” she corrected hastily. “He lives in California and doesn’t like the water?” he asked, adding another reason to his list of why Amanda would be better off with him.

Clay was missing out by not taking her to the beach.

He wanted her most of the time, but when she was covered in two small swatches of color and soaking wet, it was almost unbearable. “He’s not from California,” she said before she thought, hoping Jeremy didn’t question her. He didn’t.

He already knew. “No excuse.

In the future, anytime you want to go to the beach, you give me a call.” She had no intention of doing so, but he didn't have to know that.

“I’ll remember that.” He watched her smooth sunscreen over her arms, wondering if she would ask him to help and praying that she would.

“Were your classes cancelled, too?

Or are you just skipping like everyone else?” “Two of them were cancelled.

I’m skipping one.” She nodded.

“Me, too.” He sucked in a breath when she moved her hand to her stomach, hoping she didn’t notice.

If she did, she didn’t react.

He saw her glance quickly for Meredith or Janice when only her back was left, amused that she didn’t want him to do it.

He mentally thanked them for being away when she met his gaze and raised her eyebrows.

“Can you help?” “Sure thing.” He took the bottle from her and she turned around, pulling her hair over her shoulder.

He paused with his hand just above her skin, remembering she wasn’t supposed to know he wanted her.

“Your boyfriend won’t get mad, will he?” Amanda bit her tongue to keep from saying that yes, he would get very mad.

“I don’t plan on telling him,” she said honestly.

“I doubt it will come up in conversation.” Since she had no intention of telling him that Jeremy had even been with her today, she didn’t think the question of whether he rubbed sunscreen on her back would be an issue.

She felt more than one pang of guilt for lying to him – by omission, anyway.

But, he would just freak out over nothing and they’d have anther fight and she simply wasn’t up to it. “Did he ever call?” he asked casually. “I called him.

We worked it out,” she said, smiling as he finished and she turned back around.

“Thanks.” “No problem,” Jeremy replied, handing her the bottle.

His fingers were still tingling from the sensation of slowly rubbing her back.

He congratulated himself on his restraint – he hadn’t even attempted to loosen the strings on the back of her suit or skim his finger under her waistband.

He had probably lingered a bit too long on her lower back, but she hadn’t seemed to notice. Amanda slipped on her sunglasses and slid back down in her chair, smiling at him briefly before picking up her book.

She tried to ignore the nagging voice in her head that had started protesting when Jeremy seemed to take a little too much care with her lower back.

Surely he hadn’t used so much sunscreen that it would have taken that long to rub it in.

She glanced at him and saw that he was looking past her.

She turned and laughed, seeing the girl he was staring at.

If that’s what he wanted, he certainly wasn’t interested in her.

Clay’s paranoia was wearing off on her, she decided, going back to her book. Jeremy noticed the girl behind Amanda, mainly because he noticed Amanda was looking in his direction and he ought not to stare back at her.

The others wandered back and there was a flurry of motion as Mason moved his towel to lie beside Janice’s chair.

When they all quieted down, he returned his gaze to Amanda.

She wasn’t looking at him and the way he was laying, it wasn’t obvious that he was staring at her.

After devoting a considerable amount of time enjoying her above the waist, he lowered his gaze and felt his lips curl upward when she moved her leg slightly and he spotted a small freckle on her upper thigh.

He had plans for that freckle.

With that thought in mind, he turned to Bryan and put his “plans” on hold for the time being.

Chapter 9 Amanda tossed her bag into the back of Janice’s Jeep, watching her friend giggling with Mason.

Seeing the two of them whispering and smiling at each other made her miss Clay terribly all the sudden.

More than anything, she missed just being around him.

She missed the reassuring weight of his arm over her shoulder or the brush of his hair on her face when he leaned over to kiss her.

Sighing, she looked away as Mason slipped his arm around Janice’s waist and lowered his head.

They had been together for barely over a month and were still in the touchy-feely part of their relationship.

She laughed to herself when she realized Clay and she had been together almost five months and they weren’t all that different.

Five months . It seemed longer than that in her mind – she really couldn’t imagine her life before him.

Janice opened her car door, startling Amanda out of her reverie. “Ready?” she asked.

Her friend’s color was high and her eyes were bright.

Amanda was sure she was going to be dropped off quickly so Janice and Mason could be alone. “Yep,” she said, getting in the car.

She glanced at her friend as she fastened her seatbelt.

“Y’all are so cute.

Makes me miss Clay,” she said softly.

She’d opened up to Janice more than anyone about her relationship.

While she loved all the new people she had met, she felt the strongest bond with Janice and she knew she could trust the other woman not to tell everyone about her private life. Janice smiled.

“How long until you see him again?” She ran her thumbnail over the edge of the seatbelt.

“Not sure. I think I’m flying to Winston-Salem to see him.

That’s on a weekend and it’s a compromise since I can’t go to Raleigh on Monday.” Her friend nodded and patted her knee.

“I’d love to meet him sometime.” She smiled.

“Not because of who he is to everyone else, but because of who he is to you.” Amanda smiled.

“That’s sweet.” Janice laughed and started the car, looking behind her as she put it in reverse.

A shout made her put her foot on the break and then look to see Jeremy running over to them.

He put his hand on her door. “Hey!

You guys were about to get away,” he said, slightly winded from running over.

He glanced at Amanda.

“I wanted to ask you a favor.” She mentally sighed, but smiled.

“Whatcha need?” He laughed to himself – what a question.

“That paper I have for Robertson’s class.

I was working on it earlier today and it’s just not coming together how I’d like it.

Can I bring it over and let you look at it?” She opened her mouth to say she had to work and he held up a finger.

“I know you’re busy – I won’t stay long.

And I’ll stop and pick up a pizza on the way over to make up for being a pest.

I know you haven’t eaten all afternoon.

How’s that sound?” She glanced at Janice.

The other woman knew about the recent arguments between Clay and herself.

Janice shrugged, not sure what Amanda should do.

“Okay, but not for long,” she said with some hesitation.

“I really do have to work.

Be sure to bring whatever research you have.” He grinned.

“Sure thing. I’ll run home and get my stuff and be over with dinner in a few minutes.” She nodded as she watched him jog away to get his things.

She looked at Janice.

“Yet another thing I can’t tell Clay – having Jeremy over for dinner.” Her friend smiled sympathetically.

“You think he’ll ever realize nothing is going on – on either side?” She shook her head.

“I doubt it. You have no idea how sensitive he is about Jeremy.” “I’m sorry, Amanda.

And I know you feel bad for not telling him when Jeremy is around.” She picked at a hangnail, feeling guilty.

“Yeah. And even then, the group stuff isn’t that bad.

But if he knew that we were alone together – he’d drive himself insane worrying.” “Maybe when his tour is over and he’s home and can see for himself that everything is fine, he’ll calm down?” Amanda slipped on her sunglasses as Janice put the car in drive.

“I hope so.” Jeremy handed Amanda another piece of pizza, watching the way she licked sauce off her finger.

“How about that next paragraph?

It doesn’t seem to flow well to me,” he said, pointing to the computer screen.

She read it quickly, chewing quietly.

He watched her tilt her head to the side while she thought, admiring the smooth skin of her neck that was exposed by her tank top.

She’d already showered and dressed by the time he arrived, and rather than fuss with her hair, she had pulled it up into a high ponytail.

His fingers itched to touch the back of her neck where a few stray curls were tempting him, but he controlled himself.

She finished her pizza and wiped her hands on the napkin he handed her before she answered. “Your problem is that you’re assuming your reader has read these texts.

I have, but don’t assume that everyone has.

There’s a gap between your statement that the dialogue is stilted and the way you simply cite a passage with no contextual clues.” “But if I explain the plot, isn’t that a digression?” She shook her head.

“Not if it allows the reader to make a judgment about your claim.

Of course they’re going to agree that the dialogue is awkward if they don’t know that these two characters are trying to hide the fact that they’re having an affair while they’re in front of his wife.” She stood to take their plates into the kitchen.

“It’s not a fair argument if the reader doesn’t have all the information.” He leaned back in his chair under the guise of stretching to watch her walk.

“That means more work for me,” he complained. She laughed and smacked his shoulder as she sat back down.

“Yes, it does. But you asked for my advice.” “This is true.” He looked back at the screen.

“Anything else?” She shook her head.

“It’s not as bad as you made it out to be.

It can certainly be better, though.

I know you’re capable of better.” “Thanks.” He smiled, wanting to kiss her.

“So, did you have fun today?” She nodded, curling her legs beneath her as she moved to the couch.

“It was nice to get out for a while and just relax.

But I do need to get some work done.” She looked at her watch.

“It’s almost four now.” She was hinting for him to leave, but he seemed to ignore her, turning back to the computer screen. “You mind if I work on this part and then let you read it?” he asked. “That’s fine.

I’ll clean up our dishes and work on some other things while you do that.” She went into the kitchen and was startled by the phone.

“Hello? Oh, Ms. Spillman!

Yes, I had forgotten.

Can you give me about five minutes?” She smiled.

“No, you don’t have to unplug it.

I’ll be right over.” She hung up, laughing.

“That’s my neighbor – she’s terrified of her computer.

Will you be okay while I run over to see what she’s done now?” He nodded.

“I’ll be fine.” He waited until she was out the door before he stood, intending to see if she had a picture of Clay in her bedroom so he could be sure that his suspicions were correct.

Wandering into her room, he spotted a picture frame on the nightstand and smiled to himself.

Upstaging a guy like that wouldn’t be very hard. “It’s not too clingy?” Clay asked, pulling on his green shirt and watching it snap back against his abdomen.

“It feels too clingy.” It was a while before he was supposed to go on stage in Tampa, but he was trying on the shirt John had told him to wear. “It’s fine ,” John said, rolling his eyes.

“You’ll have a t-shirt and that yellow shirt,” he said, pointing to it.

“ And a jacket. I think you’ll be plenty well covered.” Clay shrugged.

“Whatever you say.” He looked at his watch.

“Amanda should be out of class by now – I think I’ll call her.” He glanced at his friend.

“Can you give me a minute?” John laughed and turned to go.

“By all means. Wouldn’t want these innocent ears to hear anything risqué.” Clay changed out of his concert clothes and pulled on a pair of pajamas and a t-shirt Amanda had given him.

Running his hand over his stomach idly, he sat down to call her. Jeremy looked up when he heard the apartment phone ring.

He walked into the living room to see if Amanda had come back yet and saw that she hadn’t.

His first instinct was to just let her machine pick up, but curiosity made him glance at her caller ID.

When he saw the number, he remembered it from the time he had scrolled through her cell phone when she’d been out of the classroom.

Inspiration striking, he answered, trying to sound sleepy.

“H’lo?” Clay held the phone away from his ear, grimacing.

“Um, hello?” “Who’s this?” Jeremy asked, lowering his voice. “Who is this ?” Clay asked, irritated.

He knew it was Jeremy, but why had Amanda let him answer the phone? “Jeremy.

Hang on a second,” he said, making noise as if he were moving around.

He shut a door like he was leaving a room.

“Didn’t want to wake Amanda.

Who is this now?” Clay’s heart stopped.

“What? Wake Amanda?

Why is she asleep?

And why in the hell are you answering her phone?” “Oh, is this the boyfriend?” Jeremy asked, laughing. “Yes, this is ‘the boyfriend,’” Clay bit out.

“Answer my question.” “I was beside the phone and she just fell asleep.

Thought I’d let her rest.

You should have warned me she was a wild one.” He made a noise of satisfaction and waited for Clay’s response. Clay closed his eyes, his mind screaming that this was some nightmare he was about to wake from.

“Excuse me?” “I thought I could handle her, but once you get her going, she’s something else.

But I guess you know that, don’t you?” “Look, you—” Clay stopped himself, grinding his teeth.

“I know what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work.” “What I’m trying to do?

I already did it.

Did it really well, too, if her response was any indication.

Hey, Man, I guess I owe you a thank you.

I didn’t have to show her anything.

She showed me a thing or two, in fact.” He sucked on his teeth and whistled for good measure. Clay stood and then sat back down when the room spun.

“Just put Amanda on the phone, please.” He was on the verge of throwing up, and he was praying that this was some kind of twisted joke and Amanda would have an explanation.

Surely she didn’t know he was saying these things. “I told you, she’s asleep.” “I don’t care if she’s asleep,” Clay said, feeling himself start to lose it.

“Put her on the phone.

Let me talk to her.” He hated the slight note of begging in his voice, but that’s how he felt.

If he could just hear her voice, if she could just reassure him, he’d be fine. Jeremy walked down the hall so Clay would hear him, grinning as he got an idea.

“How many times a night is she usually good for?” Clay threw a cushion from the couch across the room.

“You bastard! You’re lying!” Trying to check his temper, Clay told himself to hang up.

He’d call her back later and she could explain everything.

“I’ll call her back later,” he managed, his voice tight. Jeremy knew he had to act fast.

He had to find a way to convince Clay she had been unfaithful.

He had to “prove” it somehow or the guy was going to hang up and Amanda would find out what he had done when she talked to her boyfriend later.

“You don’t believe me, huh?” Clay felt sick, all his doubts and fears over the past few weeks rushing back.

Yet there was still a glimmer of hope that Jeremy was just a sleaze and was making this up.

But where was Amanda?

Why would she let Jeremy say this to him if it weren’t true or if she didn’t want him to think it were true?

“No.” “That’s a shame.

We could really help each other out.

When you’re in town, I can take a break and then I’ll step in when you’re busy.” He ran his hand along the doorframe of her bedroom.

“I will give you one piece of advice.

If you really want to drive her wild, she loves it when you tickle that little freckle on her thigh with your tongue.

Believe me, you’ll want to remember that.” The phone slipped from Clay’s hand and he could hear Jeremy saying “hello” over and over before it finally went silent.

He wasn’t sure how long the phone lay on the floor before he numbly picked it up and flipped it shut.

He stared at it for an even longer moment while he sat very, very still.

If he sat still enough, if he were quiet enough, his brain wouldn’t register what had just happened.

As he sat there, however, white-hot anger surged through him as he lost the battle to block it out.

Without thinking, he reacted, yelling, “No!” and throwing the phone into the mirror across the room.

Hearing the crash, Jerome rushed inside.

Clay was standing in the middle of the room, his fists clenched at his side and his face contorted with a mixture of anger and betrayal.

Jerome saw the fragments of the mirror in a heap on the floor and looked up in time to see Clay angrily reach for a vase of flowers someone had sent.

Still not knowing what had happened, he reached for the vase and took it from Clay before it, too, became a shattered mess on the floor.

As soon as Jerome took the vase, Clay yelled again and started to take a swing at his bodyguard and friend. “Clay!” Jerome yelled, grabbing his arm.

“What in the—what’s wrong with you?

What happened?” When he grabbed Clay’s arm, it pulled the younger man against his chest.

Clay’s eyes locked with Jerome’s and in that instant when it sunk in what Jerome had asked him, his surge of anger left him and he felt his stomach lurch violently.

His eyes widened just before he wrestled away from Jerome and rushed into the bathroom.

He wasn’t aware that the older man followed him until the Jerome crouched behind him and pressed a cold washcloth to his forehead.

He stopped heaving long enough to collapse against Jerome on the bathroom floor, tears streaming down his face. Jerome knew something had happened with Amanda – nothing else would affect Clay like this.

As he started talking, Jerome felt his stomach drop. “I didn’t really believe it.

I thought I was just paranoid.” He covered his face with his hands.

Jerome crouched in front of Clay and touched his shoulder.

The younger man looked up at him and Jerome suddenly felt ill himself.

The heartbroken look on Clay’s face caused an immediate and intense wave of anger toward Amanda for whatever had just happened – and he had a pretty good idea of what that was. Clay leaned his head against the bathroom wall, his eyes closed.

“He touched her, Jerome.

He made love to her.” He swallowed.

“I can’t get the image out of my head.

I can’t stop seeing it.

I can’t stop hearing it.” He shuddered violently, covering his face with his hands again and mumbling from behind them.

“Why? Why would she do this?

What happened? What did I do wrong?” Jerome was silent for a moment.

Clay had to go on stage in a little more than an hour.

There was no way they could explain it if he didn’t show up.

He had to go on with the show.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said, patting Clay’s shoulder.

He looked at his watch.

They didn’t have time for him to fall apart like this.

He shook the younger man’s shoulder to get his attention.

“Clay, listen to me.

I need you to focus for me.” Clay lifted his eyes to Jerome’s and Jerome tried to stay calm.

The other man needed calm at the moment.

“You have a show in about an hour.

One hour. You have to pull it together.

You can’t let all those people down.” Clay shook his head sadly.

“I can’t. I can’t do it.” He started to get up.

“I’m done. I want to go home.

I’m finished.” Jerome pushed him back down, forcing Clay to look at him.

“No, you’re not going home.

You can do this, Clay.

I know you’re hurting terribly, but for right now, you have to put this behind you – just for a little over an hour.

Think of all the people counting on you.

Think about them, not her.” Clay protested again.

“How am I supposed to forget it?” His eyes glinted with a mixture of tears and anger.

“I’m supposed to pretend that she’s probably not with him right now?

That he’s not kissing her and touching her?” He pushed Jerome away to stand, bracing his hands on the sides of the sink.

“I’m supposed to forget about the fact that the woman I love just ripped my heart out?” He looked down at his fingers gripping the sink and then closed his eyes tightly.

“I’m supposed to go out there and sing and pretend I don’t feel like either killing him or killing myself?

I’m supposed to do that?” Jerome watched Clay struggle.

He played on the only thing he knew.

No matter what was going on in Clay’s personal life, he knew where his responsibilities lie. “Yes,” Jerome said simply.

“For a few hours, you have to forget.

Think of the thousands of people out there who paid a lot of money and drove a long way to see you.

Think of how it would make them feel if you didn’t show up or if you put forth a halfhearted effort.

Think of how it would make you feel to know that you let them down.” He gripped Clay’s shoulders and turned him around.

“I’m angry, too. If I could get my hands on this Jeremy guy, I’d kill him.

If I could get my hands on Amanda, I’d shake her for doing this.

I don’t understand it, Clay, and we’re not going to figure it out in the next few hours.

Probably not in the next few days or the next few weeks.

I don’t know if we’ll ever figure it out.

But you know what you have to do right now.

You know what you have to do to get through the next few hours.

You have to go out there and sing and act like you’re having the time of your life.

Then we can deal with this.

Just get through the next few hours.

You can do this.” He met Clay’s eyes and leveled his gaze.

“You can do this,” he repeated slowly. Clay stared back at Jerome, trying to concentrate on the other man’s words.

He closed his eyes and swallowed.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to focus on what he could do.

He could get dressed.

He could make it through the set list.

He felt his stomach lurch at the thought of singing “Without You,” but he pushed past it.

He could sing it.

He could joke with the audience.

He could concentrate on the thousands of people who did love him instead of the one person who evidently didn’t.

Meeting Jerome’s eyes again, he nodded.

“I can do it.” Jerome released the breath he’d been holding and patted Clay’s shoulder.

“Just a few hours.” “Just a few hours,” Clay repeated softly.

He followed Jerome into the room and looked in shock at the broken mirror and the spilled vase Jerome had taken from him.

Had he really done that?

Remembering that he had taken a swing at Jerome, he looked at his friend.

“I’m so sorry I tried to hit you.

I wasn’t thinking.” Jerome turned and met his gaze, his expression sad.

“I wish I’d let you.”

Chapter 10 “What did he say – exactly?” Jerome asked, leaning forward. Clay stood and paced in front of the couch on the bus.

“I don’t want to repeat it.

But he made it clear that they were,” he paused and swallowed, “together.” He stopped in front of the refrigerator and opened it, not really looking for anything.

Shutting it again, he glanced at Jerome.

“Believe me – he all but gave me a play-by-play.” Jerome watched Clay’s face tighten again.

They had been on the bus for a while and he was trying to get the full story out of Clay.

Something about the situation bothered him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

Clay looked away from him, staring at nothing, and he fought a sigh.

There had been a few moments during the show that had scared him – made him afraid Clay was about to lose it.

He had made a point to make eye contact and nod reassuringly when he’d sensed those moments and the show had gone smoothly.

Other than being abnormally quiet, Clay didn’t appear that different to the others, he figured.

He’d come close to briefly telling them what had happened, but had decided against it, reasoning that Clay could and would share on his own time.

He had given Kelly a heads-up that maybe she should ride with the crew on the way to Miami instead of joining Clay on the bus, and she had agreed.

Clay flopped on the couch next to him suddenly, and Jerome watched him cover his face with his hands and groan. “It’s like a nightmare.

I keep waiting to wake up and my life to be normal again.” He dropped his hands and met Jerome’s eyes.

“I can’t believe this,” he said softly. Jerome stared at him for a moment.

“Have you considered the possibility that he was lying?

Trying to get to you?” Clay nodded.

“I did. Especially at first.

But then…” He closed his eyes and could hear Jeremy’s voice when he mentioned her freckle – and what he had done with her.

Shaking his head, he continued, “But then I knew he was telling the truth.” Jerome was silent, watching Clay’s face.

“Why don’t you call her?” “What?” He looked at Jerome sharply.

“I’m not calling her!

What if I called and interrupted them?” He shuddered and shook his head.

“No.” “All I’m saying is – wouldn’t you rather hear it from her?

So you could be sure?” Clay started to argue and Jerome raised a hand.

“You’re going to throw away the last five months of your life – and potentially the rest of your life, from what I saw – based on the word of this guy you don’t know and don’t trust?” Clay’s heart jumped at the flicker of hope Jerome was offering.

If Jeremy was lying, he was right about the guy being a sleaze, but Amanda still loved him;

She was still the girl he’d fallen in love with, and nothing had changed.

“You really think I should call her?” Jerome nodded.

“At least you’ll know.” He stood and placed a hand on his stomach, rubbing his sweatshirt slightly.

“Why do I feel like my stomach just dropped about a foot?

I don’t know if I can do this.

What’ll I do if she admits it?

What if he’s still there?” Jerome handed him the phone.

“Call.” Clay exhaled loudly and sat down, tucking his leg beneath him.

He took a deep breath as the phone rang and closed his eyes, praying that maybe his nightmare would be over. Amanda jumped when the phone rang, placing a hand over her heart.

She glanced at the clock and figured it had to be Clay – no one else would call that late.

Setting the paper aside she had been reading, she answered, smiling.

“Hey, Sweetheart – you’re up late.” Clay jerked involuntarily at the sound of her voice calling him “Sweetheart.” Did she really mean it?

He cleared his throat, trying to sound normal.

“Hi – I was just about to go to sleep.

We’re on our way to Miami.” Amanda thought he sounded a little down, but figured he was tired.

Tucking her leg beneath her, she asked, “How was the show tonight?” “Went pretty well.

I had a good time and the crowed seemed to enjoy it, also,” he lied.

Closing his eyes again, he asked, “What have you been up to today?” Amanda hesitated, not sure how he would react to her spending the day with Jeremy.

Mentally sighing, she said, “Not much.

Went to class and then I’ve been working on some stuff for the foundation.

I really got behind with the foundation stuff in the last couple weeks.

I had no idea so much went into organizing a benefit.” He heard her rifling through papers.

“I keep meaning to ask you – where is the hat you wore when you read The Cat in the Hat on Dr.

Seuss’s birthday – the red and white one?

Kristy mentioned that you said you wanted to auction it off.” Clay tried to concentrate on her question.

“Um, it’s at the house somewhere.

Check my closet upstairs.

If it isn’t there, then I’ve already taken it to the office.

You can mail it to her anytime.

You just worked all day?” “Yep – trying to stay busy,” she said, making a note to look for his hat.

“It was gorgeous here today, though – really warm and sunny.” “You didn’t go out or anything?” She caught something in his voice.

“No – why? Is something wrong?” He glanced at Jerome, and the other man mouthed “ ask her .” He shook his head and mouthed “ I can’t .” Jerome nodded, pointing to the phone.

“No, nothing’s wrong.

Look, Amanda, I just had a weird feeling.” “About?” He paused and swallowed.

“Jeremy.” Amanda groaned.

“Not that again. Clay, you have got to let go of this.

It’s making you crazy.” “I know,” he said, pulling on a loose string on his pants.

“I just wondered if you had seen him today.” Amanda resisted the urge to cross her fingers behind her back.

“No, I haven’t seen him all day.” She felt horrible for lying to him, but if he were already this paranoid, he’d lose it if he knew Jeremy had been with her and been at her apartment. Clay covered his face with his free hand, his chest tightening.

Why would she lie if she didn’t have something to hide?

“You know how much he bothers me, right?

You know how uncomfortable he makes me?” He was mentally begging for her to just admit what she had done. “Yes,” she said softly.

“I wish I could make you realize that you’re worrying over nothing.

I hate to see you so upset.

He’s really very nice, Clay.

I think you’d like him if you got to know him.

He’s funny like you are – he makes me laugh like you do.” He stiffened.

She was defending him?

“We’re a lot alike, huh?” he asked sarcastically. “Some, yes.” She laughed quietly, trying to lighten the mood.

“It’s actually hard to be around him sometimes because he reminds me of you.” Even in bed?

Clay wondered. The sinking feeling he’d gotten when she had lied about seeing Jeremy turned to anger.

What had he ever done to her that would make her do this to him?

“What reminds you of me, exactly?” The fact that she was comparing the two of them ate at him like acid.

Had she been thinking of Jeremy the last time she’d been with him?

Did she think about the differences in the way he touched her?

Which one was better?

He suddenly wondered when she had first slept with Jeremy – was it while he was still in L.A.

Or had they waited until he left?

If it had been in L.A., that meant that when they were together in Charlotte, Jeremy would have already made love to her.

Clay tortured himself with the question – wanting to know, but knowing that he couldn’t take it if the answer were “yes.” If he knew that he had made love to her, that she had lain in his arms and touched him and that he had been inside her after she had been with Jeremy, he thought he might completely lose it.

The thought alone made his insides churn. Amanda was a little uncomfortable with the question but pushed her feelings aside.

“Well, he teases me kind of like you do.

And he’s protective like you are – won’t let me go inside alone if he drops me off late.” She wanted to change the subject, suddenly very aware that it sounded like she was with him more than she really was. After a little romp at his place?

Clay wanted to ask.

“I’m so happy that he can take my place when I’m gone,” Clay said angrily. “I didn’t say he took your place, Clay,” she said, trying to stay calm.

“No one could ever take your place,” she said, smiling. Clay started to say something nasty and stopped himself.

“That’s good to know,” he bit out, gritting his teeth.

“So, when’s the last time you saw him?” “Why do you want to know?” He laughed dryly.

“Just curious.” “Um – a couple days ago – the night we went to Max’s, actually.” Clay raked a hand through his hair – she wasn’t even a very good liar.

She’d have seen him in class even if she hadn’t seen him on top of her only hours before.

Or under her , he reminded himself.

“Oh, yes, the dancing.

No more dancing with ol’ Jeremy?” “No.” Amanda had a heavy feeling in her chest – it wasn’t getting any better.

She was going to have to tell Jeremy that she couldn’t see him at all, as much as it bothered her to give in to Clay’s paranoid jealousy.

“Clay, I think maybe you need to go to sleep – you’re getting a little mean, actually.

There’s nothing going on with Jeremy and the more you talk about it, the angrier you get.” “And the more you lie about it, the more convinced I am that something is going on!” he yelled, startled when Jerome took the phone from him. “Amanda?

Clay will talk to you later,” Jerome said as he took the phone. “Is he okay?” she asked, worried. He attempted to remain civil.

“Not really, but he’ll be fine.

Don’t you worry,” he said a little sarcastically.

“Goodnight now.” “Tell him goodnight for me.

And that I love him.” He had no intention of doing so.

Hanging up, he looked at Clay.

“Screaming at her over the phone won’t change anything.” Clay put his hands on his hips.

“No, but flying out there and reminding her of what she’s giving up might.” He balled his fists.

“God, I hate myself – I still want her!

I know what she did and I still want her!” He started to pace again.

“What I really want is to punch Jeremy in the face.

I remind her of him ?” he asked, poking his chest.

“I guess in the dark, it’s hard to tell the difference.” “Clay, go to bed,” Jerome said slowly.

“I understand that you’re angry and hurt, but I’m not going to listen to that.” “Fine!

Don’t listen! I don’t care!” he yelled.

He poked his chest again.

“You’re not the one who was just cheated on!

And lied to! You’re not the one who just had to listen to your fiancé tell you that the scum who just made love to her reminds her of you !

You didn’t have to hear that, Jerome!

Maybe I do need to go to bed, but I sure as hell don’t feel like it!” Jerome put his hands on Clay’s arms, reeling from the shock that Clay had evidently proposed to Amanda at some point without his knowledge.

“Clay, calm down.” “I don’t want to calm down!

I want to hit something.

I want to hit him – hard.

I want to hurt her as badly as she’s hurt me.” He paused and grabbed Jerome’s shirt.

“Tomorrow night – find some girl after the show.

Two can play this game.

I don’t care who she is.” “Clay!” Jerome said, his temper flaring.

“I said calm down and I meant it!

You’re out of your mind!

I will not find you some girl and you know that’s not what you want.

Amanda will never know and you’d hate yourself afterward.” He shook Clay’s shoulders slightly.

“Now – go to bed before I hit something – the something being you!” Clay pushed his friend away angrily, stomping to his bunk.

“Leave me alone!” he yelled and crawled inside.

He yanked the curtains closed and proceeded to slip on his headphones and turn the volume on his iPod all the way up.

He listened until the battery died, his ears ringing when he lay the headphones aside.

No amount of music had worked to distract him, however.

He’d lain there, hating her, hating himself, and hating Jeremy most of all.

He’d replayed their conversation over and over in his mind, trying to find a way to believe that it wasn’t true.

But the fact was that she had lied.

Even when she knew he would be upset, she had been honest about being out with Jeremy – until now.

He knew that Jeremy had been at her apartment.

She had flat-out lied to him – there was no question.

And if she lied, she had a reason to lie.

He closed his eyes, knowing that sleep wasn’t going to come.

His mind tortured him with remembering.

Remembering the first time he’d seen her;

The night he’d first kissed her;

Remembering when he had told her he loved her;

Remembering the first time he had made love to her.

He remembered the way she had walked into his arms when he’d gone to her house to find her.

He’d thought at that moment that she would never leave his arms again.

But now she’d been in someone else’s arms.

Someone else knew what it was to kiss her, to touch her, to make love to her.

Someone else knew what it was like to hold her afterward.

Irrationally, he fixated on the fact that she had said Jeremy made her laugh.

That meant she had looked up at Jeremy with her eyes twinkling, laughing that laugh that made him want to pull her into his arms and never let her go.

Jeremy knew what it was like to see her face light up with a smile.

And he knew what it was like when she fought to stay awake after they had made love.

He wondered if Jeremy had eased her to sleep like he always did.

The thought of that man touching her made his stomach turn and he fought another wave of fury. When the bus pulled up to the hotel in the wee hours of the morning, he hadn’t been asleep.

When everyone else collapsed on their beds inside the hotel, greedy for a few more hours of sleep, Clay tossed his bag on the bed and walked to the window.

He had no intention of sleeping.

As long as he stayed awake, he could continue to hate her.

If he fell asleep, he might dream about her.

And if he dreamed about her, he would want her.

Chapter 11 Amanda didn’t realize until she saw Janice’s hand move in front of her face that the other woman was talking to her.

“Yoohoo, Amanda?” She glanced at her friend.

“Sorry, I was distracted.” “I’d say so.

I’ve been trying to get your attention for a while now.” “What did you want?” “I just asked if you had a good weekend.” Amanda doodled on her notebook, fighting the urge to confess how horrible her weekend had truly been.

She hadn’t talked to Clay since late Friday night when he had gotten so angry with her.

She figured she would give him some space, some time to calm down – assuming he would call her when he had come to his senses.

When she had left her apartment that morning a little before eight o’clock, he still hadn’t called.

She looked at Janice and attempted a smile.

“It was okay.” Janice’s face fell.

“That good, huh?” Amanda laughed.

“Is it that obvious?” She nodded.

“Did you two have another fight?” “Yeah – the same old thing.” Janice sighed.

“What are you going to do?” “I have no idea.

It’s not fair for me to have to give up my friend, but I can’t stand fighting with Clay all the time.

I’m not sleeping well, and I can’t concentrate on my work - not to mention what it's doing to our relationship.” “Does he know that?

Know what it’s doing to you?” She shrugged.

“I’m sure it’s not easy for him, either.

We haven’t talked since Friday night.

I figured he would call me today sometime – he’s at home today.” Janice nodded.

“Maybe being at home will be good for him.” “Maybe.

I certainly hope so,” Amanda said just as the professor walked in and she tried to push her thoughts of Clay aside.

An hour later, when she packed up her things, she asked Janice if she could borrow her notes. “Why?

Did you miss something?” Janice asked. Amanda opened her notebook, showing the blank page.

“Kinda.” Clay pushed his food around on his plate, distracted.

His mom was talking a mile a minute, updating him on everything that had happened at home in the past few weeks.

He felt his brother’s eyes on him and looked up to find Brett staring.

He attempted a smile and then tried to concentrate on what Faye was saying. “And then, of course, once she spotted me, a small crowd gathered.

At the doctor’s office!

I was half-expecting someone to ask for my blood work and want it autographed!” Clay laughed, taking a sip of his drink.

“I wouldn’t have been surprised.” Faye watched her son, fighting the urge to ask him what was wrong.

She reminded herself that he was an adult and if he wanted her to know, he’d tell her.

Ever since he’d gotten into town on Sunday, he’d been withdrawn.

And she sensed carefully restrained animosity beneath the surface.

Not toward her, but there nonetheless.

A few minutes later, she noticed that he hadn’t eaten much of his lunch when she cleaned off the table and he was sitting on the couch with Brett, talking.

I will not meddle , she thought to herself as she washed dishes, hoping that Brett would ask him so she wouldn’t have to. Brett glanced at his older brother, debating on bringing up the obvious.

He cleared his throat.

“Hey, wanna see what I’ve done to the car?” “What did you do?” Clay asked. “Come see,” Brett said, standing.

Clay followed his brother to the garage and made the appropriate sounds of approval when Brett showed him the new stereo equipment he had installed. “Looks good.

You did it all yourself?” Brett nodded, smiling.

“Yep. I only had to ask for help once – and that was just because I had bought the wrong part.” He shut off the engine and ran his hand over the dash, looking up at Clay.

“You haven’t mentioned Amanda – how is she?” Clay’s jaw immediately tightened and he looked over the hood of the car, his gaze focusing on the row of tools hanging on the wall.

“She’s fine.” Brett tapped the steering wheel, uncomfortable.

“Doesn’t seem like she’s fine,” he said, not looking up.

“Or maybe that the two of you aren’t fine.” Clay coughed.

“We’ve been better.” He was quiet for a moment and finally lowered his eyes to look at his brother.

“I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention it to Mom, though.

I’ll tell her on my own time.” Brett nodded.

“I won’t tell her.

But what happened – if you’ll say?” Clay shook his head.

“Doesn’t matter what it was.

All that matters is that everything is different now.” “You’re still together, aren’t you?” Clay closed his eyes, fighting the pang of hurt that plagued him constantly.

It was much easier to hate her than it was to miss her.

“Technically, yes.” He looked away again.

“I better get inside and get changed.

I have a lot of stuff to do before the show starts.” Brett got out of the car and Clay glanced at him.

“Remember about Mom.” “I will.” Brett watched Clay walk into the house and sat down in his car again with a huff.

Frustrated and upset for his brother, he smacked the steering wheel, inadvertently blowing the horn.

The door to the garage opened a moment later, and Faye poked her head out. “What are you doing?” Brett got out and shut the car door.

“I hit it by mistake,” he said as he passed her. Faye touched her son’s arm, stalling him.

“What’s wrong with your brother?” He met his mother’s gaze, shaking his head.

“We didn’t talk about it.” Faye watched her son walk away.

“But you noticed that something is wrong?” “Maybe he’s nervous about the show – I don’t know,” he said, eager to get out of the room. “Yeah.

Maybe,” Faye said softly, knowing it was more than that.

And, she feared, far worse than that. Amanda rolled over restlessly, glancing up at the ceiling.

She looked at the clock on her nightstand and sighed heavily.

Four in the morning and she hadn’t been asleep.

She’d waited up until after one, sitting by the phone and willing it to ring.

Surely he would call after the show, she thought.

She knew it sometimes took him a while to get on the bus and get settled and he probably had a lot of people to say goodbye to since he was home.

At one-thirty, she had given up and gone to bed, figuring that since it was four-thirty where he was, he was asleep.

Maybe he was exhausted after the show , she told herself.

As she sat up in the bed, pulling her knees to her chest, she fought the feeling of panic that told her it had nothing to do with exhaustion.

He’d been mad before, but something was different.

His voice had been more than angry on the phone the last time they had talked – it had been vicious.

She swallowed painfully at the memory, remembering other times when his voice had been soft and loving.

The Clay on the phone Friday night was not the same man who had tenderly cupped her face and asked her to spend the rest of her life with him.

And he wasn’t the same man who had almost bashfully given her a stuffed kitten because he was afraid of the real thing but knew she loved them.

Laying her cheek on her knee, she closed her eyes and prayed softly that whatever was wrong between them would soon be righted. Knowing that sleep was futile, she got out of bed and, wrapping a blanket around herself, wandered down the hall and flopped on the couch.

From her seat, she would be able to tell when the sun came up.

Not caring if she woke him, she intended to call him as soon as it was daylight there.

Desperate for any distraction, she turned on the TV and dozed fitfully while she half-watched paid programming. Clay sighed loudly as he heard his phone ringing.

Reaching for it blindly, he lay it on his pillow and opened one eye to see who was calling him.

Seeing Amanda apartment on the screen, he opened both eyes and sat up.

His heart was pounding, and he hated that he couldn’t control his body’s reaction.

He’d told himself that he wasn’t going to talk to her, but having to make the decision to not answer her call was making his chest tighten painfully.

Mentally willing her to hang up quickly so the ringing would stop, he stared at the phone.

When it silenced and the screen went dark again, he lay back on the bed and covered his eyes with his arm.

Kicking the sheets off, he reminded himself that he didn’t want to talk to her.

His fingers were itching to pick up the phone and call her back and beg her to tell him that it wasn’t true, that he had overreacted again.

Getting out of bed angrily, he replayed his conversation with Jeremy in his mind.

He pushed the curtains apart in his hotel room, looking down at the busy street below him.

She was the one who had slept with someone else.

She was the one who had made the decision to throw away what they had.

She was the one who had evidently stopped loving him.

Yanking the curtains closed again, he told himself that if she could do it, he could, too.

I can stop loving her , he reasoned as he turned on the shower.

As the water beat against his back, he wondered how long it would take.

While he showered and the noise of the water surrounded him, he couldn’t hear his cell phone ringing from the other room. Amanda listened to Clay’s voice mail pick up for the fifth time.

She decided to leave a message this time, hoping that he really was away from his phone and not ignoring her.

When she heard the small beep, she cleared her throat.

“Hey, it’s me,” she said softly.

“I don’t know if you’re asleep or away from your phone or whatever, but I just wanted to check in.

I hope the show went well last night – I’m sure you were happy to be home for a while.” She paused, wondering how long a message she could leave.

“Clay, will you please call me back?

I want us to work this out.

I miss you. I love you.” She paused again and then ended her call, staring at the phone for a moment.

She rubbed her thumb across the screen slowly before laying her phone on the coffee table and turning onto her side on the couch.

She attempted to sleep, but she was afraid she wouldn’t hear the phone if it rang.

By ten o’clock – nearly three hours after she had called him – she gave up and went to change clothes.

She needed to get out of the apartment.

A run would clear her head.

As she stepped outside and zipped up her jacket against the slight chill in the air, she slipped her cell phone into her pocket and patted it gently.

Maybe he would call after he was up and had a free moment. Clay pulled his sweatshirt over his head, trying to hurry.

He was late for his meet-and-greet and Jerome was going to give him grief if he wasn’t ready.

His cell phone rang again and he picked it up, glancing at the screen.

He tossed it into his bag, wishing that she would stop calling.

When he had gotten out of the shower that morning, he’d seen that she had left him a voice mail.

Against his better judgment, he had listened to it – not quite prepared for the sound of her voice over the phone.

She sounded upset and she sounded like she missed him and loved him, but he knew it was all an act.

She might miss the thrill of having two men who wanted her, but that would soon pass.

There were plenty of available guys in L.A.

– it wouldn’t take her long to find another one who was as stupid and gullible as he had been.

Pulling on his tennis shoes, he fought off another pang of sadness.

Would she find another guy who would love her like he had?

He wondered for a moment if Jeremy knew how lucky he was – if he realized what he had when he had her.

Sitting back on the couch in his dressing room, he wondered if Jeremy noticed how she played with her straw when was bored in a restaurant.

Or if he noticed that all the cans in her pantry were sorted by color.

Smiling softly, he wondered if Jeremy also took the opportunity to move the cans around so that she would have to fix them and he’d get to listen to her tell him that she knew it was crazy, but it looked “prettier” that way.

The heavy feeling in his chest shook him out of his trance and he stood and walked to the door.

Jeremy probably didn’t care about any of that.

That thought made him pause for a moment, his hand on the doorknob, before he pushed his thoughts aside and went back to work. Amanda had moved beyond sadness.

She was irritated.

She had been trying to call Clay for over twenty-four hours and he had yet to answer his phone or return her call.

By Tuesday evening, she had resorted to calling Jerome’s cell phone, only to have it ring unanswered as well.

She had left a total of five voice mails between the two men, and she was beginning to feel stupid.

He clearly didn’t want to talk to her, and he had obviously told Jerome not to talk to her, either.

She had tried every form of distraction she knew – she’d worked, she had gone running, she had washed her car, she had done all of her laundry, including ironing all of her clothes.

After two nights of minimal sleep and the knowledge that she’d never be able to sit still all day, she had skipped her classes on Wednesday.

Several of her friends from class – including Jeremy – had called to check on her and they all got the same response: I’m fine.

I don’t need anything.

No, you don’t need to come over .

As she stirred her dinner and told herself not to call Clay again, she mentally composed the severe talking-to he was going to get when he finally did call her.

It was fine for him to be mad at her, but this silent treatment was not helping the situation at all.

He wasn’t “winning” by not talking to her, if that’s what he had in mind.

Lost in her mental rant, she jumped and dropped the spoon down inside the pot when her phone rang loudly.

Hastily picking up the spoon and laying it on the counter, she answered her phone and noticed her hand was shaking. “Hello?” “Amanda?” She sighed.

It was one of her friends, Stacia.

“Hey, what are you doing?” The other woman hesitated.

“Not much. What are you doing?” “Trying to fix myself some dinner and not fly to Philadelphia and kill Clayton Holmes Aiken.” Stacia exhaled, slightly relieved.

“So you know already?” Amanda stirred her soup, noticing that it was starting to stick and thinking she needed to turn down the heat.

“Know what?” “About the woman he was with the other night?” Amanda’s hand froze on the knob of the stove as her heart leapt into her throat.

“The what?” Stacia mentally kicked herself.

“You didn’t watch Entertainment Tonight , I guess?” Amanda realized that her mouth had gone completely dry.

“No. Why? What are you talking about?” she asked, her voice sounding weird to her own ears. “Well, I just got home and downloaded the clip.

You didn’t know he was going to be on there?” She felt something in her chest.

It hurt. He hadn’t even bothered to tell her he would be on TV.

“No. I didn’t know.

There was a woman?” She was gripping the counter tightly, her mind running through the possibilities.

It was probably Quiana or Angela and she had misunderstood. “Evidently they were with him in Miami – ET was, that is.

And they showed some backstage footage and part of the show and then showed Clay and Kelly out in the city before the show.

They were shopping and goofing around and there was some woman with Clay.

Not a part of the band.” “Shopping with him?” Maybe they had hired an additional stylist.

Clay never shopped alone anymore.

That had to be it. Stacia paused.

“Not exactly.” Amanda felt her fingers trembling.

“What then?” “From what I could tell – it was a quick clip, so I’m not sure – they were standing in a store and Kelly was goofing around trying on hats.

Clay is standing behind this woman and he has his arms around her.

And he glances at the camera as it pans to him and it looks like his arms tighten around her and he kind of…”she trailed off. “He kind of what?” Amanda asked quickly. “Well, some people are saying he kissed her neck.

I don’t think he did.

I think he just moved his head and it looked that way.” Amanda’s eyes closed and she swallowed with some difficulty.

“You didn’t recognize the woman?” “No.” “What did she look like?” she asked, her eyes still closed. “Um, probably around your height.

Dark hair and well…we’d hate her,” she said simply.

There was a moment of silence and Stacia said quickly, “It’s probably nothing.

Like I said, it’s really, really quick.

The footage is actually of Kelly goofing off, he’s just in the background.

So, it’s really hard to tell what is going on.

If I hadn’t been to the boards, I wouldn’t even have noticed it,” she lied. “Really?” Amanda asked, her voice cracking.

“Don’t lie to me, Stacia.

You know I can go find the clip and see for myself.

What do you really think?” Stacia was silent for what seemed like a long time before she spoke.

“I think you need to talk to Clay.” A tear slid over Amanda’s cheek.

“He won’t talk to me,” she said brokenly. “Do you need me to come out there?” Stacia asked, worried. Amanda shook her head.

“No.” She wiped her face quickly.

“I don’t know what to do.

Everything has just fallen apart.” “What happened?” “I don’t know,” she whispered.

Taking a deep breath, she attempted to explain.

“There’s this guy - a friend of mine - and Clay hates him.

He’s been paranoid that something is going on between Jeremy and I.

We had a fight Friday night and he hasn’t spoken to me since.

He won’t answer his phone.” “Have you tried Jerome?” “No answer.” “Amanda, you have to go to him then.

He might be able to ignore the phone, but he can’t ignore you standing right in front of him.” “What?

Where? How?” Stacia walked to her computer.

“He has a show in New York tomorrow night and then he’s in D.C.

On Friday. He’s actually going to be on The View in the morning – did you know that?” Amanda shook her head, her throat closing as she swallowed tears.

“No.” “Yeah. He’s supposed to sing.

He was on The Today Show this morning.

He looked all puffy and tired.” “Probably a bit like I do,” she said, trying to laugh and failing.

“How did he seem?” “Like I said – tired.

He sang ‘The Way,’ but he sang it differently – lower.” She felt a jolt at the thought of him singing what had always been one of their songs only days after he’d been out with another woman.

“So, what? I fly to New York?” “Can you get your stuff together and get out there tomorrow?

I know you don’t do well operating on short notice.” “For him?

Yes.” “Then get off the phone with me and book a flight.” “I’m going to,” she said, concentrating on what she had to do instead of why she had to do it.

“Thank you for calling.” “Just let me know what happens.” “I will.” Amanda hung up the phone and opened a drawer, looking for her phone book.

Her finger was shaking as she skimmed the page for the number and she noticed her hand was trembling as she dialed.

When she hung up with the airline, she looked for something else to do.

She couldn’t let her thoughts overwhelm her or she’d break down.

She cleaned up the kitchen, throwing away her uneaten soup and scrubbing the pot and sink.

When it was clean and she had also vacuumed and dusted the living room, she glanced at her computer in the corner.

As she shut the hallway closet after putting the vacuum away, she rubbed her hands on her thighs, noticing they were clammy.

Her legs feeling like lead, she walked to her desk and sat down.

A few minutes later, she cautiously hit play and wrapped her arms around her stomach.

The instant his image flashed on the screen, she felt like the breath had been knocked out of her.

He looked different.

His eyes were different.

And where had he gotten that shirt?

If she had begged him and promised to do anything he wanted, she’d have never gotten him to wear anything that clingy.

The blue looked gorgeous on him, she noticed.

When she saw Kelly trying on different hats in a store, she felt her stomach start to hurt.

The camera panned to Clay suddenly, and she covered her mouth.

She didn’t think Stacia had been lying, but it was completely different to see it for herself.

She tortured herself by backing up the video and pausing it.

Her gaze was fixated on the way his hands were resting on top of the woman’s own hands on her stomach.

How many times had Clay and she stood exactly like that?

And most of those times he had done just what he did with this woman – he had lowered his head and kissed her neck gently.

Stacia was right about it being hard to tell what he actually did, but the sick feeling in her stomach and the jab of betrayal and hurt that went through her when she saw it told her all she needed to know.

Whether he had actually kissed the woman’s neck or not, the moment looked intimate and all too familiar.

She stared at the woman’s face, hating her with every ounce of her being.

She was everything Amanda wasn’t - dark hair, a gorgeous tan, and a body to kill for.

And evidently she had something else Amanda didn’t have – she had Clay. She wasn’t sure how long she stared at the computer screen.

Long enough that she realized she was going to have to hope that she could sleep on the plane if she wanted to be at all rested when she saw him the next day.

Using packing as a distraction, she threw everything she thought she’d need into a bag.

When she had done everything she could conceivably do to waste time, she lay on the couch and curled her knees close to her chest.

She tucked a pillow under her head and closed her eyes tightly, trying not to cry.

A few minutes later, the pillow wet against her cheek, she rolled to her other side and tried to tell herself that she hadn’t lost the most important person in her life. Clay switched off the TV in the hotel room.

Jerome looked at him from across the room, frowning. “Well, are you satisfied?” Jerome asked, irritated. Clay glanced at his bodyguard and friend.

“What?” “You made it look for all the world like you were cozied up to Rebecca – are you happy now?” “I don’t care what anyone thinks,” he said, standing and taking a bottle of water out of the mini-fridge.

“I like Rebecca,” he said, talking about Kelly’s stylist. “Who do you think you’re talking to, Clay?

I’m not stupid. You care.

You care what Amanda thinks.

And you don’t like Rebecca in that way – you said only a few days ago that you didn’t understand how Kelly tolerated her.

How do you even know Amanda will see it?” He took a drink of his water.

“She’ll see it eventually.” “So what did you accomplish?” Jerome asked angrily.

He had told Clay that if he went out with Kelly and Rebecca, he was going to automatically be linked to one of them.

When he had seen the footage of Clay standing with his arms around Rebecca, he’d shaken his head, disappointed in Clay for the first time since he’d known him.

“Does it make you feel like a real man to hurt Amanda since she hurt you?” Clay’s eyes flared.

“You have no idea how I feel.” “You’re not the first person to be cheated on, Clay.

Nor will you be the last.

I understand being angry.

I understand you wanting to cut her out of your life.

And if you were really interested in Rebecca, it would be a different story.

But you’re being petty and you’re being fake and frankly, I’m not happy with you.” “Fine.

Don’t be happy. But maybe now she’ll know what it’s like to feel betrayed.” “And now you know what it’s like to be vindictive,” he said, standing and leaving the room. Clay watched him go, unmoved.

He knew exactly how Amanda would feel when she saw the clip.

She’d feel like the breath had been knocked out of her and her mind would torture her with images of Rebecca and him together.

He drank the last of his water and tossed the bottle in the trash.

At least they’d be even.

Chapter 12 By six in the morning, still an hour before her flight, Amanda was waiting in the departure lounge at the airport.

Her apartment had begun to smother her, and she had left much earlier than was necessary to make her flight.

She glanced at the bleary-eyed travelers who were just disembarking and making their way to the baggage claim.

A little blonde-haired girl was rubbing her eyes sleepily and made eye contact with Amanda, smiling.

Amanda felt her throat constrict painfully, but she smiled back, waving.

She glanced at her watch, telling herself not to call him since he wouldn’t answer his phone anyway.

Picking up a magazine, she attempted to distract herself.

After she had read the first line of the same article three times without actually reading it, she tossed the magazine aside and exhaled loudly.

Her glance landed on her phone again and she debated for a moment before picking it up and dialing. Faye jumped slightly at the sound of the phone ringing.

Putting down her cup of coffee, she answered.

“Hello?” “Faye?” Amanda’s voice said softly. Her heart jumping into her throat, Faye stood and walked to the couch, unable to sit still at the kitchen table.

“Yes, Dear. Is something wrong?” Amanda closed her eyes tightly, not wanting to cry in the middle of the airport.

“I’m not sure,” she managed. “Is it Clay?” “Yes.” Faye sighed.

“I knew something was wrong.

What happened?” Amanda shook her head.

“It’s not important what it was.

I just wanted to know if you had spoken to him.

How is he?” “You haven’t spoken to him?” “Not since Friday.” Faye’s stomach dropped.

She should have asked him.

She should have meddled.

“Did you two have a fight?” “Yes.

I’m at the airport now.

I’m waiting for a flight to Long Island.” “Good,” she said, standing and walking to the window.

If she closed her eyes, she could see Clay and Amanda in the backyard, going back and forth between throwing snowballs at one another and kissing in the snow.

She sighed. “Talk to him, Amanda.

Obviously, I don’t know what is going on, and it’s really none of my business.

But he loves you and the two of you can work this out – whatever it is.” “Are you sure he loves me?” Amanda asked softly. Faye’s heart lurched.

Amanda had sounded scared and if she doubted the fact that Clay loved her, something was very, very wrong.

“Oh, Honey, I’m sure,” she said, trying not to think about how guarded and withdrawn Clay had been when he’d been home earlier that week.

“Talk to him.” “I will,” she said, rubbing her leg lightly, her bracelet catching her eye.

“And could you please not tell him that I called you?

If you’re not comfortable with that, I understand.

It’s just that he’s rather sensitive about me, it seems.

He might be upset if he knew I was checking up on him, so to speak.” “I understand.

Clayton doesn’t need to know everything.” She paused, something weighing on her mind.

“Amanda, do you mind if I ask you a question?” “No, go ahead.” “Do you still love him ?” Amanda released a breath shakily.

“Absolutely.” Faye nodded.

“All right, Dear.

Good luck,” she said, hanging up.

After she replaced the phone on the base, she continued to stand at the window, staring out. Amanda parked her rental car outside the coliseum and stared up at the enormous building.

She’d slept restlessly on the plane and a quick look in the rearview mirror confirmed that the dark circles under her eyes had not improved.

It wasn’t going to be her appearance that softened him, she was sure of that.

She had forsaken the thought of trying to entice him by how she dressed in favor of her intense need to be comforted – even if it was by clothes.

She looked down at the oversized Charlotte sweatshirt she had stolen from him months ago and rubbed her hands on the thighs of her jeans.

Picking up her purse from the passenger seat, she quickly exited the car and hurried inside, her body not used to the dramatic drop in temperature.

Once inside, she went up to the first security guard she saw and smiled. “Hi, I don’t know if you can help me or not, but I need to get backstage.

There’s usually a list – my name should be on it.” It was almost six, so she knew Clay would be there and would be backstage. The guard smiled slightly.

“Name? And could you please follow me?” He walked to an information desk and picked up a clipboard, staring at her. “Amanda Morris,” she said, looking around for any sight of Jerome.

People were already crowding in for the show, so no one was paying much attention to her. “I don’t see it, Ma’am,” he said, looking up. Amanda faltered.

“Are you sure? M-o-r-r-i-s.” He scanned his list again, shaking his head.

“Nope, not here.” She swallowed.

“Is there any way I could speak to Jerome Bell?” The guard frowned.

“If you have a gift, I can take it backstage.” She shook her head, her hair tickling her face.

“No, I don’t have a gift.

I promise you, I’m not a fan trying to get backstage.

If you could just find Jerome and tell him that Amanda is here, that would be fine.

Could you do that?” The guard hesitated, looking down at her.

The woman certainly didn’t look like she was a fan trying to get backstage.

In fact, she looked a little like she was lost and he was slightly concerned that she was going to cry.

“Just a moment, Ma’am,” he said finally, walking away from her. Amanda turned around, her eyes scanning the crowd, but not seeing it.

Getting out of the way, she leaned against the wall and watched the hallway where the guard had disappeared.

As she waited, she told herself to take deep breaths.

She had always been on the list.

Clay and she had discussed it before he left – he would make sure she was on it in case she decided to come to a show and they couldn’t find him.

They used the same list for every show, so if her name wasn’t on there, he had taken her off.

The thought made her close her eyes and she could feel her stomach trembling with nerves.

Taking another deep breath, she opened her eyes and resumed her watch for the security guard. Clay was laughing at Kelly as she was attempting to impersonate him.

“I do not do that!” he yelled when she started moving her hands dramatically while she sang.

Most of the band was congregated in Clay’s dressing room prior to the show, including Jerome and the rest of their private security.

The knock on the door was a minor distraction as Danny moved to answer it. “Can I help you?” Danny asked, smiling at the security guard. “Yes, I need to speak with Jerome,” he said. Jerome, hearing his name, stood and walked to the door.

Danny nodded to him and rejoined the others, laughing as Clay put on one of Kelly’s hats and did his own impression.

“Is there a problem?” Jerome asked, still smiling. “Not a problem.

There’s a young woman who is asking to see you – she seems to think she should be on the list to get backstage.” Jerome sighed, not wanting to deal with a crazed fan at the moment.

“If she’s not on the list, she doesn’t come backstage.” “I told her that, Sir, but she asked that I speak with you.

Says her name is Amanda and you’d know who she was.” Jerome’s entire body stiffened.

He glanced over his shoulder at Clay, who wasn’t paying attention to their conversation.

Turning back to the guard, he asked, “Morris?” “Yes, Sir.

Should I just tell her that she’s mistaken?” Jerome shook his head.

“Can you give us a minute?

Don’t say anything to her yet.” The guard nodded and stepped aside to wait as Jerome shut the door.

Jerome turned back to the group and cleared his throat.

“Clay? Come here for a second.” Clay paused mid-sentence when Jerome said his name, glancing at the other man.

The expression on Jerome’s face didn’t look very promising, and he hoped there wasn’t a problem with some of the fans.

Leaving the others, he joined Jerome at the door.

“What’s wrong?” Jerome’s gaze darted to the group behind them and then settled on Clay as he hesitated.

Lowering his voice, he said, “Amanda is here.” Clay stared back at him, feeling his heart begin to race.

She actually flew out to see him?

He shifted his weight back and forth for a moment.

“What does she want?” “To see you, I imagine.

The guard told her she wasn’t on the list, and she asked to speak to me.” Clay’s mind and heart were in turmoil.

He knew that he didn’t need to see her, but something in him was crying out for just that.

The knowledge that she was only a few feet away from him was already making his hands tremble with a combination of nervousness and anger. Jerome watched the play of emotions on Clay’s face.

“What do you want me to do?” Clay bit his lip, looking away.

“Give me a minute,” he said quietly. Jerome nodded and stepped outside.

He smiled at the security guard slightly.

“I’ll take care of it, thank you.

Is she at the entrance?” “Yes, Sir.

And you’re welcome,” he said, walking away and disappearing around a corner.

Jerome watched him go and set his jaw before he made his way to the front of the coliseum.

He saw her before she saw him.

Before he could help himself, he felt sorry for her.

She was leaning against the wall and looked to him like a very nervous young woman who was also incredibly exhausted.

He told himself that she had put herself in this situation when she had decided to cheat and kept that in mind as he approached her.

She looked up just as he got to her. “Follow me,” he said flatly. Amanda opened her mouth to say something and shut it again, sensing that her comments were not welcome.

She watched Jerome’s back as he walked, feeling her heart start to race when he stopped in front of what was clearly a dressing room.

He looked down at her.

“Wait here,” he said before he disappeared inside. Clay had quickly ushered everyone out of his dressing room and was sitting on the edge of the couch, his thoughts tumbling over one another.

What would she say?

What would he say?

Would she try to defend herself or would she admit everything?

Would he be able to be in the same room with her and maintain his resolve that he didn’t want anything to do with her?

When Jerome opened the door, Clay’s head jerked up.

She was evidently standing to the side of the door because he didn’t even catch a glimpse of her before Jerome shut it behind him. “Is she out there?” Clay asked, standing. Jerome nodded.

“I’ll leave you two alone.

But if you need anything – anything – don’t hesitate to come get me.

I won’t be far away.” He waited for Clay to nod in agreement.

When he did, Jerome went back out into the hallway and left the door open.

“You can go in,” he said shortly, looking at Amanda coldly. She watched Jerome walk down the hall a short distance and then pushed the door open, taking a deep breath.

Clay turned to face her just as she was inside the room and she faltered slightly when the expression in his eyes immediately hardened. Clay thought he was prepared to see her, but he was wrong.

The moment he looked at her, he felt himself flush with anger.

He thought about her being with Jeremy – about her lying in bed in the next room while he talked on the phone with Jeremy, her body still tired from making love to the other man – and he thought about her lying to him only hours later.

She was staring at him, probably waiting for him to say something, and he noticed belatedly that she was wearing his sweatshirt.

He ignored the jab of tenderness that pierced him at the sight of her in his clothes.

He also noticed that she looked exhausted.

In his current frame of mind, it only angered him further because he assumed Jeremy was keeping her rather busy at night. “Do you want something?” he asked finally. Amanda’s heart was pounding so loudly in her ears that she wasn’t sure if she heard him correctly.

She knew instinctively that this wasn’t a normal fight.

This wasn’t something that they were going to be able to work out.

He wasn’t just angry with her.

If she admitted it to herself, the expression in his eyes looked very much like hatred.

For the first time since she had known him, she found it unbearable to meet his gaze and looked away.

While he stood watching her, she contemplated simply turning around and leaving.

He didn’t want her anymore.

He’d evidently found someone else.

And maybe all their fights were simply to push her away.

He felt guilty for his feelings for this other girl and wanted to make her feel guilty, also.

Just as she started to turn to go, something stopped her.

She had spent five months of her life with him.

She had moved across the country for him.

She had left her family and all her friends behind to be with him.

She had practically gone in to hiding so she could be with him.

She had given him something she could never, ever get back.

She had agreed to spend the rest of her life with him He was away from her for a week and a half and he was already with someone else?

Something in her snapped and she glanced at him. Clay watched Amanda realize how he felt.

She’d never been good at hiding her emotions from him and nothing had changed.

She knew he was using every ounce of his self control not to lash out at her.

She knew he was more than a little angry with her.

And he could tell that she was considering leaving.

He saw her turn toward the door.

When she paused, he felt his chest tighten unexpectedly.

He figured the combination of her own guilt and the realization that he knew would be enough to send her packing.

She turned to face him, meeting his gaze, and he saw a bit of his own anger reflected in her eyes.

She was mad at him ? “Yes, I want something,” she said finally.

She crossed her arms.

“I want to know if you were planning on ever answering your phone when I called?” He met her gaze levelly.

“No.” She dropped her arms, exasperated.

“Was I supposed to just stop trying?” “I figured.” She raised her eyebrows.

“So then it would be my fault?

Then you could blame me for our relationship falling apart?” He smirked slightly and pain sliced through her.

“I already blame you.” “Why?” “I think you know why.” “Enlighten me, why don’t you,” she said condescendingly. “Well, I figure our relationship fell apart about the same time you hopped in the sack with Jeremy.” “When I what?

You think I slept with Jeremy?” Amanda asked, her mouth dropping open in shock.

Had she really heard him correctly?

She blinked slowly, feeling as if he’d just punched her in the stomach .

. .

This chapter comes back to the present: post-break-up.

Ch. 2-12 were flashbacks. Chapter 13 Present Amanda walked into her apartment numbly, ignoring the rapidly blinking light on her answering machine.

The last thing she wanted to do was talk to anyone.

No, the last thing she wanted to do was think about what had just happened.

It was early in the morning after she had flown home from New York and she had barely slept on the plane, afraid to close her eyes and risk dreaming about him.

Dropping her bags in the living room, she mused bitterly that she hadn’t even unzipped them.

She hadn’t even taken anything out of the trunk.

Peeling off her sweatshirt as she walked down the hall, she threw it on the floor.

Once in her bedroom, she glanced at her bed and felt physically ill at the thought of sleeping where he had been.

She started to go into the guest bedroom and her eyes fell on the framed picture of the two of them on her nightstand.

It was on Christmas morning and they were both in pajamas, his arms around her and his temple resting against hers as he leaned down.

The Christmas tree was visible in the background and the bracelet he had given her was around her wrist.

Looking at it in the picture, she ran her finger over her now bare wrist.

Picking up the photograph, she rubbed her thumb over his face slowly.

She stared at it for a moment before she opened her closet door and put it on a high shelf.

Spotting an empty box on the shelf, she weighed her desire to collapse in the bed against her desire to create some kind of closure. With a sigh, she pulled down the box and then spent the next few hours inspecting her apartment, putting anything and everything that remotely reminded her of him in the box.

When she was finished, she had two full boxes of assorted items – clothes of his she had taken over the months, his toothbrush, his aftershave, a few pairs of his pajamas, several photographs, and other assorted gifts he had given her.

She taped one of the boxes shut after she finally found her packing tape and then pulled the other one closer to where she was sitting on the floor.

She started to tape it shut and something caught her eye.

Opening the box the rest of the way, she took out a small, white, stuffed kitten and ran her hand over its back.

She held it for a long time, lost in the memory.

Shaking her head to clear it, she sat the kitten aside and wiped her face hastily before she taped the second box closed, also.

She dug around in her desk drawer until she found a permanent marker and then addressed each box.

Not caring how she looked, she carted the two boxes out to her car and then went back for her purse.

The man at the post office looked at her strangely but didn’t comment.

She was sure she looked frightening.

In reality, it had been almost five nights since she had had any real, restful sleep.

She’d spent fourteen hours on a plane in less than twenty-four hours, she was wearing a very old, very faded t-shirt and jeans, she’d been crying for what felt like forever, and she was mailing two large boxes to Clay Aiken. The man at the window gave her the postage total and she carefully counted her money, grateful for way the counting occupied her mind.

After her boxes were set aside, ready to mail, she looked at them sadly for a brief moment before she turned and left.

Her phone was ringing as she went inside her apartment, but she ignored it.

After it stopped, she picked up the receiver and turned off the ringer.

She turned off all her lights and walked down the hall and into the guest bedroom.

The bed wasn’t as familiar as her own, but she also couldn’t vividly feel what it was like to lie in that bed with Clay’s arms around her.

Exhaling shakily, she forced herself to stop crying and her week of restless nights finally caught up with her, allowing her to fall asleep.

As she felt her body relaxing, she prayed that it would be a dreamless sleep.

Or that when she woke up she would realize everything else had been a dream. Clay opened one eye cautiously as Jerome shook him awake.

"What?" he croaked. "Get up.

We’re at the hotel.

You can sleep in a real bed instead of on the couch," he muttered, looking for Clay’s bag.

Everyone else had already gone inside, leaving Jerome to deal with Clay. Clay sat up and stretched, groaning.

"What time is it?" Jerome was picking up a few stray pieces of clothes, shoving them in a bag.

"About six a.m. Clay, could you be a little neater, please?

How can you make such a mess when you’re only on the bus and awake for a few hours?" "Excuse me!" Clay said irritably.

"I didn’t feel much like cleaning up." Jerome paused, feeling like a jerk for criticizing.

"It’s okay." Clay stood, scratching his stomach underneath his t-shirt.

His mind, still cushioned by sleep, was wonderfully blank.

Jerome bent over to pick up a sweatshirt and Clay saw something fall out of his pocket.

He walked over and picked it up, not looking at what it was.

"You dropped something," he said, holding out his hand. Jerome turned around, his gaze riveting on the bracelet in Clay’s outstretched hand.

His eyes rose to Clay’s and he waited, holding his breath. Clay noticed an odd expression cross Jerome’s features and heard him inhale sharply.

Confused, he moved his hand.

"Well, take it!" As he said it, he looked down and felt everything in him still.

Her bracelet. The one he had given her.

He stared at the small silver circle on his palm, barely aware of where he was.

In his mind, he was sitting on the floor in his bedroom in Raleigh on Christmas morning and he was watching her open the box.

His mind skipped forward to the countless times he had seen her wearing it and he remembered how each time his heart had swelled at the knowledge that she loved him, that she was the person he was going to be with for the rest of his life.

The bracelet had been a constant that always reminded him of where they had begun and where they would always be.

And now she had taken it off.

She didn’t want it anymore.

She didn’t want him anymore.

She didn’t want them anymore.

His fingers jerked as the realization hit him and the bracelet fell onto the floor.

He stared at it, his head down. When Jerome saw Clay’s arm and then his hand start to tremble and the bracelet fall to the floor, he stopped his impulse to pick it up.

Clay looked up at him suddenly, his eyes wide.

"She’s gone," he said softly.

"She’s really gone." Jerome didn’t know what to say.

"Do you want me to stay?" he asked.

Clay shook his head and said "no" in a low voice.

Jerome put his hand on Clay’s shoulder and squeezed gently before he walked past him.

He stepped off the bus and stood by the door, crossing his arms. Inside, Clay continued to stare at the bracelet that was still lying on the floor.

He bent over slowly and picked it up, running his hand over the inscription.

At Last . He coughed suddenly as he finally gave in to the tears that were clogging his throat.

Sitting down on the couch, he put his face in his hand, the other hand still clutching her bracelet.

His shoulders shook gently as he admitted to himself what he had lost.

Somewhere inside him, he still hated her for what she had done.

But more than anything at the moment, he just wanted to forget everything that had happened.

He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her until the ache in his chest subsided and he felt human again.

And then he wanted her to make him remember what it was like to love her. He rubbed his eyes as he thought of the way she had put her life on hold when he was sick to take care of him.

And the way she had kidnapped him and taken him away when work was making him crazy.

And the way she was with his mom and his brother and his friends.

He thought about how she fit into his life – into his crazy life.

She had rarely complained – not nearly as much as he had.

He thought of the way she had said she would marry him and be with him forever.

Feeling like his chest was going to cave in, he scrambled off the couch and crawled over to his bag, digging through it and looking for his cell phone.

He had her number halfway dialed before he stopped himself. On the floor, his back against the couch, he reminded himself why he had chosen to end it.

Yes, she had done all those things and she was all those things.

But she had decided to throw all that away for Jeremy.

She had been the one to turn her back on what they had.

He tortured himself with the image of Jeremy’s hand on her face, pulling her closer to kiss her gently.

His eyes closed, another tear rolled down his cheek, and he wiped it away.

She had danced with Jeremy.

She had been in his arms, had been pulled close to his body.

She had looked up at him and had evidently seen something that she was missing with Clay.

Laying his head back on the couch cushion, he stared at the ceiling of the bus and told himself that he hadn’t been enough.

It wasn’t meant to be or they’d still be together.

He had been wrong.

As he lifted his head, he looked down at the bracelet still in his hand.

He ran his finger over it slowly and he would have sworn that his heart trembled inside his chest.

He knew he had been wrong, but it didn’t help much when a part of him still wanted to be right. Amanda walked down the hall, grumpy as she rubbed her eyes.

She’d tried to ignore the knocking at her door, but it had persisted until she had shoved the covers back and gotten out of bed.

Glancing at the clock on top of her entertainment center, she was shocked to see that it was ten o’clock.

The darkness of the room let her know it was ten at night and she had slept for almost twelve hours.

Checking the window, she sighed when she saw Jeremy on her doorstep.

Not exactly the person she was dying to talk to.

She opened the door anyway, trying to act semi-normal. "Hi.". Jeremy frowned.

"What happened?" Amanda looked up at him, prepared to make some kind of excuse.

But the look in his eyes that she perceived to be concern managed to make its way past her defenses and she felt her eyes fill with tears.

He pushed the door the rest of the way open and closed it behind him, pulling her against him and hugging her.

She didn’t stay in his arms very long, pushing him away gently.

"I’m sorry," she said, softly.

"Kind of had a rough few days." "I can see that." When she hadn’t been in class again that day, he had called.

When she hadn't answered, he called Janice and asked casually if she had heard from Amanda.

When the other woman said that Amanda had called her and told her she wouldn’t be in class because she was going to be out of town, he’d gotten curious.

The only reason she usually left town was to see Clay.

And considering what he knew of their recent troubles, he figured the visit would end in one of two ways – either they would break up or she’d realize what he had done and they would be even more in love.

As glad as he was that it was evidently the former outcome, her dark blue eyes and forlorn expression caused him a momentary pang of guilt.

It passed as he realized that she was now fair game and that she still didn’t know Clay thought the two of them had slept together.

Reining in the surge of excitement at the knowledge that she would soon be his, he put his hands in his pockets and shot her a compassionate smile.

"You want to talk about it?" Amanda glanced at him, thinking he was the last person she should talk to.

She reminded herself it wasn’t his fault that Clay thought she was unfaithful, but he was still a very real reminder of what had happened.

"Not really," she said finally.

Holding her head up, she attempted to compose herself.

"We broke up," she said flatly, hoping he didn’t ask for any details. Jeremy feigned a disappointed sigh and shook his head.

"I’m so sorry, Amanda." She nodded and looked away from him again.

He noticed that she started blinking rapidly and wiped her face quickly.

"You want me to leave you alone?

Or do you need someone here?" She smiled softly.

"Thanks for the offer, but I’d really rather be alone." He nodded.

"I understand." He reached out and touched her arm lightly.

"Is it okay if I give you a hug?" he asked, trying to look shy. She nodded and hugged him briefly.

Had it not been just after she had woken up and while she was still very distracted and lost in her own thoughts, Amanda might have noticed that his hands swept over her lower back gently and his lips brushed against her hair.

As it was, she stepped back and smiled at him before he turned and left.

Once he was in his car, Jeremy watched her window for a moment, wondering how long it was going to be before she gave in and sought real comfort in him - the kind that would make her forget all about Clay.

Chapter 14 Clay looked out the window of his hotel room in Winston-Salem, dreading the arrival of his mom and feeling guilty about dreading it.

It had been just over a week since Amanda and he had broken up, and he had managed to put off his mother’s phone calls with his insistence that he was too busy to talk.

He had no idea if his mom had gone to the trouble to call Amanda, but he hoped not.

In truth, he really had been too busy to talk.

He was doing an excellent job of finding things to occupy his time when he wasn’t on stage.

His manager, Ned, was ready to pull his hair out, as Clay was insisting on doing every interview that was requested just so he’d have something to do during the day.

If he could have scheduled commitments all through the night, he’d have done that, too. In a week, he had grown accustomed to the feeling of restlessness that was constantly with him.

For the most part, he was able to lose himself in the show each night.

There were times, however, usually during the acoustic set when everything was quieter, when he would catch himself scanning the audience, unconsciously looking for her.

He’d made the decision to push her away and end it, but that didn’t mean a part of him didn’t wish she would come back just to argue with him and tell him that she wasn’t leaving.

In his mind, he told himself that she knew what she had done and what she believed he had done and there was no reason for her to come back.

The only reason for her to come back would be that she still loved him.

That was the thought that kept him up at night, the thought that he continually debated.

She couldn’t love him and do what she did, he knew.

His conscience usually took that opportunity to remind him that he loved her and yet he’d deliberately tried to hurt her with everything he had said and done.

As he pushed away from the window, he told himself that he didn’t love her, he just missed her.

And he only missed her because he was used to her being there.

It was habit, nothing more. He sat down hard on the couch in his room, chewing on his thumbnail nervously.

He was terrified at the thought of telling his mother that he had screwed up the most important relationship in his life.

Because in truth, he blamed himself as much as he blamed Amanda.

If he hadn’t left on tour and if he hadn’t been so jealous – even though he knew he’d had a reason to be – maybe she wouldn’t have turned to Jeremy.

He knew that Amanda was an adult and had made the decision to cheat, but he still believed that Jeremy was a sleaze who had done everything in his power to seduce her.

The fact that it had worked made him angry with Amanda, but he truly hated Jeremy.

Everything in him wanted to hurt the other man – not with words like he had hurt Amanda.

He wanted to physically hurt Jeremy.

The rush of anger that shot through him was becoming all too familiar as he thought of the other man.

When Jerome walked into his room and he saw his mom following behind, he tried to push his anger aside.

He stood and hugged her, kissing her cheek and smiling. Faye wasted no time.

"What’s going on, Clayton?" He debated playing dumb and realized it wouldn’t work.

"I’m single again – alert the tabloids." Faye frowned.

"You think this is funny?" The joke had been a mistake, he knew.

He sighed and nodded at Jerome, indicating that he wanted to be alone with his mom.

After the other man left, he met his mom’s gaze.

"No, it’s not funny.

I’m sorry." She sat down in a chair across from him as he sat on the couch.

"Well, what did you do?" "Me?

What makes you think I did anything?" "That girl loved you more than I’ve seen any person love another person, and you drove her away!" Clay paused, confused.

"Have you talked to her, Mom?" Faye felt guilty for lying to him, even if she didn’t blatantly do so.

She shook her head, telling herself that she meant what she said – and would even if she hadn’t talked to Amanda.

"I know what I saw when the two of you were together." "Well, maybe you didn’t see everything," he said, standing.

His own mother was against him?

He reminded himself that Faye knew nothing about what had happened.

She didn’t know about Jeremy.

He turned his back to her, looking out the window again.

Pushing the sheer aside with his finger, he said softly, "She wasn’t the person I thought she was, Mom." Faye stared at her son’s back and tried to read him.

He was closed off from her – from everyone, according to Jerome.

He put up a good front for the public, but she knew him too well.

She knew when he was hurting, and the stiff set of his shoulders and the tone of his voice told her more than words ever could.

She stood and walked to the window, putting her hand on his back and rubbing it gently.

"What happened?" Clay continued to look out the window, his fingers pressed against the glass.

Faye waited for him to answer, her hand still moving over his back like she had done when he was little.

Clay had always resisted comforting when it came to himself.

He was there for other people, but when it came to himself he had always been the one to calmly tell her what was bothering him and ask for advice without betraying his emotions too deeply.

She watched his jaw working as he fought to compose himself and told herself to give him time;

She would wait until he was ready to talk.

Still not looking at her, he spoke.

"She found someone else." Before Faye could say anything, he continued.

"It’s funny because of all the people in my life, she’s the one person I never, ever thought would hurt me.

I figured I would hurt her, but not the other way around.

I always felt like I couldn’t love her enough, but I never doubted how she felt about me.

I was amazed that I had actually been lucky enough to find her and that she loved me for some reason." His voice had been so soft and filled with wonder on the word "lucky" that Faye felt her throat close.

He was quiet for a moment.

"I guess I wasn’t so lucky, after all." Faye listened to him breathe, wondering how to comfort him but also wondering how this had happened.

The Amanda who had called her from the airport, terrified at the prospect of losing him, was not the same Amanda who Clay thought had cheated on him – it couldn’t be.

"I don’t think it has anything to do with luck, Clayton," she said softly. He laughed without humor.

"True. It has to do with the fact that I wasn’t enough.

She wanted someone else." He paused.

" Wants someone else," he corrected, wincing.

Talking about it was much harder than keeping it to himself.

When no one was talking about her, he could convince himself that things would work out, that he would start to feel normal again.

He turned to his mom, finally meeting her gaze.

"I really don’t want to talk about it, Mom.

It’s over and I can’t change anything.

I’d really rather just concentrate on getting through this tour and then getting on with my life." Faye nodded, biting her tongue to keep from telling him that yes, he could change something.

There were two people desperately in love with one another, now on opposite coasts trying to hate each other – if Clay were any indication.

In her gut, she still believed that they were supposed to be together – no matter what had happened in the last few weeks.

Watching her son’s jaw tighten and seeing the determined look in his eyes as he composed himself, however, she knew talking to him would be of no help.

As he changed the subject and starting talking about the few things he wanted to do while he was home, she was telling herself it wouldn’t be betraying her son to speak to his ex-girlfriend without telling him about it. Amanda rolled the sleeves up on her t-shirt, the sun hotter than she had expected.

She was in the process of trying to plant a flower garden in her tiny front yard – something her mom had told her might distract her and would "soothe" her nerves.

Covered in dirt to her elbows and sweat dripping into her eyes, she didn’t feel very soothed.

The fact that – against her better judgment – she was keeping up with Clay’s schedule and knew he would be flying home today also wasn’t helping matters very much.

She knew he had been in North Carolina for the Winston-Salem show – the show she was supposed to have flown out for – and she knew he had almost a week off before he had to be in Texas.

Knowing that he was going to be less than two miles from her for several days had managed to disrupt what little sleep she was getting. Standing, she looked down at what she had done and sighed.

She’d spent two hours out there and the flowers would probably die, anyway.

Walking inside, it took her eyes a moment to adjust to the dimmer light in her apartment.

She kicked her dirty shoes off by the door and tried not to touch anything as she made her way down the hall to the bathroom.

She noticed her answering machine light was blinking again and groaned.

Everyone in her life seemed to think she needed to be constantly checked on. As she turned on the shower and got inside, she let her mind wander.

She always seemed to do that.

She managed to keep herself fairly occupied during the day.

But when she had a moment of peace – when she was in the shower and sometimes when she was cooking, her mind would fixate on Clay.

The truth was, she did need people to check on her.

And she did need someone there, despite what she had told her mom and all her friends who had offered to fly out and stay with her.

I need someone, but he doesn’t want to be here , she thought sadly.

Shaking her head, she refused to cry. By the third or fourth day after she had flown home from Long Island, her eyes were swollen and she had lost six pounds because she hadn’t eaten more than a bowl a cereal when she managed to remember to eat at all.

When she had caught herself becoming teary-eyed when the TV guide came and she saw that a movie she had watched with Clay was going to be on, she decided she had to get a hold of herself.

She’d promised herself then that she wouldn’t cry over him again, and she hadn’t.

She’d wanted to, yes, but she hadn’t cried.

In fact, she preferred anger to sadness.

When she recounted their last argument in her mind, there were a million things she wished she had said to him.

More than anything, she wished that she had been more stubborn.

She wished that she had refused to let him break up with her.

She wished that she had tried harder to save what they had.

As she reached for her conditioner, she reminded herself like she always did that it wouldn’t have mattered.

Even if she had managed to make him believe that she hadn’t cheated on him, he didn’t want her anymore.

He had someone else.

With a pang, she also reminded herself that she had been nothing more than a good time for him – he’d said so himself. As much as her mind told her that she had to move on and that there was no sense in loving someone who had never loved her, her heart had a pesky way of making her remember.

Most often, she thought about when they had been in New York for "Saturday Night Live." She couldn’t quite convince herself that the man who had proposed – informally , she reminded herself with a small smile – without a ring and without any fanfare, with only himself, was the same man who said he had never loved her.

As she rinsed her hair and reached for her body wash, she came to the same conclusion she always came to – he had loved her, but not as deeply as she had believed.

He enjoyed her company and he was attracted to her – of that, she was sure.

She had believed him when he said forever, and she had been wrong. When she stepped out of the shower a few minutes later, Amanda wrapped a towel around herself and walked back to the guest bedroom.

She’d practically moved all of her things across the hall because she still couldn’t sleep in her own bed.

She knew it was irrational, but she could almost convince herself that the pillow on his side still smelled like him.

After she was dressed, she walked back into the living room and glared at the answering machine for a moment before sitting down and pushing the button.

Two messages from her mom, asking her to call and trying to ask if she was better without coming out and saying it.

One from Stacia, who threatened to get on a plane and fly out there the next time she saw Amanda’s name logged in to any fan board.

She made a mental note to start coming in anonymously.

If she stopped checking up on him, she might really and truly lose it.

The last message was from Jeremy and she leaned back in her chair, sighing.

He said he was coming over with lunch and a check of her watch told her that it was too late to tell him not to bother. Pulling at a loose string on her shorts, she fought the nervousness that always came when she thought about Jeremy.

Looking down, she realized what she was doing and sighed irritably at the habit she had picked up from Clay.

She stopped pulling at the string, but her nervousness didn’t dissipate.

In truth, he’d been there for her a lot in the last week and a half.

He’d made excuses for her in class when she just couldn’t make herself go and he’d forced her to get out of her apartment when she started to become a hermit.

But, she still had an uneasy feeling about him – probably due to the fact that if he hadn’t shown up in her life, Clay and she would still be together.

No , she told herself, Rebecca would still exist even if Jeremy didn’t and if it hadn’t been Jeremy, it would have been someone else .

She had noticed that he was being a little more affectionate with her lately and she wondered if he had a crush on her.

She had suspected he was mildly interested in her from the beginning, but as long as she was with Clay, he had kept his feelings to himself.

Several times in the last few days, she had caught him staring at her.

He had looked away sheepishly when she’d caught him, but he hadn’t said anything.

She was wondering if she were just imagining things when she saw him through the window and then heard him knock.

Answering the door, she smiled. "You really have to stop bringing me food," Amanda said, letting him inside. "I will as soon as you start coming to class on a regular basis and when I’m sure that you’re eating on your own," Jeremy said as he sat down the bags of Chinese takeout he had brought with him.

She watched him pull out plates and silverware – she had yet to master chopsticks, much to his chagrin – and realized that he had become rather comfortable in her apartment in a very short time. "I’m not an invalid, you know," she said, sitting down at the table to eat after he sat down their plates. "No, you’re not an invalid.

But if I let you, you’d never leave this apartment and you’d live on cereal and Pop Tarts." She laughed.

"And that’s a bad thing?" He nodded, chewing.

He swallowed and smiled.

"Yep." He let her eat in silence for a moment before he spoke up.

"Just couldn’t make it today?" She stared at her plate and nodded.

"I promise I’ll be there on Wednesday." She still had a three-days-a-week schedule, even after she had started classes full time.

Her professors had been more than accommodating, considering the fact that the timing for her semester to start couldn’t have been worse – the day of the Raleigh show.

She’d been to class a total of four times since the semester had begun and if it weren’t for Jeremy and Janice, she’d be so far behind that she would never catch up.

She glanced at him.

"Why aren't you in class?

It's the middle of the day." He laughed.

"Settle down. It’s Monday – I don’t have class after noon on Monday." She smiled and he watched her eat, noticing that her hair was still wet at the tips.

It was down and a piece of it had curled against her throat, catching his attention.

She looked like she had gotten some sun on her arms and he was dying to see the rest of her.

Since Clay and she had broken up, Jeremy had been learning a valuable lesson in patience.

He could tell she was warming to him, but it was a slow process.

She must have cared for Clay more than he originally thought or else he just hadn’t been able to show her what he had to offer.

Smiling to himself, he wondered how he could really show her what he had to offer without it being obvious that he wanted to sleep with her.

As she stood and carried her plate into the kitchen, he watched the sway of her hips.

She was certainly making him work for it.

He’d never spent this much time and effort trying to seduce one woman, but he reminded himself that it would be worth it when she finally did give in to him.

Later, while he was sitting beside her on the couch as she watched TV, he casually draped his arm on the back of the couch, his fingers barely brushing against her shoulder.

She didn’t move, so he left his hand there. Amanda was staring at the TV, but her mind was elsewhere.

She was preoccupied with the fact that Clay was probably home by now – not far from her.

She wondered if he was thinking about her as much as she was thinking about him.

She wondered if he was missing her as much as she was missing him. Clay dropped his massive bag of laundry in the front hall, tossing his keys on a nearby table.

Normally, he would be thrilled to be home, to be around familiar things.

But at the moment, he wasn’t thinking about being home.

He was thinking about the woman who was less than two miles from him and he was wondering what she was doing.

As he moved through the house, listening to Raleigh re-inspect everything to make sure it was how she had left it, he wondered if Amanda was thinking about him, if she even knew he was back in L.A.

He went upstairs to his bedroom and averted his gaze from the bed as he changed clothes.

As much as he wanted to sleep in his own bed, he knew it was a bad idea.

The guest bedroom would have to work.

When he came downstairs a few minutes later, hating how quiet the house was, he decided he had to get out for a while.

There were a few things he needed to do since he was home and he might as well get started on them.

He glanced at the bowl on the kitchen counter where he usually put the mail and realized that he’d had the post office hold all his mail.

Amanda had offered to get it for him before he left for the tour, but he hadn’t wanted to bother her with it.

He was even gladder now that he’d let the post office keep it for him.

The last thing he needed at the moment was to see her. Jeremy moved his hand a bit lower on Amanda’s shoulder, seeing how much she would let him get away with.

She still didn’t move, so he scooted closer to her.

That got a reaction from her as she looked over at him suddenly.

"Jeremy?" He considered making his move and using his hands and his mouth to convince her that it was time for her to forget about Clay and see what it was like to be with a real man.

His mind wandered, picturing just how it would be to make her forget.

Her accent nearly drove him out of his mind, and the way he imagined it would sound breathed against his ear in the heat of passion was enough to make him squirm.

At the moment, the tone of her voice and the slight flare of irritation in her eyes, however, made him hesitate long enough for her to scoot away from him. Amanda was thankful for everything Jeremy had done for her in the last week and a half, and she understood if he had a crush on her – but she was in no mood for his advances.

The only thing on her mind was trying to get over Clay and she didn’t want to do that with the guy who was indirectly the cause of their break-up.

And she was a little upset with him that he would even think she would want his attention at this point.

She leveled her gaze on him.

"Maybe you should go home," she said, her voice even.

"I think I need to be alone tonight." Jeremy bit his tongue to keep from arguing with her.

What she needed was a few hours in bed with him.

He glanced around her living room and smiled to himself – who cared about the bed, he’d take her rolling around on the floor anytime.

She cleared her throat, interrupting his very delightful daydream, and he glanced at her.

"If that’s what you really want," he said, smiling.

"I’ll leave you alone.

But you have to promise me you’ll eat some dinner later." She laughed despite herself.

"I promise." She stood and walked him to the door, opening it for him.

"Thanks for coming over – and thanks for lunch." He nodded.

"No problem." He looked down at her and fought the urge to kiss her, wanting to pin her body against the door with his.

Knowing she would just push him away, he told himself to bide his time and then make it worth the wait.

When she did finally give in to him, she was going to wish she’d done so long before.

He intended to make sure of that.

"You call if you need anything, okay?" The role of concerned friend was starting to wear on his nerves, but he knew he had to keep it up for a while longer. "I will.

Drive safe," Amanda said, urging him out the door and closing it.

Once he was gone, she leaned against the door and sighed.

The last thing she needed was to have to fight him off while she was still sorting out her feelings and trying to convince herself that her world had not just fallen apart.

Pushing away from the door, she walked back into the living room and tried to busy herself with some of the homework she had to do. Clay had called the post office before he left to let them know he was coming, and they had told him to come to the back door where they would let him in and he could then sign for his mail.

Jerome would be furious if he knew that Clay had gone alone, but Jerome would just have to be furious.

As Clay shut the door of his car and locked it, he adjusted his cap, hoping no one noticed him.

He didn’t have to wait long before the back door was opened and an employee – who introduced himself as Cliff – smiled and told him to come inside, that they had his mail ready.

There was a stack of envelopes wrapped in a rubber band lying on the desk Cliff was approaching and he assumed those were for him.

He was right, and he flipped through them while Cliff searched for the form Clay had to sign.

After he had signed his name, he started to go when another man turned the corner carrying two large boxes.

He glanced at the man briefly and then paused when the man addressed Cliff. "You were about to let him leave without all of his mail," the man said. Cliff turned to him and apologized profusely.

"I’m so sorry, Mr.

Aiken. These were in the back and I just plain forgot about them.

I’m really sorry." Clay smiled, shaking his head.

"No need to apologize." He started to take the packages.

"I can’t imagine what I would get that would be this big – I sure don’t remember ordering anything." He glanced at the address label and felt his arms start to give out.

Amanda had sent them?

He looked up at the postal workers and tried to smile normally.

"Thank you. Do I go out the same way I came in?" They nodded and walked him out, holding the door for him.

Clay managed to wait until he was home and had carried the boxes inside before he tried to open them.

He sat them on the floor, his stomach in knots, before he went to find a pair of scissors.

Sitting on the floor beside the boxes, he stared at them for a moment before he slit the tape and opened one, looking inside. Her attention focused on the paragraph she was reading, Amanda jumped in shock when the phone rang beside her.

She stared at it for a moment, considering not answering.

She didn’t want to deal with anyone right now.

Her curiosity got the best of her, however, and she picked up the receiver and tried to sound upbeat. "Hello?" "Amanda!

So glad I caught you," Kristy said, talking a mile a minute.

Before Amanda could get a word in edgewise, the other woman was going on and on about the Night of Champions benefit dinner that Amanda was helping to organize.

Had she called the hotel and confirmed the banquet hall?

Had the caterer called her back with a finalized menu?

Did she order the right place settings?

Amanda tried to answer each question without betraying how difficult it was for her to even be involved with the foundation anymore. Kristy was silent for a brief moment and Amanda heard her rifling through papers.

"Oh! Did you manage to locate the hat that Clay wanted to auction?

The Dr. Seuss hat?" Amanda’s stomach flip-flopped.

She hadn’t had time to go to his house before she had left for New York, and naturally, she hadn’t been there since then.

"No, I haven’t had time to get it," she said honestly.

As far as she knew, Kristy had no idea that Clay and she were no longer a couple.

And she certainly didn’t want to be the one to tell her.

Hoping to get out of finding the hat and avoid an explanation, she said, "Why don’t you call him and ask him to mail it to you?" She laughed.

"Just ask him when you see him.

Has his flight not landed yet?

He was flying home from Winston-Salem today.

How was the show, by the way?" "Wonderful," Amanda said flatly, closing her eyes.

How was she supposed to explain to Kristy that she wouldn’t be seeing him without the other woman figuring out what was going on?

Trying to keep her voice from wavering as she lied, she forced a laugh.

"I’m afraid I might forget to ask him while he’s home – why don’t you just go ahead and do it?

Catch him before I see him." The other woman returned her laugh.

"I see how it is – he won’t be thinking about the auction or anything else once his plane lands and he has some time off with you.

I’ll try to give him a call tonight.

What time will you see him so I can call before then?" "He should be home by now," she said, her voice tight.

"He had a few things to do before he was going to come over." "All right.

Thanks, Amanda. And be sure to let me know when you talk to the caterer again.

Oh – I meant to ask: I’m booking the hotel rooms in Kansas City this evening – should I get a suite for the two of you?" Amanda didn’t know how much longer she was going to be able to hold it together.

"Go ahead and get a suite," she said, her eyes closed tightly.

It didn’t really matter – he could stay in the suite by himself.

Or Rebecca can stay with him . "Okay, thanks again!" Kristy said cheerfully, hanging up.

Amanda hung up the phone and pushed her homework aside.

Slipping on her shoes quickly, she grabbed her keys and locked the door behind her.

He hadn’t even been home for a full day and she already felt like his presence was suffocating her.

Having to pretend that they were still together only reminded her how horribly their relationship had ended.

She had to get away from her apartment before she gave in and called him and begged him to listen to her, to take her back.

I do need a few groceries , she reasoned.

She took the longer route to the store to avoid passing his house – not wanting to know for sure if he was home yet. Clay pushed the box away from him only moments after he had looked inside.

He stood and left the living room quickly, wishing he hadn’t opened the box.

He had spotted several of his shirts and a few gifts he had given her before he had pushed it away.

As he paced in the kitchen, he ran a hand through the side of his hair.

He’d looked at the postmark.

She had mailed them the day after they broke up.

That meant she had to have flown home and immediately gone through her apartment, ridding it of every single thing that was remotely tied to him.

He’d seen two or three picture frames nestled down in the box he had opened and he put a hand to his stomach as it churned.

She didn’t want any memory of him.

She didn’t even want some of her own things simply because they were infected by him – judging by the afghan he had seen.

It had been draped over the back of her couch and he knew of numerous times that he had pulled it over them when they were cuddled together watching TV or after they had made love and were too lazy to get up and go to bed. Going back into the living room hesitantly, he figured he might as well open the other box.

Had she kept anything ?

Holding his breath, he slit the tape on the other box and looked inside.

More of his clothes, more gifts he had given her, a few of the things he kept at her apartment because he stayed there so often.

He pulled out a Duke sweatshirt he had given her as a joke, his throat closing.

She’d never worn it that he knew of, but when he held it to his nose, it smelled like her from where it had been in her closet.

Running his hand over the soft cotton, he wondered if she was finding it as easy to push him out of her heart and out of her mind as it had been to pack those boxes. Amanda was trying to decide if she really wanted the bag of apples she had just put in her shopping cart.

She’d end up throwing away most of them and they made her think of Clay – how he would sit down with a knife, an apple, and a jar of peanut butter.

He had always reminded her of a little boy when he did that because he invariably forgot to get anything to drink and then whined for her to bring him a glass of milk.

Pulling the bag out of her cart, she put it back on the table and pushed her cart away, irritated with herself that she couldn’t even buy groceries without missing him.

As she turned the corner in the frozen food section a few minutes later, promising herself she would not buy ice cream, she didn’t notice that a pair of eyes turned her way.

Chapter 15 John had just put a gallon of vanilla ice cream in the cart when he looked up and saw Amanda turn the corner.

She hadn’t seen him.

Or if she had, she hadn’t acknowledged him.

He had run in the grocery store quickly, knowing that Clay wouldn’t have a bite of food in the house and couldn’t go get any himself.

Also, Clay had been such a grouch lately that John hoped a night of quiet would help him.

Maybe he would actually try to deal with the break-up instead of ignoring it.

As Amanda pushed her cart down the aisle, not looking at him, he debated saying something to her.

He liked Amanda – he had from the first time he met her - but she had hurt his friend.

His loyalty to Clay, however, didn't make him blind to how withdrawn she looked.

He recognized her expression – it was the same one he’d seen on Clay’s face for the past few weeks.

When she stopped just in front of his cart and opened one of the freezer doors, he decided to risk it. “Hello there,” he said, not smiling.

He wasn't as friendly as he could have been, but he wasn't as rude as he could have been, either. Amanda jumped at the sound of a man's voice and then felt her heart sink when her eyes met John's.

Clay hand't been the only person she lost.

She had also lost the friends she had made through him - including John.

Great. Maybe he’ll yell at me in the middle of the frozen food section and my night will officially be complete .

She glanced in his cart and immediately knew that he wasn’t buying for himself.

Clay was home. “Hi,” she said softly, hoping he would just let her go past him without comment. John had initiated the conversation, but now he didn’t know what to say.

How are you? seemed a bit out of place, and he realized he didn’t really want to talk to her. Amanda could tell that he was at a loss for words.

Why did you start talking to me then?

Straightening her shoulders, she told herself she wouldn’t be the cowering ex-girlfriend who couldn’t be civil to Clay’s friends.

“How is he?” she asked, praying she could handle his answer. His eyes widened.

She had guts, he’d give her that.

He considered lying to hurt her, but he knew, deep down, that he couldn’t.

He’d seen the two of them together.

He’d grown to care for her.

He couldn’t deliberately hurt her.

“How do you think he’s doing?” Amanda looked away and shrugged, swallowing.

“It was his decision,” she said finally. John waited until she looked at him again.

“I don’t think he had much of a choice.

You didn’t give him one.

He was really angry with you.” She stared at him in silence, her hands rubbing back and forth over the handle of the cart.

“I’m angry with him, too,” she said finally.

John started to speak and she interrupted.

“But just because you’re angry with someone doesn’t mean you stop loving them.

And it doesn’t mean you give up on them.” She paused while he continued to look at her and then pushed her cart gently.

“Goodnight, John.” He turned to watch her go, resisting the urge to go after her and ask her exactly what she meant.

How could she still love Clay and do what she did?

Did she really expect Clay to forget the fact that she had cheated and still want to be with her?

Shaking his head, he pushed his cart out of the aisle and wondered if he should even mention that he had seen her.

He finished his shopping, still without an answer. Amanda closed the door of her refrigerator and turned to stare at the food on her counter.

She’d been hungry when she had picked up the chicken breasts and rice, but that was before she had seen John and before she knew that Clay was home.

Looking at it now, the thought of actually cooking it overwhelmed her.

Telling herself she would eat a good meal the next day, she put the food away and pulled a box of cereal out of the cabinet.

A few minutes later, she was sitting cross-legged on the couch, a box of cereal and a carton of milk next to her.

Knowing it was a bad idea, she had put in a tape of various appearances Clay had made.

She had taped them all for him so he could watch them later with her.

She tried to steel herself before his face filled the screen, but nothing could have prepared her.

Seeing him, watching him on a television screen, only reminded her that that’s the only way she would ever see him again. Two hours later, her knees pulled to her chest as she huddled in the corner of the couch, she wished she had listened to her head instead of her heart.

She wished she hadn't watched the tape.

She also wished she hadn’t packed up her afghan with his things – wanting to wrap it around herself and pretend everything was the way it should be.

She could pretend he was in the other room and was about to join her on the couch.

In an instant, she could practically feel the reassuring weight of his arm across her shoulders, his fingers brushing over her upper arm. Amanda's gaze fell on the phone and she reminded herself that he didn’t want to talk to her.

And if he doesn’t want to talk to me, he certainly doesn’t want to see me , she thought as she looked at her car keys on the coffee table.

Laying her head on her knees, she stared out her window and wondered how on earth they were going to manage living so close to one another. Refusing to let herself dwell on him until she made herself really and truly depressed, Amanda got off the couch and put away her dishes before turning off the lights in the living room and pulling one of her grandmother's quilts off the top shelf in her bedroom closet.

She dragged it into the living room and switched on the small lamp on her end table – suddenly not wanting to be completely in the dark.

A glance at the clock told her it was barely eight o’clock.

Telling herself she was becoming pathetic, she turned on her side on the couch and attempted to go to sleep. Clay had just shut the door of the closet in the guest bedroom, the boxes Amanda had sent carefully stacked inside, when he heard his front door open, and John’s voice called his name. “Be right down!” he yelled, switching off the light in the bedroom.

He came downstairs, his feet smacking against the wood floor, and helped John carry the groceries to the kitchen.

They were putting them away silently when he noticed that his friend kept looking at him like he had something to say.

“What?” Clay asked finally, stopping and turning to face John. John stared at him for a moment, realizing that he was either going to have to tell Clay that he had seen Amanda or he was going to have to think of something to tell him to explain why he kept looking at him.

Setting a gallon of milk in the refrigerator, he tried to stall.

“They didn’t have any Cinnamon Toast Crunch, so I got you Cheerios.

I think you have sugar in the cabinet.” Clay threw the plastic bag away that he had just emptied.

“Is that why you were looking at me nervously – because you didn’t get the cereal I wanted?” John laughed stiffly.

“Would you believe me if I said yes?” Clay had just been mildly curious before.

Now he knew something was up.

“I don’t think I should.

What’s going on?” John looked away and sighed before he met his gaze.

“Okay, but I’m just telling you because you already know something is up.

If I could have come up with a better excuse, you never would have known.” Clay waited, gesturing for him to continue.

He took a deep breath and decided to just say it.

“I saw Amanda at the grocery store.” Clay stepped back, feeling like the breath had been knocked out of him.

He knew she was in town, he knew she was nearby, but hearing about her made the hollow feeling in his chest ache even more.

He wanted to ask how she was, but he didn’t know if he really wanted to know.

He cleared his throat.

“And?” “She asked how you were,” John said flatly, watching Clay’s reaction.

Clay looked away, his jaw working furiously as he fought to control his emotions.

Why would she care how he was?

Maybe she wanted to hear that he was doing horribly, that he was lost without her, that he couldn’t stop thinking about her for one second and was beginning to hate himself for letting her go instead of fighting for her.

Realizing his thoughts were running away from him, he looked back at John. “What did you say?” His friend shrugged.

“I didn’t really answer her.

We didn’t talk much.” He had no intention of telling Clay what she had said.

Clay was struggling to get through every day – letting him believe that she might still care for him would only make it harder for him to move on with his life. “How did she…” Clay coughed and looked away, shifting his weight to his other foot.

“How did she look?” John didn’t know how to answer.

If he told him that she looked awful, Clay might interpret that as her missing him.

If he told him that she looked great, it would only hurt him worse that she was fine while he wasn’t.

He decided to be vague.

“She looked normal, I guess.” Normal for a woman who hadn’t slept or eaten in days . Clay nodded.

“Was she alone?” “Yes.” “What was she buying?

Enough food for two people?” Wondering if Jeremy was living with her had become an obsession. John shook his head.

“I didn’t notice.” Clay smacked his hand on the counter lightly, wanting a noise in the room besides his own breathing.

He had an overwhelming need to be alone, to get John out of the house.

Between the boxes and hearing about her and knowing she was so close to him but wasn’t his anymore, his defenses were down.

If John stayed much longer, he was going to end up begging his friend to tell him every tiny detail of how she had looked and how she had acted and how she seemed to feel about him.

The desire to avoid that in mind, he quickly thanked John for the groceries and ushered him out the door, saying he was tired and thought he would go to bed early. After he had opened and shut every cabinet twice and realized that he wasn’t even looking at the contents, Clay gave up on trying to find something to eat.

He didn’t want to eat.

He wanted to see Amanda.

Telling himself he had no reason to want to see her, that they were over, he went into the living room and sat down on the couch, covering his face with his hands and sighing loudly.

He felt two tiny paws scratching his bare leg and lowered his hands to see Raleigh looking at him expectantly.

Smiling softly, he pulled her up and onto his lap, running his hand over her head and down her back. “Are you glad to be home?” he asked.

She wagged her tail, and he laughed.

“You probably need to be walked, don’t you?” She wagged her tail again.

A few minutes later, a baseball cap pulled low over his face, Clay stepped outside and locked the door behind him, pulling on Raleigh’s leash to keep her from darting forward in her usual lively sprint.

He wasn’t much in the mood for a lively sprint, but he hoped the night air and her exuberant energy would rub off on him.

As the dog nosed around the yard instead of walking down the driveway like he wanted her to do, Clay breathed in deeply, enjoying being back in L.A.

As much as he missed Raleigh, there was something nice about being able to wear shorts, a t-shirt, and flip-flops in March. A while later, realizing he had hadn’t brought anything to clean up after Raleigh, he walked back to the house and ran inside to get something.

On his way back out, he happened to glance in the living room, and his eyes landed on the sweatshirt he had taken out of the box earlier.

The Duke sweatshirt he had given Amanda.

The one that smelled like her.

He had forgotten to put it back in the box before he carried them upstairs and now he was staring at it.

He walked over and ran his finger over the letters before he picked it up and pulled it over his head.

Knowing she would never wear it, he had bought one big enough for him.

As he pulled the neck over his mouth and inhaled, his eyes closed.

I have to see her . Picking up his keys off the table, he rushed outside and climbed into his car, Raleigh tucked under his arm.

As he pulled into a parking spot a few feet away from her apartment, he sat Raleigh on the floor of the passenger seat and lay his arms on the steering wheel, staring at the dim light shining in her front window.

Raleigh was whimpering, realizing that the car had stopped and she was still inside.

He ignored the dog, his heart pounding in his ears.

If he actually worked up the nerve to get out of the car and go to her door, would she even open it?

And if she opened it, would she slam the door as soon as she saw him?

He looked at the other cars in the parking lot and wondered if Jeremy was there.

He shifted his gaze back to her window, willing her to walk by it. Amanda woke up with a start, not sure what had woken her.

Just as she sat up, pushing her quilt off the couch, her phone rang and she scrambled to answer it, her heart pounding.

She’d been doing that lately – waking up in a panic.

She wondered if she was having nightmares and was thankful she didn’t remember any of them.

Answering her phone, she cleared her throat.

“Hello?” “You didn’t call me!” her mom said, her voice concerned. Amanda sighed and stretched as she answered her mom.

“I’m sorry. Jeremy was here after I got your message and then I was out.

When I came home, I laid down on the couch and fell asleep.

I forgot to call you back.” “Jeremy was there?

Do you think that’s a good idea, Amanda?” “Not you, too!" she said, groaning.

"Nothing is going on, Mom.

Besides, what does it hurt for him to be around?

Clay has already made up his mind what he believes.

He’s not going to be calling and checking up on me anymore.

And,” she said, a little distracted as she walked to the window and looked out, “he reminds me of Clay.” Clay had just looked down at Raleigh as she barked sharply when he saw something move out of the corner of his eye.

Lifting his gaze, he glanced at Amanda’s window.

His breath caught his in his throat, and he automatically leaned forward as if to get out of the car when he saw her move past the window.

Swallowing audibly, he waited and she passed by the window again, this time with the phone against her ear.

He could barely make out her face from across the darkened parking lot, and the low light in her apartment made it even more difficult to see.

But he knew the shape of her as surely as he knew his own name. When she paused in front of the window, he instinctively slid down in the seat, the thought registering that he was now hiding from the last person he ever thought he’d hide anything from.

What he thought had been an honest, trusting relationship was now secret glances across a parking lot.

She left the window again, and he sat up cautiously, realizing how incredibly sad and pathetic he was.

He couldn’t have the woman, so he sat in his car and pined for a shadowy silhouette of her.

Nevertheless, he continued to wait, hoping that she would come to the window again.

Distractedly, he wondered if it was Jeremy on the phone.

His mind chose that moment to replay some of their conversations from when he was away.

He had jokingly told her once that if anyone ever listened in on one of their conversations, the person would think they had hacked into a 1-900 number.

Jealousy washed over him anew at the thought of Jeremy being on the receiving end of her voice, her mind, her body - of her .

Telling himself he was being irrational, he resisted the urge to get out of the car, knock on her door, and prove to her that he was man enough for her, that he was enough for her. “Then it’s definitely not a good idea!” her mom exclaimed.

“You need to be trying to get over Clay, not surrounding yourself with men who remind you of him.” Amanda played with the drapes idly before she sighed and walked away from the window, sitting down on the couch.

“What if I don’t want to get over him?” she asked. “Oh, that would be good.

Spend the rest of your life alone because one relationship didn’t work.” She fought down a surge of irritation.

What did her mom know?

She had no idea what it felt like to lose someone like Clay.

“First, I didn’t say I was never going to get over him.

Secondly, don’t talk about it like it was some insignificant relationship." Her voice was tinged with anger.

“I thought I was going to be with him forever, Mom.

You know that!” “Yes, I know that.

But I also know you.

If we let you, you’ll never go out with anyone else and you’ll wallow in your own misery.” Amanda leaned her head back on the couch and swallowed, knowing her mom was right on some level.

It was much easier to feel sorry for herself than it was to try to move on.

“So what am I supposed to do?” she asked, her voice tight with emotion.

“Pretend it doesn’t feel like I just screwed up the best thing I ever had?” “You didn’t screw anything up, Amanda.

Clay made the decision not to believe you, and he is the one who ended things.

Don’t you dare blame yourself.” She smacked the couch, angry with her mom and angry with herself.

“But I do blame myself!

If I had just stopped hanging out with Jeremy, Clay wouldn’t have thought we were together and he and I would still be together!” Amanda laughed bitterly to herself.

With all the other drama in her life at the moment, her mom had taken it pretty well that her little girl had evidently been sleeping with Clay for him to believe that she had slept with someone else.

They hadn’t talked about it specifically, but she knew her mom wasn’t stupid. “I don’t care if Jeremy was your best friend – Clay had no right to assume that just because you’re friends with a man, you’re sleeping with him.

You said yourself that if it hadn’t been Jeremy, it would have been someone else.” Amanda tucked her leg beneath her.

“Why are you defending Jeremy all the sudden?

I thought you didn’t like him?” "I don’t know him.

I just think it might be best for you to have a clean slate – not be associated with anyone from this entire situation.” “Believe me, I’ve thought of that,” she said softly.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought of moving home.” Sonya was quiet for a moment.

“Why don’t you?” Amanda closed her eyes, swallowing tears.

“I can’t.” “Why?” “Because as much as it hurts to know that he’s here, I’d rather be where he is and be without him than be two thousand miles away,” she said, hating herself. Her mom sighed.

“What are you going to do, Amanda?

This isn’t healthy.” She stood, walking to the window again.

“I just need time, Mom.” “How much time?” Clay had leaned his head back on the seat, watching her window with heavy-lidded eyes.

He was once again telling himself that if she had wanted him – if she had loved him – she wouldn’t have turned to someone else.

He saw movement by her window and lifted his head, feeling his heart race.

If nothing else, his body still responded to the sight of her.

He would have sworn that she saw him as she stood there, but if she did, she didn’t acknowledge him before she left the window.

He waited, but a few minutes later the light in her living room went out and he found himself staring at a darkened apartment.

In his mind, he could see her moving down the hall and crawling into her bed.

She’d probably bypass the bathroom and sleep in her contacts, even though she always said she shouldn’t.

When he had slept at her place, they reminded each other to take out their contacts before they went to bed.

He smiled at the memory of them fighting over the mirror.

It usually ended with him picking her up and setting her aside so he could take his lenses out.

He would then wait for her to do the same before he snuggled up against her back.

Sometimes their eyes met in the mirror and she smiled at him, her hand sliding over his arm and brushing the top of hand.

Other times, he lowered his head and kissed her neck gently, his fingers tightening on the front of her shirt.

Either way, it was one of the moments that now haunted him.

Raleigh whined, causing him to look down at her and realize that Amanda had gone to bed several minutes before and he was still staring at her window.

He wondered how the excuse But I love her would fly with the LAPD if they caught him.

Not very well, he decided.

Starting his car, Clay left her parking lot against his heart’s insistence that he stay.

As long as he knew she was inside, he could be with her on some level.

Thinking how truly depressing that was, he sat Raleigh down as he went inside his house and locked the door behind him. His stomach growled at him as he walked up the stairs slowly, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten anything since lunch.

Not caring, he went into the guest bedroom and crawled in the bed without bothering to change his clothes.

As he lay there, he reminded himself why breaking up with her had been the right thing to do.

When his body twitched spasmodically before he fell asleep, he had almost convinced himself. “I don’t know,” Amanda whispered, answering her mom’s question.

“As much time as it takes to convince myself that I’m better off without him.” “And you think you can do that?” “Yes,” she lied.

Suddenly exhausted despite her nap, Amanda walked away from the window and tried to tell her mom goodnight.

“I think I’m going to head to bed.” “No, you won’t.

You’ll get online and see where he is.” She laughed dryly.

“I don’t have to get online to know where he is.

He’s about two miles from here.

In his house. Probably in his bed.” As she said the words, she wondered if he was in his bed alone or if Rebecca fit nicely on what had been her side of the bed. “He’s in L.A.?” “He has a few days off before the next show.” She switched off the light in the living room and walked down the hall, cradling the phone against her shoulder as she changed into pajamas quickly once she was in the bedroom.

“He’s going to be on AI on Wednesday.” “Really?

Why?” “Singing.” She tossed her clothes in the hamper, wanting to end the conversation.

“‘Solitaire.’” Her mom sucked in a breath.

“Wow. Are you going to watch?” “Now what do you think?” Amanda asked, turning back the comforter on the bed. “You shouldn’t, you know.” “There are a lot of things I shouldn’t do,” she said tightly.

“Getting involved with celebrities who were only looking for a good time should have been at the top of the list.” Despite her grief at losing him, she had found herself becoming angrier with him every day.

“I’m in the bed, Mom.

I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” “You’ll call me or you’ll wait for me to call you because you’re too busy moping?” “I’ll call you right after I go out and get drunk and find a random guy to hook up with – that should take care of my moping.

Hopefully he’ll have a phone at his place.

Do you think I should go for a singer or would that be too much like Clay?

Or should I just find the first pulse that's willing and able?” she asked, upset. “You’re tired and you’re getting crass.

Goodnight.” “Goodnight,” she said, hanging up angrily.

Setting the phone down on the nightstand with a little too much force, she rolled over onto her stomach and attempted to cool her temper.

A while later, after tossing and turning until she had nearly torn all the sheets off the bed, Amanda got up and walked across the hall to her own room.

Ignoring the pang of sadness that gripped her, she climbed into her bed and told herself that it certainly did not smell like him and even if it did, she could sleep there and not think about him.

As she fell asleep, she admitted that it really didn’t smell like him.

But she was thinking of him anyway. Clay’s hands slid over Amanda’s hips as he pulled her to him, her lips touching his hotly.

Her mouth was warm and wet and her tongue was tangling with his wildly as his hands slipped inside the waistband of her pajamas and he eased them down her legs.

His lips left hers as he bent over to slide the pajamas off her.

He glanced up and met her sultry gaze, her eyes telling him how much she wanted him.

On his knees, he pressed his lips to her abdomen, his tongue making a slow circle around her belly button as he continued to slowly caress her hips and thighs with the tips of his fingers.

She shivered and slid her hands into his hair.

When she whispered his name softly, her voice filled with the same longing that was coursing through his veins, the desire pooling low in his stomach ignited.

He lifted his mouth from her skin, glancing up at her again only to find that she had closed her eyes.

Her fingers continued to move through his hair, her light touch sending shockwaves down his spine.

Dipping his head lower, he pressed his lips to the freckle on her thigh and swirled his tongue around it as he slowly slid his hands down the backs of her legs.

His fingers left her, the tips tingling as the softness of her skin was taken away.

She squirmed, begging him to touch her again.

Her voice cracked.

Raising his head, he pursed his lips to blow cool air over her heated, moist skin, thinking there was no need to beg.

He knew what she needed and wanted.

He knew her body and soul just as she knew his.

And, in truth, his need was equally desperate.

It felt like an eternity since he had been with her.

He needed to touch her and smell her and taste her.

He needed to fill his senses with her.

He needed to be inside her.

Her fingers twisted in his hair as his lips and tongue found her soft, wet warmth, and he felt a jolt run through him as she moaned.

She whimpered low in her throat moments later, his name mixed with the sound, and he lifted his head.

"Not like this," she managed, her voice strained as her eyes met his.

She dropped to her knees on the floor, putting them at eye level.

He leaned in and kissed her, his mouth opening widely on hers as he tried to consume her.

She tasted herself on his lips and returned the fervency in his kiss, her hands moving over his back and sliding over his hips and thighs as if she couldn't touch him enough.

She pulled back suddenly and reached for the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it off and tossing it aside.

Her hands immediately went to his chest, her fingers fanning over him as they slid down his abdomen slowly.

She pressed her lips to his just as her hands ventured lower.

Groaning, he wrapped an arm around her waist and eased her backward until he was on top of her, pressing deliciously against her in all the right places.

His entire body seemed to tremble as each inch of heated skin touched hers. He told himself he was rushing things as he slid his hands over her, his fingers finding the warmth and wetness between her legs.

He knew he couldn't last much longer.

He needed to know what it was like to love her again.

As she moved against him and with him, her lips whispering hotly against his ear, Clay knew she needed the same thing.

They needed each other.

Sliding his hands beneath her hips, Clay lifted her slightly before he moved over her and in her.

He gasped against her throat as she said his name hoarsely and her legs wrapped around his waist.

He thrilled at the feeling of being with her and being inside her, both his body and his mind seeking the satisfaction of loving her again.

His heart trying to beat its way out of his chest, he moved against her, watching her face intently.

She was reaching for him, her fingers sliding over his shoulders before digging into his back with each thrust.

A choked sob left her throat, her breathing shallower.

He braced his hands on either side of her head, lowering his lips to hers as he tried to give her what she wanted, what she needed.

He felt her shudder beneath him before she tore her lips from his and moaned loudly, her eyes sliding closed.

He captured her lips with his once more, kissing her deeply as his own body finally began to tremble.

A deep groan dissolved in her mouth as he pushed against her one final time.

Breathing raggedly, he collapsed on top of her, his lips brushing against her throat.

He could feel her chest rising and falling against him as she continued to shake.

He opened his mouth on hers, drinking her in desperately as his body was still twitching in spasms.

He leaned up on an elbow, the lingering taste of desire still on her lips.

As he lifted his head, intending to look into her eyes and tell her how much he loved her, he suddenly found himself watching her.

Watching as Jeremy kissed her passionately, his body pressed against hers, their bare limbs intertwined lazily.

As he continued to watch, seemingly powerless to look away, Jeremy ran his fingers lightly over her face and he saw her lips purse tenderly against the other man’s fingers.

Jeremy’s hand brushed over her shoulder and skimmed over her body slowly, Amanda’s eyes never leaving his.

Just as his hand grazed her hip, her eyes slid closed and Clay heard her whisper Jeremy’s name softly. Clay sat up with a start, his heart pounding wildly.

He glanced around the bedroom with wild eyes, unsure of where he was and wondering what had happened.

One moment he was secure and content in her arms, her body warm against his.

The next, he was merely a voyeur and completely helpless to stop the scene before him.

Looking down, he realized his t-shirt was stuck to him.

His body trembled with chills as his brain registered that he had been dreaming.

His breathing was uneven and frantic as if he really had been making love to her.

With a sick feeling in his stomach, he reminded himself that he hadn’t been making love to her – Jeremy had.

His eyes slid closed as he tried to get a grip on reality.

He could still feel her against him, feel her lips brushing over his, feel her moving with him. Waking up fully, he realized his t-shirt wasn’t the only thing sticking to him and he pushed back the covers, disgusted.

He hadn’t had a dream like that since junior high and as he stripped down in the bathroom, he was appalled at his own lack of self-control.

When he stepped inside the shower moments later, the muscles in his legs still trembling, he leaned his head against the wall and let the water run over his back.

The dream had been just as hot as anything they had ever done – and had felt just as real.

Groaning loudly, he was frustrated that his own body was betraying him.

It was hard enough to forget about her during day, hard enough to convince himself that he didn’t want her in any way.

As he closed his eyes and let the water run over his face, he thought about the dream.

If it had just been about his physical need, he could have forgotten it.

But throughout the dream, he’d felt himself aching with love for her – just like he had when they were together in reality.

He was driven by an intense desire to possess her in every way possible.

He wanted to sink into her and forget everything else existed.

He wanted to somehow tell her or show her that he belonged to her completely. Shutting off the water, he stepped out of the shower and dried himself off distractedly.

He went into the bedroom and put on a new pair of pajamas before he sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands.

He’d felt the same sense of peace at the end of the dream as he always did when he was with her – as if he had just found the place he was meant to be.

Well, he had felt that way until the dream had changed and it was Jeremy who was loving her.

He shook his head, blocking out the image of the two of them.

It had been too real.

It is too real , he reminded himself. Clay felt the all-too-familiar surge of anger in his veins and pushed himself off the bed.

Walking to the window, he attempted to calm his rioting emotions.

He had known that coming back to L.A.

Would be difficult with her there.

The boxes of his things had floored him, John seeing her had stirred a sense of longing that he thought he was conquering, and seeing her for himself had only intensified his feelings.

As horrific as his dream had been, he was grateful for the perspective he regained because of it.

It renewed the still volatile ire that periodically overcame him when he thought about what she had done.

Clearly, his body missed her.

His conscience piped in that it was more than that – much more than that – but he shrugged the thought aside irritably.

His physical need for her would pass, he knew.

And as long as he reminded himself that she had made the decision to stray, as long as he used that to fuel his anger, whatever lingering feelings he had for her would soon dissipate altogether.

Firmly checking his emotions once more, he turned away from the window and got into bed.

Crossing his arms behind his head, he stared up at the ceiling and forced himself to remember what it had felt like to “see” the two of them together.

Despite his ability to push his earlier longing for her aside, he was still wary of going to sleep.

Rolling onto his side a while later, he felt himself drifting to sleep and couldn’t help sending up a fervent prayer that the rest of his night would be dreamless.

Chapter 16 John walked over to Ned and put his hands on his hips angrily.

“If he keeps this up, I’m quitting.

The brooding is tolerable, but I can’t handle the constant bickering.

He’s mad at the world, and I’m sick of his snapping.” Ned glanced at Clay while the younger man was talking with a producer.

He was rehearsing and doing a sound check for his performance on American Idol that evening and his irritable mood hadn’t been lost on his manager.

Ned looked back at John.

“What did he do now?” “When I showed him the jacket I wanted him to wear tonight,” he glanced at Clay and then back at Ned, clearly irritated, “he asked me if I was blind or if I thought he was too stupid to notice how ugly it was.” Ned refrained from laughing and asked with a smile, “Which jacket was it?” “That blue paisley one, which he was fine with when we bought it.

He told me he thought it looked ‘funky.’” “What does he want to wear?” he asked instead of telling John that he, too, thought jacket was ugly. John threw up his hands.

“Something all black and morbid – which is exactly what he did the last time he sang this song.

I told him to do something different to show that he had grown, but no, he won’t budge.” “Well, it would fit the song.” “His wardrobe isn’t the problem.

If he wants all black, he can wear all black.

It’s his attitude.

I’m sick of it. He’s been home for three days and because his life is crap right now, we’re getting Mr.

Nasty.” Ned sighed.

“I’ll talk to him.

Find him something all black to wear in the meantime.” John walked off, avoiding Clay as he passed the stage.

Ned waited until Clay had finished his sound check and was sitting on the stage, his legs hanging over the side, before he approached him.

“Need some lunch?” he asked casually. Clay glanced at his manager coolly.

“I’m not really hungry.” He knew he was being a grouch, but he didn’t want to be there and he didn’t want to sing “Solitaire” that night.

His life was much easier when he was on the road and had a schedule to keep his mind occupied.

From his spot on the stage, he leaned back on the heels of his hands and studied Ned impassively.

“You never ask me if I want to eat – you usually let me fend for myself if I eat at all.

What’s going on?” “Let’s go grab a sandwich,” Ned said, indicating for Clay to follow him.

The younger man did so, but only after shooting his manager a longsuffering look.

He hopped off the stage and followed Ned down a hallway and into the dressing room the show had provided. “Wow, Ned.

Thanks for treating me.

Let me guess – something from the Craft Service table?” he asked sarcastically as he sat down on the couch. Ned leaned his hips against a make-up table across the room.

“That’s exactly what I want to talk to you about.” Clay looked up at him and waited.

“This attitude you’ve had lately – it sucks .” He leaned back against the couch and put his hands behind his head.

“Thanks. I’ve been working on it.” “Clay, I’m serious.

I understand that you’re going through a hard time right now, but that’s no—” “You don’t understand,” he interrupted.

“And even if you did, that wouldn’t make any difference.

There are certain things I have to do to get through the day, okay?

Be glad I’m not worse.” “I don’t know how you could be much worse.

Your friends are ready to walk off and leave you because they can’t stand your snapping.

The only thing I’m thankful for is the fact that you have the good sense to act normally on stage and in public.

You’re making the rest of the time incredibly difficult on the rest of us.” Clay’s eyes glinted angrily.

Ned didn’t deserve his anger, but he would do.

“How awful for you.

I’m so sorry that your life is in shambles right now.

I’m sorry that you were dumped and that your life – which seemed like it couldn’t get any better a month ago – now stinks, and you have no idea how to pick up the pieces.

I’m really sorry for you ,” he finished testily. Ned stared at him in silence for a moment.

“Okay, Clay, you win – your life is awful right now.

You thought you had found the love of your life and and then you found out she wasn't.

I’m sorry!” He gestured broadly.

Clay crossed his arms, looking away.

“I’m very sorry, in fact.

As much as I complained about the time she was taking out of your life, I was happy to see the two of you together.

But you know what?

It’s over!” Clay looked at him sharply.

“As much as you can blame her for the cheating, you made the decision to end the relationship.

So the ‘I got dumped’ card won’t work.” He pushed away from the table and crouched in front of Clay, making eye contact.

“It sucks. It hurts.

I’m sure there are a million other things you’d rather do than sing a song about a man losing the person he loved.” Clay flinched, but he continued.

“And I’m sure that you’d like some time to slink away and lick your wounds.

But you know what?

You can’t. You signed up for this a year ago.

No matter what happens in your personal life, this is your job .

And part of your job is to do appearances.

It’s also to go on tour and put on a great show for the thousands of people who have sacrificed time and money to see you.

And another part of your job is working with all of us who try to make sure you keep having a job.

We care about you, but we’re not martyrs.

We’re not going to sacrifice our own happiness so you can brood and feel sorry for yourself.” He stood and stared down at Clay.

“Your relationship is over.

She’s gone. Now pull your shit together and do what you’re being paid to do.

Grow up.” He turned and left the room, the door shutting soundly behind him. Clay stared at the closed door, his hands balled into fists.

Ned was right, he knew, but what right did he have to lecture him?

Did they think he didn’t know it was over and he had to move on?

Did they not think every moment of every day was a constant reminder that this wasn’t a temporary nightmare, this was his life?

Did they think he wanted to keep being miserable?

Clay tripped over that question in his mind.

Was that what he was doing?

As long as he was miserable, he could concentrate on being miserable and keep the wound fresh.

He could tell himself that it was just hard to get over her instead of being honest with himself that he wasn’t trying to get over her.

Even the anger was a way to keep her close.

Hating her was easier than forgetting about her.

Sighing loudly, he smacked his hand on the couch and stood, knowing he should apologize to Ned and to everyone else.

A surge of wounded pride washed over him and he told himself he would try to have a better attitude – but he wasn’t apologizing. Faye switched off the TV as American Idol went to commercial, not caring about the results of the vote.

Clay had sung beautifully, had said all the right words and made all the right quips, but the man she’d just watched wasn’t the Clay she wanted to see.

The man she had just watched was the ultimate professional.

He was smooth and confident.

But for the first time, she thought he seemed somewhat jaded.

She glanced at the phone on the table next to her and told herself that Amanda and Clay were both adults and would have to work this out together.

If they will work it out , she thought.

She started to reach for the phone and then put her hand back in her lap.

She’d told herself after she left Winston-Salem that it was wrong of her to call Amanda.

She wanted to, yes, but that would be meddling and the last thing this situation needed was another person involved.

Standing, she walked into the kitchen to clean up the dinner dishes, telling herself not to pick up the phone.

When she shut off the light on her nightstand two hours later, she glanced at her alarm clock.

11:30. Amanda would soon be seeing Clay sing for herself – if she was watching. “You do not need to get involved!” she told herself out loud, lying down in bed and staring up at the ceiling.

They love each other.

They know enough to reach out to one another when they’re hurting .

Well, she knew Clay loved Amanda.

She’d seen it in living color on her television screen only hours before in her son’s pale face and trembling lips.

What if Clay was right about Amanda not loving him and the woman on the phone had fooled her?

Could she have misjudged so badly?

She rolled onto her side and reminded herself not to get involved.

They had to fix this themselves. Faye managed to make it until midnight before she threw back the covers and turned on the light, reaching into her nightstand drawer for her address book and quickly dialing Amanda’s number.

As she listened to the phone ringing, she told herself it wasn’t meddling.

It was an intervention.

A necessary one. Amanda lifted her head from the pillow where she had buried it just after Clay’s face had left her television screen when she heard her phone ringing it.

Reaching for it, she expected it to be her mother or one of her worrywart friends.

Maybe they aren’t such worrywarts , she thought – considering the fact that she’d had to fight the urge to brush her finger over his image on the TV.

Answering with a sigh, she said, “Okay, you were right – I shouldn’t have watched it.” “Amanda?” “Oh!

Faye!” she exclaimed, shocked.

Why was Faye calling her?

Her stomach knotted.

“I was...um...expecting someone else,” she said softly. “Who were you expecting, Honey?” The endearment brought tears to her eyes.

Faye wasn’t supposed to like her anymore.

“My mom or one of my friends,” she managed. “Why?

Because they’re concerned about you seeing Clayton struggle through a song while he’s thinking of you?” Tilting her head back so she wouldn’t cry, Amanda clenched her eyes shut tightly.

“They’re concerned about me seeing him at all.” “So I’m correct in assuming that you watched?” “Yes.” “And?” Amanda swallowed, composing herself.

“And nothing. It was brutal, but I knew it would be.

It will get easier as time goes on.

Or I’ll stop watching,” she lied. “But it doesn’t have to get easier, Amanda.” Faye said quickly.

“You can end this all right now.” “How?

Have you talked to him?” “Yes, but he’s irrational and withdrawn, and it’s impossible to deal with him.” She pushed aside the automatic impulse to worry about him and cleared her throat.

“So you know why we broke up?” “Not really.

He just said you found someone else, which I know has to be a mistake.

You love my son – I know you do.” “Why would he lie?” “I can’t get into Clayton’s mind right now.

Like I said, he’s closed himself off from everyone.

I can’t guess at his motivation.

But I know what I saw between the two of you, and I know what I heard in your voice when you called me from the airport.

You love Clayton – no matter what you did or didn’t do.” “I didn’t do anything,” she said, defensive. “It doesn’t matter, Amanda.

I don’t care what either of you did.

All I know is that it’s ridiculous for anything to come between the two of you.

I wouldn’t have believed that Clayton would let you go for any reason.” “Me, either,” she said softly, thinking of Rebecca. “Do you love him?” Faye asked bluntly. “We broke up.

It’s over. I have to mov—” “Do you love him?” she repeated insistently. Amanda paused, realizing she wasn’t going to be able to avoid Faye’s question.

“Yes.” “Then that’s all that matters.

You love him and he loves you and—” “No, that’s not all that matters!” Amanda said, standing.

She paced restlessly.

“You and I both know that love isn’t always enough.” “But you do love him.” “It’s not that simple, Faye.” “It can be.” “But it’s not ,” Amanda said slowly.

“Do you realize what he accused me of?

He thinks that I slept with someone else.

And then when I told him that I didn’t – when I promised him that I had never betrayed him – he didn’t believe me.

He doesn’t trust me, Faye.

All the love in the world can’t make up for that,” she said quietly.

Her voice wavered.

“And he let me go, Faye.

He didn’t even care enough to ask me to stay so we could work things out,” she finished brokenly. Faye felt her heart turn over at the sincerity in her voice.

If she had doubted before, she now knew for certain that Amanda still loved him.

“Oh, Amanda,” she said softly.

“I’m sure if he could go back, he’d beg you to stay.

He might still be angry with you and he would still be hurt by your infidelity, but he wouldn’t let you go again.” Amanda’s spine straightened.

“There was no infidelity.” Faye bit her tongue.

Clay had to have had a reason to believe Amanda would stray.

She conceded in her own mind that maybe the lines of fidelity were blurred in this case.

Maybe Amanda had been attracted to someone else and had flirted with being unfaithful and Clay had filled in the rest.

Or maybe she had cheated on him, but was too ashamed to admit it now.

Shaking her head, she realized she was getting distracted.

It didn’t matter.

“It doesn’t matter, Amanda.” “No!

It does matter!” she said desperately.

Before she thought, she added, “He used my supposed infidelity to justify his own!” She felt tears forming in her eyes again, but she didn’t bother fighting them.

“I served my purpose and when he had an opportunity to get rid of me, he did!

He never loved me, Faye – he told me himself!” Faye was still reeling from the shock that Clay had evidently been with someone other than Amanda.

Who? And when? It finally sunk in that Amanda had said he never loved her and she pushed her shock aside to disagree.

“He couldn’t have meant that, Amanda.

He loves you. He’s always loved you – I saw it for myself.” “You were wrong,” Amanda said, wiping her face.

“He loved what I could give him.

He didn’t love me .

If he had, I wouldn’t have been so easy to replace.” “You think this has been easy for him?

And you certainly haven’t been replaced.” “Call him and ask him to roll over and hand the phone to her and then tell me I haven’t been replaced,” she said nastily. Faye sucked in a breath.

“Who?” Amanda coughed, tears clogging her throat.

“Rebecca.” Faye’s brow furrowed.

“Rebecca? I don’t know any Rebecca.” “Maybe you can meet her at Thanksgiving dinner,” Amanda said flatly, walking into her bedroom and lying down on the bed. She shook her head.

“Whoever this woman is – I’m sure he doesn’t love her the way he loves you.

He didn’t even mention her to me when I talked to him.” Amanda refrained from saying that he probably loved Rebecca exactly the way he had loved her, choosing instead, “Must have slipped his mind.

Or she’s not the type of girl you bring home to mom.” She was being petty, but she didn’t care. “This is more complicated than I thought,” Faye said, more to herself than anyone. “Yes.

And not getting any simpler as time goes on.

Can you please ask him the next time you talk to him – without mentioning me – if he sent his Dr.

Seuss hat to Kristy?” Her natural defense mechanism was to think of work.

And even when the work was related to him, it was easier than picturing exactly how he might be loving Rebecca at that very moment. “Um, I suppose,” she said, surprised at the change of subject.

“Why?” “He wants to auction it for the Night of Champions benefit in Kansas City next month.

She needs it. She was supposed to call him, but I don’t know if she did, and I don’t want to call her back and have to pretend we’re still together.” “Kristy doesn’t know?” “Not the last time we talked.

Unless he’s told her, she still doesn’t know.

Someone needs to, but it’s not going to be me.” “I’ll tell her,” Faye said, sighing.

“She deserves to know since she has to work with both of you.

How is the event coming together?” “Fabulously,” Amanda said flatly. “Will you still sit with us?” Amanda laughed bitterly.

“I’m certainly not going to be there.” “What?” she asked, shocked.

“But all the work you’ve put into it!” “No way.

I’m not going. I’ll finish up my work on it and then they're going to have to hire someone else.

I’m only fulfilling my commitment on this project because I told them I would.

There are plenty of charities I can work for – charities where the founder and I can be in the same room.” Faye fought another sigh.

“I can’t stand to see the two of you this way.” “You don’t have to.

You don’t have an obligation to me, Faye.

I’ll be fine.” She shook her head.

“Now you’re wrong.

I do have an obligation to you.

I love you.” Amanda felt her throat close again.

“You shouldn’t,” she whispered. “That’s for me to decide.” She paused.

“Amanda, Honey, can I ask you a question, and will you answer me honestly?” “I’ll try.” “If Clayton were to call you tonight and tell you that he had made a mistake, that he still loves you and wants you back – would you go back to him?” Amanda stared up at her bedroom ceiling, her heart and her mind warring with one another.

Her heart screamed yes, go back and end this miserable aching and longing for him .

Her mind told her she would be stupid to go back to a person who didn’t trust her.

The longer she lay there, the more conflicted she became.

What was the right answer? Faye cleared her throat.

“Amanda?” “Yes.” “Was that your answer or was that in response to me saying your name?” “Take it whichever way you want.” She sat up on the bed and smiled at the phone gently.

“You know I love you, too, right?” “Yes, Dear, I know,” Faye said softly.

“That’s why I knew I could call you.” “Thank you for trying – even if it didn’t do any good.” “You think I’m prepared to give up?” Amanda laughed.

“I see where Clay gets his stubbornness.” Her chest tightened and she swallowed, closing her eyes.

“I wish you could have loaned him some of that a couple weeks ago.” Faye nodded sadly.

“I wish I could have, too.” She paused.

“Other than the obvious, what did you think of his performance tonight?” Amanda was quiet for a long moment before she answered.

“He needs a haircut.” Faye laughed.

“That sounds like the Amanda I know.” She smiled, trying a different tactic.

“You know what that Amanda would do?” “What?” “She’d fight for him.

She’d refuse to let him get away with this nonsense.” Amanda sighed.

“If you happen to see that Amanda, tell her that.

This one just wants to sleep through the night without waking up and reaching for him.” “I don’t believe you.” “You don’t?” “You don’t want that.” “What do I want then?” She smiled sadly.

“You want to wake up and reach for him and him be there.” Amanda released a breath shakily.

“Goodnight, Faye.” Faye replaced the receiver on the base and stared at the phone for a moment.

She thought about Clay, about Amanda, about the fact that they were going to soon be asleep less than two miles apart, both wanting one another but unsure of how to find the other again.

Sighing, she turned the light off again and got back under the covers.

Turning onto her side, she closed her eyes and prayed that they would both find their way back to where they belonged.

Together. Amanda checked her front door to make sure it was locked, purposefully over-concentrating on her every movement so her mind wouldn’t wander.

She did okay while she started the dishwasher and picked up the few items out of place in the living room.

She did okay while she took out her contacts and brushed her teeth.

She mentally congratulated herself for not looking in the mirror while she did it because when she looked in the mirror, she half-expected to see his grinning face standing behind her.

Pushing that thought aside, she padded back down the hall and crawled into her bed.

Glancing at her clock, she wondered when she had become the type of person who went to bed before midnight.

Well, the type of person who went to bed alone before midnight.

The fewer hours she was awake, the better, though.

She’d been lucky enough that she hadn’t dreamed of him many times.

She wondered if he had dreamt of her at all as she turned over.

The time between getting in the bed and falling asleep was often the hardest part of her day.

It was when her body relaxed and her mind was allowed to wander.

And it usually wandered to him.

Tonight she was mulling over Faye’s insistence that Clay loved her.

Of course he wouldn’t tell his mother that he’d merely used me for practice before he could be with a real woman , she thought sickeningly.

That had to be it.

Because if she thought that he was lying in bed, so close to her, loving her and missing her, she might not be able to maintain her resolve to never see him again. Clay stomped down the steps, unable to sleep.

Raleigh took it as a sign that he was up and wanted to play.

He ignored her, pushing his guilt aside when she whined and scratched his leg as he stood in front of the open refrigerator.

He instinctively looked over his shoulder for Amanda to reprimand him for his disgusting habits, realizing with a pang that he could be as disgusting as he wished – she wouldn’t be there to care.

Replacing the carton, he shut the refrigerator door and walked into the living room.

The moonlight spilled into the room, lighting the hair on his legs as it washed over him.

He sat down on the couch and let his mind go where it wanted to go.

How he’d made it through the song, he didn’t know.

There had been a few moments when he was afraid the entire audience was going to know exactly how much he was struggling.

But he’d done it.

After he’d left the stage, Ned had patted him on the back saying, “Amazing.

You even convinced me that you were fine.

I see what we need to do know – we need to keep you singing.” His manager had laughed and left him alone after that, only reminding him that their flight to Dallas left the next morning.

He chewed on his thumbnail absently, wondering why the thought of leaving L.A.

Was making him so depressed.

He didn’t have to examine his feelings too closely to know that it was because when he was in Dallas, Amanda wasn’t a two-minute drive away.

She might hate him and he might be trying to hate her, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want her close. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair.

He’d wanted to get out of the studio as quickly as possible following the show.

Knowing he shouldn’t, he had even ignored a small group of fans that had congregated outside.

He’d been rewarded by hearing two of the more aggressive fans – the ones who had clearly hoped their cropped tops and glossed lips would entice him – conclude that evidently the gay rumors were true.

He’d ignored them like the rest, but their comment had stung.

The rumors usually didn’t bother him – he knew what was true and anyone who knew him knew what was true.

But there had been some intrinsic satisfaction in having Amanda by his side and in his life as a testament to that fact.

She loved him – had loved him, he reminded himself – and she was physically attracted to him.

He’d never pegged himself as a chest-beating, testosterone-obsessed kind of guy, but he understood it on some level.

She did make him feel like a man and now he felt woefully inadequate.

Regardless of the wiles Jeremy had used, the fact remained that if he had been enough for her, she wouldn’t have gone looking elsewhere.

Frustrated at the way his emotions continued to run the spectrum between deep sadness and intense anger, he pushed himself off the couch and went back upstairs.

Raleigh was still pouting, refusing to come up with him, so he left her downstairs.

When he rolled onto his side and exhaled loudly against his pillow, he told himself that leaving L.A.

Would be a good thing.

He could focus on work and get his head straight again.

And maybe by the next time he was home, he could forget she was there and with Jeremy.

Or at least forget that she wasn’t with him.

Warning : some of these passages may be difficult to read. Chapter 17 Amanda bent over at the waist, bracing her hands on her knees as she caught her breath.

A trickle of sweat rolled into her ear and she shook her head as it tickled.

She’d just finished what had become her nightly run at the school track.

It had begun as a way to clear her head and exhaust her body to help her sleep at night.

She still wasn't sleeping well, but running had become a habit.

She walked around the track slowly, letting her body cool down and trying not to think about the fact that Clay would be back in California the next week.

He had several west coast shows in a row, and she dreaded his return.

She’d already made plans to spend a few days at Janice’s family’s vacation home in northern California when he would be in town.

When he was hundreds of miles away again, she would come home. Another runner passed her in his steady jog, breaking her concentration.

Hearing a noise behind her, she turned to see a car pulling into the parking lot.

Sighing inwardly, she watched Jeremy get out of the car and make his way to where she was.

That was another complication.

He did remind her of Clay, which was probably why she had been tolerating his increasingly more flirtatious overtones.

He hadn’t said anything, but she’d noticed that he sat a little closer to her when they were studying and his gaze seemed to linger on her longer than it used to.

He’d asked her out to dinner the weekend Clay had left L.A., and she had declined.

He hadn’t given up, however, and he’d finally convinced her to go to a movie earlier that week.

He’d taken her to a casual restaurant that was popular and close to campus afterward, and against her will, she’d had a good time.

As he neared her now, he smiled broadly.

“Just finish?” “Yep.

Just three miles tonight.” “Lazy!” he teased, dropping his duffel bag.

“I had to work late.

You care to stay while I run or do you have something to do?” Something other than going home and wandering around my apartment , she thought.

“No. No plans. How sad is that?

Saturday night and my hot date will be with a shower and probably a bowl of ice cream.” Jeremy was thankful that he was stretching and therefore was bent over.

The thought of Amanda and a shower had caused an immediate reaction, and he was afraid she’d notice.

As he turned his back to her and pretended to look through his bag for an ankle support, he smirked.

Maybe she’d be impressed and quit delaying the inevitable.

He thought he’d been more than patient with her since Clay had left the picture.

He’d done all the right things – calling her to check on her, playing the role of concerned friend to the hilt, gradually becoming more forward so she would be comfortable with it.

He turned back around and noticed that she had lain down on the bleachers, her legs stretched out.

Her hand was lying idly on her stomach and he noticed happily that her shirt was slightly raised, exposing a peek of her tanned abdomen.

He'd love to forgo running and drag her underneath the bleachers for a different type of exercise.

He reminded himself again that she would be worth his wait.

Clearing his throat, he spoke.

“Better than my hot date with my term paper for McKenzie.” “How’s that coming along?” she asked. “Slow.

I hadn’t planned on running tonight, but this was a nice way to procrastinate going home after work and staring at a blinking cursor.” She laughed.

“That bad? How much do you have?” “About two pages.

I think my problem is that I did too much research.

I’m overwhelmed and don’t know how to organize all the information.” He nearly groaned out loud when she stretched her arms above her head, causing her shirt to rise even more before it slipped back down.

“When is it due?” “Next Wednesday – what about you?

I take it you’ve already done yours since you seem so calm about it?” “Monday and yeah, it’s done,” she said, distracted.

Without Clay in her life, she didn't have anything to do except work.

She had finished most of her projects early. Jeremy sensed that she had stopped paying attention to him and set off in a slow jog.

Amanda was glad he finally left as she was feeling herself begin to tire of his chatter.

There were days that she simply couldn’t stand to keep up the charade that she was fine.

Today was one of those days.

While he ran his laps, she tried to clear her mind with deep breathing.

Even though she felt crazy doing it, she’d finally taken Janice’s advice that she try some type of meditation when she started to feel panicky.

Of all her new friends, she’d depended on Janice more than anyone since she and Clay had broken up.

Janice was the only one who knew the whole story and the only one she called in the middle of the night when she couldn’t sleep.

Sometimes she wanted to talk about Clay, and Janice would listen.

Other times she wanted meaningless chatter, and Janice did that, too.

She’d been a godsend, and Amanda knew she wouldn’t be doing nearly as well as she was if it weren’t for her friend. Propping herself up on her elbows, she watched Jeremy start another lap, noticing the wet spot on the back of his t-shirt where it was sticking to him.

He was attractive.

He wasn’t the type she usually went for, but his appeal wasn’t completely lost on her.

And she’d noticed how female heads usually turned when he came in a room.

On some level, she supposed she should be flattered that he was interested in her.

Instead, though, it just reminded her that Clay had been right about that.

Jeremy had made his way around another time and she let her gaze pass over him as he jogged by her.

She sighed, not liking the direction her thoughts were taking.

It had been a month since Clay and she had made love, a month since she had been kissed.

Amanda hadn’t realized what it meant to her that a man was attracted to her.

As she continued to watch Jeremy, she wondered what he really thought of her.

Was he attracted to her like Clay had been?

Did he think she was sexy or just an attractive friend?

Shaking her head and telling herself she was losing her mind, she sat up and stood.

She brushed off the back of her shorts and descended the few steps to the track as Jeremy came to a halt. Jeremy noticed that Amanda was looking at him oddly.

If he was reading her correctly, it almost looked like she was checking him out – and liking what she saw.

When he saw her gaze drop to his stomach when he raised his t-shirt to wipe his face, he smiled inwardly.

That was certainly an improvement.

Carefully reining in the rush of adrenaline that came with her promising response, he smiled at her.

“Have you had dinner?” Amanda met his gaze and considered lying.

If she told him that she hadn’t eaten, he was going to offer to take her out somewhere.

Wondering what was wrong with her as she suddenly noticed how bright his blue eyes looked against his tanned skin, she shocked herself by saying, “No, you want to grab a bite to eat?” He smiled slowly.

“That’d be great.

Although,” he said, looking down at himself, “I think we’re both too sweaty and smelly for public.

How about stopping for some of Bertollini’s famous fettuccine alfredo and taking it back to your apartment?” There was something different about the way Jeremy looked at her when he spoke, and Amanda felt a familiar rush run through her.

Clay didn’t want her, but someone did.

Someone who could have any girl he wanted.

Ignoring the way her conscience pricked her and told her she was only proving Clay right, she nodded.

“Sounds good to me.” It took a considerable amount of Jeremy’s self-control not to claim his prize right then and there.

Something had changed.

He didn’t know what it was, but he wasn’t going to question her motivation.

And when he finished with her later that evening – much later, if she was up to it – she would be wishing she’d come around a lot sooner. Clay opened the minibar in his hotel room, telling himself it was stupid to pay such an exorbitant price for a bottle of water.

Normally, he would be on the road to the next city, but a problem with the buses had landed him in the hotel for another night.

Luckily, he had the next day off and could easily make the drive to San Diego.

Taking a drink, he sat down on the couch in his suite, rubbing the back of his neck.

They were in Las Vegas, and most of the band and crew had headed out to the strip after the show.

Not that he was interested in gambling, but it only served to remind him that had things been different, Amanda might have flown out for the weekend show and they could have seen the city together.

He wouldn’t have been sitting in his hotel room alone, at the very least.

Debating whether to pay for a movie or go ahead and try to sleep, he heard a commotion in the hallway.

Hearing Kelly’s loud voice, he smiled and went to the door.

He needed to thank her.

She’d managed to make him laugh during the last few weeks when he didn’t think he could.

Opening the door, he saw her scurrying down the hall, laughing. “What’s going on?” he asked Rebecca, who was just outside his door. “She’s crazy, mainly.

Danny is raking it in playing blackjack downstairs and she thinks she can do it, too.” Clay shook his head, smiling.

He stepped out into the hall and stuck his hands in his pockets.

“What about you? Thinking of trying your luck?” Rebecca looked up at him, feeling her heart race.

She knew he’d only been affectionate with her in Miami because he wanted his ex to see them together, but that didn’t change the fact that she still remembered what it was like to lean against him, his arms around her.

At the moment, she could tell he was tired.

Being aggressive wouldn’t work with him, she knew.

But sweet might. Sticking her hands in her back pockets, she looked up at him shyly and shrugged.

“Not really. I don’t know the first thing about gambling.

What are you up to?” He leaned against the doorframe, looking over her head briefly before meeting her gaze again.

“Trying to decide what to do with myself.

I’m restless.” “Want some company?” she asked, smiling brightly.

“We can raid the minibar and order a movie.

Completely veg out.” Clay felt his heart constrict.

The way she’d said it – and what she said – sounded just like something Amanda would say.

As he looked down at Rebecca’s smiling face, he noticed the slight similarities between the two women.

They were around the same height and while Amanda’s complexion was lighter than Rebecca’s, they both had bright blue eyes.

Her lips weren’t as full as Amanda’s, her nose was smaller, and she was more obviously – and purposefully – sexy, he thought, noticing the tightness of her t-shirt.

Amanda wouldn’t have been caught dead in something that tight.

Realizing Rebecca was waiting for an answer, he straightened. “Um, sure.

Come on in,” he said, stepping back to let her pass.

When he shut the door behind him, his gaze fell on the sway of her hips and he quickly raised his eyes.

What was he doing?

He wasn’t interested in Rebecca.

As he watched her bend over in front of the minibar, he admitted that she was attractive.

And she wasn’t as annoying as he had originally believed.

Once he had adjusted to her, he would even go as far as to say that he enjoyed her company.

He knew she had a crush on him, but he’d brushed it aside thus far.

As she stood and turned to face him, her eyes bright, he wondered if maybe he was passing up an opportunity for something special.

She wasn’t Amanda, but he knew he was never going to find another woman like her.

Amanda wasn't the woman I thought she was, either , he reminded himself.

He walked over and sat down on the couch, leaving room for her.

When she sat down beside him with the movie guide, he noticed that she sat a little closer to him than was necessary for them both to read.

He glanced at her profile and noticed the swell of her bottom lip as she bit it distractedly.

She scooted closer before looking up and meeting his gaze, her eyes soft and inviting. “What do you want to do?” she asked quietly. “You mean what movie?” he asked slowly. She smiled.

“Sure. Unless you want to do something else.” Jeremy waited until he heard the hairdryer cut off before he spoke.

“Hey, Amanda, you mind if I use your shower after you get done in there?” Amanda’s hand paused on the plug of the dryer as she went to pull it out of the socket.

They had eaten as soon as they got to her apartment, and throughout the meal, Jeremy had been attentive.

More attentive than ever before.

Flirtatious. And she had caught herself flirting with him .

When she had excused herself to take a shower, leaving him in her living room, she had told herself that she was tired and missing Clay and had promised herself that she wouldn’t encourage Jeremy anymore.

She did enjoy the look in his eyes, though.

He looked at her like a woman.

Clay had looked at her like she was scum.

Jeremy interrupted her thoughts when he leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom and smiled down at her.

“Did you hear me?

Mind if I use your shower?” She glanced up at him.

“But you don’t have any clothes to change into.” Jeremy resisted the urge to tell her that wouldn’t be a problem.

“My duffel bag is in the car – I have some extra gym clothes in it.” “Oh.

Well. I suppose it’s fine.” She looked away, feeling self-conscious.

“Let me get rid of these wet towels and things.” She bent over to pick up the few towels on the floor and Jeremy grinned.

Just a little while longer , he told himself.

Later, when he emerged in fresh clothes and with his hair dry, she was sitting on the couch, her legs curled beneath her. Amanda jumped slightly when Jeremy sat down.

He was too close.

The attention was too intoxicating.

As she watched him look at her, she told herself she didn’t want him.

Feeling her heart begin to race as he lay his hand on the couch next to her leg, she wondered what he was thinking. Jeremy felt his pulse racing as she looked at him.

He’d been waiting for what seemed like forever to have her and his body was becoming more and more aware that his wait was about to be over.

He inched his hand closer to her thigh, refraining from touching her just yet.

He met her gaze, his lids lowered.

“Amanda?” “Hmm?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly. He moved his hand to lay it on top of hers, softening his voice as he spoke.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” Her chest tightened with a mixture of excitement and anxiety.

This had to be wrong.

“You think I’m beautiful?” she asked, unsure of herself. His fingers brushed over the top of her hand.

“Incredibly.” He met her gaze for a long moment before he shook his head slowly.

“That boyfriend of yours must have been out of his mind,” he whispered.

He moved closer to her, lifting his hand to lay it on the side of her face gently.

“I mean, if I had someone like you,” he paused to sigh, “I’d never, ever let you go.” Amanda exhaled, feeling her hand shake as she lifted it to push a piece of her hair behind her ear.

Jeremy’s fingers stopped her, tucking her hair behind her ear himself.

His thumb slid over her cheekbone before it left her face.

“What’s going on?” she whispered. “For the longest time,” he said, his voice low, “I’ve wondered what it would be like to kiss you.” She stilled, her heart pounding in her ears.

“When’s the last time you were really kissed?

Kissed by someone who knew exactly what he had when he had you?” Jeremy’s eyes boring into hers, she remembered that Clay didn’t want her.

He’d told her that he had never loved her.

He’d used her until he was done with her and then he had moved on to someone new.

Her lips trembling, she said softly, “I don’t know.” He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip slowly.

He wondered idly if she could feel his erection against her leg.

If she did, she wasn’t moving away.

Seeing that she was on the brink of giving in, he softened his gaze once more.

“Amanda, can I kiss you?

Please, Darling?” Something about the endearment felt wrong, but the intensity of his gaze and the gentle way he was pulling her close clouded her defenses.

Ignoring the pang of sadness that ran through her, Amanda closed her eyes and leaned in, parting her lips slightly. Jeremy mentally congratulated himself before he touched his mouth to hers.

Opening his mouth on hers widely, he groaned.

She was even sweeter than he had imagined and he shifted on the couch, leaning into her and increasing the pressure of his lips. Jeremy’s mouth was more insistent than Amanda had expected and a nagging voice in her head told her he was moving too fast as his hands skimmed down her face and went to her hips.

But her body was responding to the touch of someone who wanted her, who desired her, who didn’t believe she had betrayed them.

She leaned into him and kissed Jeremy back, drawing his tongue into her mouth and letting her fingers slide into the back of his hair. “Like what?” Clay asked, noticing that Rebecca was leaning against his arm. She ran her finger along his arm, looking down shyly.

“Anything you want.” She raised her head and met his gaze.

“I know you’ve been down in the dumps lately.” She continued to slowly caress his arm.

“And you work so hard – I don’t know how you do it.” “Just something I have to do,” he said softly, feeling his body react to her nearness – something he had questioned would ever happen again.

She really is pretty , he thought.

And she was making it fairly obvious that she was interested.

His conscience told him that it would be wrong to lead her on and let her believe that they could have something.

If nothing else, he wasn’t ready for another serious relationship.

His wounded pride wasn’t listening, however, and was only concerned with the fact that she had moved her hand to his thigh and was sliding it upward as her eyes remained locked with his. Clay’s conscience refused to be silenced, and he stilled her hand.

“Rebecca, I’m flattered – really.” He paused.

“And in difference circumstances, I’d…this could be something.

But I’m not ready for a serious relationship.

I’m sorry.” She smiled.

“That’s fine, Clay.

I’m not asking for a serious relationship.” She leaned over and kissed the skin below his ear gently before meeting his gaze again.

“Sometimes you just need a little fling.

Don’t be so serious all the time,” she teased.

“Life is more fun that way.” “I just got out of a very serious relationship.

You have no idea how serious,” he protested, but he wasn’t immune to the tickle of her breath on his ear.

“Fun is the furthest thing from my mind.

I’m just trying to get through this tour.” She shifted on the couch, leaning into him and resuming the upward direction of her hand on his thigh.

“I’m not asking anything of you, Clay.

I don’t want a commitment.

I don’t want a relationship.” She brushed her lips over his ear again.

“I just want you ,” she said huskily. Clay shivered involuntarily as his pulse raced.

A gorgeous woman was throwing herself at him and he was saying no?

The woman he wanted hadn’t wanted him anymore, but this one did.

He hadn’t been enough for Amanda, but Rebecca clearly thought he could satisfy her.

As he felt her hand inch higher, his eyes slid closed and he swallowed, unable to control his body’s natural reaction.

He groaned involuntarily a moment later as her fingers brushed over the front of his pants and felt her laugh seductively against his ear. “You like that?” she whispered hotly. Clay felt the sting of tears at the back of his eyes.

His heart wanted nothing more than for the woman next to him to be Amanda.

He wanted her . But he couldn’t have her.

His body and his pride were demanding that he prove himself, that he give this to himself.

He opened his eyes and met Rebecca’s gaze.

She was looking at him questioningly, her lips parted.

Clay stared at her for a moment before he slid his fingers around the back of her neck and pulled her lips to his, opening his mouth on hers.

She moaned against his mouth and moved to straddle his lap, rubbing herself against him.

As Clay felt her move on top of him, his mind screamed at him that he was doing this for the wrong reason.

When her tongue slid into his mouth and her fingers slipped into his hair, he pushed his thoughts aside and moved his hands to her hips, pulling her down against him and telling himself it didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered anymore. Eight Days Later Amanda rolled over, making a noise in her throat.

Her hand reached out automatically and then curled around the excess fabric of the sheet where she had pulled it loose from the bed.

Kicking the covers away in her sleep, she was lost in a dream of sound and touch and broken images.

Hands pulling, pushing, frantically touching.

Fingers gripping, digging into her skin.

Moaning. Limbs intertwined, bodies pressing together, muscles tightening.

Biting, scratching, whimpering.

Jeremy was atop her, his mouth silencing her as his lips covered hers hungrily.

His hands moved over her, and his body was moving against her and finally, in her. Amanda sat up suddenly, her heart racing.

She looked around the darkened room, disoriented.

This wasn’t her bedroom.

It wasn’t her apartment.

She glanced back at the bed suddenly, half-expecting to see Jeremy’s naked form next to her.

Blinking slowly, she tried to remember where she was.

Janice’s vacation home.

San Francisco. She’d driven up for the weekend so she wouldn’t be home when Clay was in L.A.

Exhaling loudly, she stood shakily and found her robe that was lying over a chair in the corner of the bedroom.

Cinching the belt around her waist, she opened her door and walked downstairs.

In the pool of light that spilled into the room when she opened the refrigerator door to get a carton of milk, she peered at her watch.

Three a.m. After finding a filter, she sat down in a kitchen chair, pulling her knees to her chest as she waited for the coffee to percolate.

Resting her cheek atop her knee, she closed her eyes and sighed heavily.

So much for sleeping. Eight Days Earlier Rebecca tasted differently than Amanda.

Clay’s fingers had slipped into her hair, holding her mouth to his as she ground her hips against him.

He groaned deep in his throat.

Rebecca pulled her mouth from his, breathing against his ear words that would have normally shocked, but now seemed to excite him.

She slithered her fingers under his shirt and quickly pushed it up and off.

Clay’s hands curved over her hips, holding her tightly against the evidence of his almost painful arousal.

She laughed low in her throat as she moved her hands to his chest, sliding them down until they snuck inside the waistband of his pajamas and tickled over feather soft hair.

Clay’s hips bucked, and she lowered her mouth to his, her hands and her mouth pushing any thoughts of Amanda out of his brain.

His fingers closed around the hem of her t-shirt.

One last shred of his self-control threatened to stop him until Rebecca opened her mouth on his more impatiently just as her hand squeezed around the hardened length of him.

Moaning loudly, he tugged on her shirt until she lifted her mouth from his, gladly raising her arms as he pulled it off her. “I had no idea you could be like this,” he said with a hint of appreciation in his voice.

As his gaze moved over her hotly, any thoughts of stopping were quashed.

His body was demanding release. Her eyes flared and she purred against his ear, “We’re just getting started, Sugar.” His hands skimmed over her shoulders and down her arms before she grabbed them and placed them on her bra as she leaned in and he felt her tongue tracing circles slowly.

Clay leaned his head back on the couch, his eyes closed, as her mouth continued to tantalize him, her teeth scraping a sensitive nipple.

His hands pinched and pulled at her breasts, wishing she were rid of that flimsy piece of silk separating her skin from his touch.

When she scooted down him, he raised his head and met her gaze through lowered lids.

She smiled seductively, the tip of her tongue resting softly on the edge of her top lip.

As she leaned her head down toward his lap, she stopped as if to get permission to go any further.

His heart pounding in his ears, he nodded at her. Faye sighed loudly, glancing at the clock on her nightstand.

She blamed her children for the fact that she couldn’t sleep.

If it wasn’t Brett out with his girlfriend past his curfew, it was worrying about Clay and Amanda.

At the moment, Brett was sound asleep in his room – or he should be , she thought.

It was Clay that was keeping her up.

Ever since she had called Amanda over a week ago, she had told herself that she would not confront Clay with what Amanda had said.

She would not ask him if he had really been unfaithful.

He would probably be angry with her for even calling his girlfriend.

She refused to call Amanda his ex, even though she knew that was the case.

She looked at the clock again, knowing that he would still be up after the show that evening.

Switching on her bedside lamp, she sat up.

It took her a moment to convince herself that she wasn’t going to make matters worse before she picked up the phone and dialed his cell phone.

When his voice mail automatically picked up, indicating that the phone was off, her brow furrowed.

He never turned off his cell phone.

Trying the number again, she got the same message.

Telling herself not to worry, she found her robe and walked downstairs to find the paper he had given her with the names of the hotels where he would be staying.

She ran her finger down the list until she found Las Vegas and then picked up the phone in the kitchen, dialing carefully.

When the desk clerk answered, she asked for the name that Clay always stayed under and tapped her fingers on the counter idly while she waited for them to connect her. The jarring ringing of the phone startled Clay as Rebecca was slowly making her way down his body.

She didn’t pause, but it rattled him enough that he automatically reached to answer it where it sat on the table beside the couch.

Just as his hand closed around the receiver, Rebecca chose that moment to rise up and lean into him, her mouth closing around his nipple, biting hard and pulling.

He jerked and dropped the phone, causing it to hang-up when his hands moved to tangle in her hair.

Rebecca loved his reactions to what she was doing, and she could tell he wanted her mouth much lower than where it was, but she wasn't through playing with him yet.

She moved her mouth upward to kiss him as she slid her hand below to caress him through the straining fabric of his pants.

He suckled her bottom lip roughly, eliciting a moan from her, before he lifted his head and breathed into her ear what he wanted her to do, where he wanted her mouth,.

Rebecca laughed throatily, and he nipped her earlobe.

Drawing her tongue back into his mouth, he hastily pushed the straps of her bra off her shoulders and fumbled with the clasp, not noticing that she used her free hand to pick up the phone and set it off the hook.

Rebecca lifted her head and smiled at him.

“I don’t know if I can wait,” she whispered huskily.

Slipping her legs on either side of his hips again, she moaned into his ear as he tossed her bra aside and his hands found her breasts, this time not so gently.

“Mmhmm. Yes, Clay,” she said as she pulled his mouth to hers and began a suggestive rhythm with her tongue.

His hands gliding over her hips, Clay mimicked the rhythm in his mouth with his body.

Tearing his mouth from hers with a low groan a moment later, Clay was trailing hot kisses down her throat when he felt her reach for his waistband, gripping it with both hands.

“Lift your hips, Sugar.” He was more than ready to comply. Faye tried Clay’s room for the fourth time and listened to the busy signal before she gave up on not panicking and called Jerome.

She was pacing in the kitchen when he answered. “Hello?” “Jerome!

Where is Clayton?” “Um, in his room the last time I saw him,” Jerome said, automatically standing and picking up his room key.

“What’s wrong, Faye?” “I tried his cell phone and it was off and then I tried his room and someone answered and immediately hung up after fumbling with the phone.

And since then, it’s been busy.

Will you check on him?” she asked, pacing.

“I know I shouldn’t be this worried, but he hasn’t been the same since he and Amanda broke up and when he didn’t answer, I panicked.” Jerome sighed.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with him.

Maybe he just didn’t want to answer the phone?” he suggested, not conveying the fact that he was worried, also.

Any change from the norm worried him these days. “Maybe.

But I’d feel better if I talked to him.” I understand,” he said, stopping in front of Clay’s door and knocking.

“Clay?” he called, continuing to knock. Clay, his breathing coming in short, panting, gasps, vaguely heard a noise in the back of his mind, but Rebecca’s mouth was around him, and all other thoughts were pushed to the back of what mind he had left.

She had been slowly licking the length of him, the sounds leaving her lips only fueling his need for her, when she had suddenly covered him with her mouth completely and started to slowly pull him in and out.

He was so close, only seconds away from dragging her up to roll her onto her back on the couch when the door slammed against the wall as it was flung open.

He instinctively groaned in protest as his entire body jerked – enough that Rebecca’s mouth slipped off him as she, too, screamed. Jerome, taking in the couple on the couch, felt his temper flare.

“What in the hell are you doing?” he asked, forgetting that the phone was in his hand.

He slammed the door shut behind him.

Before Clay could answer his question, he did it for him.

“Well, it’s pretty clear what you’re trying to do,” he said, disgusted. Clay had instinctively pushed Rebecca, half-clothed, off him and had moved in front of her to shield her from Jerome’s eyes.

He grabbed a pillow hastily and held it in his lap, wincing.

“Look, I know what you’re thinking, but I—” “You have no idea what I’m thinking!” Jerome yelled before he checked himself.

Putting his hands on his hips, he said, “ I’m thinking your little friend ought to find her clothes and go home because this is stopping right now.” Clay felt a flare of ire.

“Why are you barging into my room, anyway?

Don’t I have any privacy?” Jerome ignored him, trying to control his anger.

“Look, I’m twenty-five years old.

I can do whatever I want with whomever I wan—” “You’re twenty-five years old, but you’re using her to try to forget about the woman you really want.

Rebecca, go back to your room,” Jerome barked.

He picked her shirt up off the floor and tossed it to her.

“You might want to put that on.” Rebecca, still behind Clay, slipped the shirt on and grabbed her bra before shooting Clay an embarrassed look and scurrying out of the room with a small backward glance. “Who do you think you are?” Clay asked, infuriated.

His body was still tensed and begging him to finish what he had started.

“You’re my bodyguard, damn it, not my mother!” Jerome raised his eyebrows.

“No, I’m not. But this is,” he said, holding out the phone. Clay’s face paled.

“What?” “Your mom, Clay.

Faye. Remember her?” He tossed the phone on the couch beside Clay and walked to the door.

As he stopped at the door, turned and said, “You know that having sex with her won’t get back at Amanda, don’t you?” Clay didn’t answer and Jerome shut the door with a snap. Looking at the phone on the cushion beside him, Clay felt his stomach twist into knots.

His mom had heard that?

Closing his eyes and hating himself more than ever before, he picked up the phone.

“Mom, I—” “I don’t want to know, Clayton,” she said shortly.

“I tried your cell phone and it was off.

When I tried your room and was hung up on and then got busy signals, I was scared that something had happened to you.

Are you okay?” she asked, telling herself to calm down. “Yeah,” he said awkwardly.

“Mom, I’d really like to expl—” “There is no explanation.

I heard all I needed to hear,” she said, her voice tight.

“Who is she?” Clay rubbed the back of his neck.

“Her name is Rebecca.

She’s Kelly’s stylist.

Mom, please, you have to listen.

You have to belie—” “You know what I believe, Clayton?

I believe that when you sit back and think about what you just did, you’ll realize why I do not want to talk to you tonight.

I’ve never been angrier with you,” she said, her temper slipping.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to do to yourself, but I’m hoping you realize it soon and pull yourself together.” Her voice shook slightly as she continued, “I’m disappointed in you, Son.” Clay felt like she had punched him in the stomach.

Of all the people in his life, what his mother thought of him meant the most.

“Mom, I’m sorry. I don’t know…I just…I miss her so much and I wanted—” “No.

I don’t want to hear your excuses because there aren’t any.

I’m going to bed.

I suggest you do the same.

But I want you to think about the woman who’s sitting in L.A.

Right now. I can only imagine how this would make her feel,” she said, Amanda’s tearful voice echoing in her head. “Mom, she did the same—” “Goodnight, Clayton,” she said, hanging up the phone. At the same time in L.A. Amanda’s fingers tightened in Jeremy’s hair when he leaned her backward on the couch.

His mouth slipped off hers briefly, murmuring, “God, you taste good,” before he parted her lips hungrily and leaned into her again.

Something about his voice triggered a nerve in Amanda, but his kiss was so greedy and consuming that she forgot everything but the desperate craving running through her veins.

It felt like ages since anyone had kissed her like this.

When his hands skimmed over her stomach, slipping beneath her t-shirt, she flinched, pushing them away.

He complied, but his hands soon returned, this time reaching even further beneath her shirt and dipping inside her bra. She broke the kiss, pushing his shoulders gently.

“Jeremy, no,” she said quickly before he captured her lips roughly and pulled her down on the couch so that his hips were pressed against hers.

Amanda began to panic.

What had started out as a tentative kiss was becoming something quite different and it felt very one-sided.

She tried to push him away a little more forcefully, but he resisted, deepening the kiss and rolling his hips against her.

She whimpered uncomfortably, but he ignored her, sliding his hands along her sides and caressing her breasts through her shirt.

She smacked at his hands, pulling her mouth from his.

“No, Jeremy. Stop.” “Come on, Baby, you know you want it,” he breathed against her throat before moving upward and shoving his tongue into her mouth.

He lifted his head briefly.

“Don’t just lay there, Sugar.

Touch me,” he said, his voice harsh.

He reached for her hand as his mouth covered hers again, pulling it toward him.

She tried to pull free, but he covered her hand with his and forced her to rub over his obvious erection.

Amanda squirmed against him, completely disgusted. “Jeremy, I said no!

Let me up,” she said loudly, pushing him away.

He grabbed her wrists with one hand, holding them above her head tightly. “Stop fighting me,” he said tightly, using his other hand to push her shirt up over her breasts.

Leaning down, he dragged his tongue along the cup of her bra.

Amanda closed her eyes, afraid she was going to throw up.

He laughed, the sound twisting her insides.

“I’ll make you feel real good, Baby.

I promise.” As he continued to hold her hands, he reached for the button of her shorts.

Instinctively trying to stop him, Amanda bucked her hips.

With a sharp tug, Jeremy pulled the button free, ripping the garment, and slipped his hand inside her panties.

Amanda whimpered, begging him to stop, and tried to move away from him, but he was stronger than her.

Tears slipped down her face as shame washed over her.

He was rough with her, not caring that she was struggling against him, and she knew he was enjoying himself by the sound of his satisfied grunts every time he forced his fingers inside her more.

She winced with pain.

When he relaxed his grip slightly as he became distracted with what he was doing, she managed to free her hands and push him away enough to roll out from under him.

Scrambling up off the floor, she stood, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

He was off the couch in an instant, between her and the door.

If she tried to push past him, she knew he would catch her. “What is wrong with you?” she yelled, terrified and furious at the same time.

“I told you to stop!” She wrapped her arms around herself as she began to shake. Jeremy looked at her, his temper flaring dangerously.

“What’s wrong with me?

What’s wrong with you ?

Don’t tell me you don’t want it!” “I don’t!

I wanted to kiss you, not have sex with you!” “Don’t lie to me.

Your hot little body has been dying to get some.” She stepped back, shocked and appalled.

“What? Have you lost your mind?

I barely know you!” “Don’t act like you didn’t know what was going to happen when you invited me over for dinner tonight.

I saw the way you were looking at me at the track.

A girl like you gets restless and it’s been a while.

No shame in that, Baby,” he said, smirking. Amanda felt sick to her stomach.

How could he talk to her like that?

“I invited you over for dinner .

That’s all!” He reached for her and she jumped back.

“Stop it, Jeremy!

It’s not gonna happen!” He felt rage pour through his veins.

“Oh, it is going to happen.

I’ve waited too damn long for this.” He grabbed her arms and pulled her against him, running his hands over her hips and backside. Amanda squirmed and slipped away from him, shoving his shoulders.

“Stay away from me!

And what do you mean you’ve waited too long?

You just kissed me.” “You were giving me the go-ahead.

I felt it in the way your sweet body was pressing against mine,” he said in a low voice. “You’re sick!

You didn’t feel anything.” He reached for her again, pressing his erection against her.

“But you do, don’t you, Sweetheart?

Feel good to you?” Completely revolted, Amanda attempted to push him away.

When he tightened his grip on her and lowered his mouth to her throat, running his tongue along her jaw, she used every ounce of her strength to pull her arm free and shove him backward.

He staggered and fell against the couch, smacking his leg on the corner of her coffee table.

“Get out!” she screamed, scrambling to the door.

Before she could open it, he crossed the room and slammed her against the door with his body. “Damn you!” he said through gritted teeth.

Before Amanda could attempt to get away, he punched her with his balled up fist, throwing her off balance.

A sharp jolt of pain raced through her jaw, and Amanda went to her knees as he continued to hiss, “Why are you being so difficult?

Everyone already thinks we’re sleeping together!” Yanking her up off the floor, he pulled her against him again. He caught her attention.

Amanda’s eyes widened.

“What? Who thinks we’re sleeping together?” “Meredith, Bryan, Crystal.” He slipped his free hand beneath her t-shirt quickly, tugging on her bra roughly until the delicate fabric tore.

“Clay.” Amanda went perfectly still.

How did he know Clay’s name?

And how did he know Clay thought they had slept together?

A rush of adrenaline poured through her veins, momentarily eclipsing any pain or fear, and she moved her leg between his and raised her knee forcefully.

She missed slightly, but got close enough to send him to his knees with a loud curse.

She backed away from him on unsteady legs. “How do you know Clay thinks we slept together?” From his place on the floor, he swore violently.

Not thinking clearly, he admitted, “I told him.” Amanda’s mouth dropped open.

“You told him we slept together?

When?” “You were out.

He called. It was just as well.

He was no where near man enough for you.” Tears stung her eyes, her throat raw as she screamed at him.

“You’re not half the man he is!

You told him we slept together?” she asked again, her brain trying to register what she was saying, what had happened.

“How could you do that?

I love him! It’s your fault he hates me!

It’s your fault that he’s with someone else!” She walked over to his place on the floor and grabbed his t-shirt, pulling it tight against him.

“Why, Jeremy, why?

You knew I loved him!

Did you think if he was out of the picture you could have me?” He looked at her angrily, furious that she couldn’t see she was better off without that pansy.

“He’s a wuss, Amanda.

He doesn’t have a clue how to handle a woman like you.

I’m surprised he could even get it up.

You need a real man, not some sorry excuse for one that probably wouldn’t know what to do to make you happy or satisfied.

How many times did you have to fake it with him?” Amanda mentally thanked Jerome for her one and only self-defense lesson as she punched Jeremy in the face.

He fell backward, howling and cursing at her as his nose began oozing blood.

Spotting her cell phone on the table, she picked it up.

“Get out of my apartment.

Now . Before I call the police.” He lunged at her again, knocking the phone out of her hand.

It skidded under the couch across the room, and Amanda wondered if her neighbors would hear her if she screamed. Jeremy, his voice frighteningly smooth, wiped his face and shook his head.

“You’re not calling anyone.” She turned to grab the cordless phone off the table, and with a quick motion, he hooked his fingers through the belt loops on her shorts, spinning her around and pulling her flush against him.

“We’re finishing this.

Now.” Clawing at his fingers, Amanda managed to free herself, backing up until she knocked over a lamp on an end table.

Her cordless phone clattered to the floor, and she reached down to pick it up quickly.

“Get out.” With shaking fingers, she turned on the phone.

“I’m calling the police.” Jeremy closed in on her, trying to take the phone away from her.

Amanda hurried toward the door, flinging it open and yelling, “Rape!” before his fingers closed around her wrist, twisting it until the phone dropped to the ground. His face close to hers and his fingers digging into her upper arms painfully as he held her still, Jeremy hissed, “You little bitch.

You say another word and I’ll finish what I started right here on the front porch.” Wrapping a strong arm around her, he moved her just inside the doorway and pushed her against the wall roughly.

His body holding her motionless, he used his free hand to cover her mouth.

“Is that what you want?” Amanda shook her head, tears forming in her eyes again.

He was stronger than her.

Anything she tried, he would be able to overpower her.

Jeremy smiled slowly, lifting his hand to run a finger down her throat and inside her shirt, ripping it open.

Amanda’s eyes slid shut as he bent his head, his lips close to her ear.

“Maybe we can take some pictures for ol’ Clay.

I think he’d like that.

Or maybe a video.

Let Mr. Pop Star see his ex-girlfriend in her first skin flick.” He traced the curve of her ear with his tongue, his fingers fondling her breasts, and Amanda wondered if he would leave if she threw up on him.

His hand clamped over her mouth again as she whimpered.

Praying incoherently, she felt her skin crawl as he dragged his tongue over her throat and collarbone.

He was grinding his hips against her, breathing heavily in her ear, when the sound of a siren roared past her apartment.

It startled Jeremy enough that he lifted his head and moved away slightly.

It was enough, however, for Amanda to push his hand away and scream.

Jeremy saw a man walking through the parking lot pause, and Amanda started to scream again at the same moment.

Shoving her away, he ran down the few shallow steps of her porch and disappeared around the corner. Amanda scrambled to the door, slamming it shut and locking it with fumbling fingers.

Trembling, she leaned against the door.

Terror, shock, rage, and a deep sense of bitterness coursed through her.

Closing her eyes, she swallowed painfully.

That’s why Clay believed she had strayed.

Because that scum had told him so.

Hot tears running down her face, Amanda wrapped her arms around herself.

She shook her head, willing it to be a nightmare.

She’d lied to Clay about being with Jeremy.

And he’d taken that to mean she was hiding something far worse than she could have ever imagined.

Guilt twisted her stomach as she sunk to the floor, putting her head in her hands and sobbing.

“Clay, Honey, I’m so sorry,” she whispered brokenly, her shoulders shaking.

“I’m so, so sorry.”

Chapter 18 Clay stared at the phone in his hand, his jaw working furiously as he fought to control his runaway emotions.

If he could be perfectly quiet, he’d soon wake up and it would be another nightmare.

His brain was still attempting to process what had happened in the last few minutes, and he didn’t know when he had ever loathed himself more.

He’d been about to have sex with a woman who he barely knew, who he didn’t care for, who he knew was only using him.

He’d kissed her. He had let her give him a blow job.

He had even asked for it.

And God help him, he had enjoyed it.

He had wanted her.

There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that if Jerome hadn’t walked in, he’d have finished what he started.

And he would have hated himself even more as he pushed her out of the room when he was done. “Oh, God,” he groaned, putting his face in his hands.

“What am I doing?” Looking down, he realized he was still shirtless.

And his pants were still around his ankles.

Shame enveloped him.

Disgusted by sitting where he had been with her, he stood and pulled up his pants.

The entire suite sickened him.

Desperately needing to get out of the room, he grabbed his t-shirt and put it on before he pulled the first sweatshirt he saw out of his suitcase and picked up his room key and cell phone.

As the door shut behind him, the thought crossed his mind that he ought to tell Jerome he was going out.

The thought of facing his friend made his stomach turn, however.

Walking quickly past Jerome’s room, he avoided the elevator in lieu of taking the stairs.

He hurried down them, not caring how many floors he had to descend, and slipped out a side entrance.

He immediately braced his hands on his knees and took a deep breath, praying the lightheaded feeling that had overcome him would pass before he fainted.

He could still taste her.

He could still hear her whispering in his ear.

Bent over, he felt tears slipping down his face.

Coughing, he turned his head to wipe his face on his sleeve.

His mother’s disappointment washed over him again.

The hollow feeling in his stomach was almost painful. Standing upright, Clay leaned against the outside wall of the hotel and slid down it slowly until he was on the ground, his arms lying on his knees.

Using his thumb and ring finger, he rubbed his temples as he closed his eyes.

His mom had mentioned Amanda.

He couldn’t keep pushing the thoughts of her away.

Opening his eyes, he looked out at the dimly lit parking lot.

Instead of seeing the rows of cars, he saw Amanda’s face when he had told her that he had never loved her.

He had stared down into the face of the person he never wanted to hurt knowing that he had just hurt her terribly.

How could she have believed him?

Could she not tell that he loved her?

That he would have done anything for her?

You wouldn’t fight for her , his conscience reminded him.

You walked off. You gave up.

You say you still love her and yet you almost did exactly what she did .

His heart leapt into his throat.

The moment he had heard that she slept with Jeremy, he’d believed that she had never loved him.

She couldn’t have and done what she did.

It was what he had used to tell himself that it had to be over.

Yet he hadn’t stopped loving her – not at all – and he had almost had sex with Rebecca.

He would have still loved Amanda as completely as he ever had if Jerome hadn't interrupted them. Bitterness eating at him, he realized that they could have saved their relationship.

If he had listened to her – if he had just talked to her – he could still be with her.

All the sleepless nights and the tears and the anger – all the hurting could have been avoided.

Feeling his phone in the pocket of his sweatshirt, he thought of calling her.

He could tell her that he still loved her and they had too much worth saving to just let it go.

He could get a flight to L.A.

Right then. He didn’t have another show until Tuesday.

That would give him two days to convince her to take him back.

His heart racing, he took out his phone and scrolled to her number, staring at it.

It was almost two in the morning.

She’d be asleep. He thought of the countless times he had propped himself up on an elbow in bed and watched her sleep.

She never knew, but it was one of those times when he had been watching her that he had decided to ask her to marry him.

When he had looked down at her asleep next to him, he had known there wasn’t anyone else he wanted to be sleeping next to him.

Ever. Still staring at her number, he realized that she could very well be sleeping with Jeremy next to her at the moment.

He had pushed her away.

She probably sought comfort in the other man’s arms.

It had been a month.

If Jeremy really did remind her of him, what would keep her from falling in love with him – especially if he had been there to help her after Clay had told her he had never loved her and dumped her?

Leaning his head against the wall again, he looked up at the sky and slid his phone back into the pocket of his sweatshirt.

She wouldn’t want to talk to him.

He wouldn’t if he were her. Clay had thought, when he had talked to Jeremy, that he couldn’t feel any worse.

And then he had realized what he had been about to do with Rebecca, and he thought he had hit rock bottom.

But sitting in a darkened corner outside his hotel in Las Vegas, believing that the only woman he had ever loved was less than three hundred miles away, hating him, he realized he had been wrong. Since she had come home from New York after she and Clay had broken up, Amanda hadn’t cried enough to make herself sick.

At the moment, however, terror and guilt were washing over her, wave after wave, and she was afraid to move from her spot in front of the door for fear of throwing up.

She was terrified that Jeremy was going to come back, that he was lurking outside her door, and she was torturing herself with thoughts of what she could have done to save her relationship with Clay.

If she had just listened to him when he said he had a weird feeling about Jeremy.

Or if she had just told him the truth when he had asked her if Jeremy had been there.

He might have explicitly asked her if she had slept with Jeremy and would have told her what the other man had said on the phone.

If she had done that, she’d still be with him.

She wouldn’t be cowering in her own apartment, afraid to move.

Desperate to talk to someone, she picked up the cordless phone where Jeremy had knocked it out of her hand earlier and had her parents’ number half-dialed before she realized she couldn’t tell them what had happened.

She’d look stupid.

And pathetic. How could she have not seen what Jeremy was after?

There had to have been warning signs.

Clay had seen them – why hadn’t she?

Did I not want to see them?

She thought sickly.

Did I do this to myself?

Jeremy had believed – for some reason – that she would be receptive to his advances.

Maybe Clay had been right.

Maybe he couldn’t leave a girl like her alone without a man.

She stared at the phone.

Who could she call?

Clay . She’d always been able to talk to him like no one else.

Her fingers hovered over the first digit to call his cell phone.

He certainly wouldn’t want to talk to her.

He hated her. With good reason , she thought sadly.

Besides, he had probably settled very happily into a relationship with Rebecca.

Taking a deep breath, she dialed another number quickly. “Janice?

It’s Amanda. I’m so sorry to wake you, but I—” “I’ll be right over,” she said, hearing Amanda’s voice. As soon as Amanda opened the door to let her in, Janice knew this wasn’t because she couldn’t sleep.

Her friend was deathly pale, her shirt was ripped open to the waist, and Janice could see the beginnings of a nasty bruise on her jaw and cheekbone.

“What happened?” she asked, shutting the door and locking it. Amanda glanced back at the couch.

The pillows were still scattered on the floor where she had fought with him.

Feeling her composure slip again, she waved her hand toward the couch.

“Jeremy…he….I…” Janice grabbed Amanda’s hands and led her back to her bedroom, guessing that the living room was where…whatever…had happened.

Knowing Amanda would be mortified if she realized her shirt was hanging open and her ripped bra was showing, Janice handed her a t-shirt that was lying on the bed.

"Put this on, Sweetie." She did, and Janice sat on the bed beside her, putting her arm around Amanda’s shoulders.

“What happened with Jeremy?” Amanda’s eyes closed and Janice saw a tear slid down her cheek.

Without opening her eyes, Amanda spoke softly.

“He came to the track while I was running.

I waited on him to do his laps for the night and then he offered to pick up dinner and said we could come back here and eat.” She paused and took a deep, shaky breath.

“I don’t know what was wrong with me – I was looking at him and I was attracted to him,” she said brokenly.

“He’s always reminded me of Clay – his personality.” Her shoulders started shaking, and Janice tightened her arm, brushing Amanda’s hair off her face gently.

“I guess I was missing Clay too much tonight, and Jeremy was there and I…I…” she coughed amidst a sob, “I wanted him.” She had to pause for a moment before she could talk again, Janice’s hand moving soothingly over her back.

“He came back here and we ate and talked – and it was fine ,” she wailed.

“And then I took a shower and he wanted to take a shower, so I let him.

I knew something was wrong when he sat down next to me on the couch.

But then he was telling me how beautiful I was,” she said, her stomach turning.

“And how much he wanted to kiss me and how stupid Clay must have been to let me go.

He called me Darling ,” she said, her voice breaking.

“Then I kissed him,” she said, putting her face in her hands.

She kept them there for a moment, shaking her head, before she lowered her hands and stared at them.

“And I enjoyed it.

More than I expected to.” She looked off into space.

“It felt so good to be wanted again.” Janice watched her face contort as she said, “But then it changed.

It wasn’t sweet. He started touching me and moving faster than I wanted.

So I told him to stop.” She paused and swallowed, her voice shaking as she spoke.

“But he wouldn’t.

He wouldn’t stop.” She started crying harder then, and Janice felt her heart breaking even as anger toward Jeremy was running through her veins. “Honey, did he…” she trailed off, not wanting to say the word. Amanda shook her head violently.

“No, he didn’t rape me.

He didn’t get that far.

But he…he…” she closed her eyes, swallowing again, “he touched me - inside me.

He was holding my hands down!

I couldn’t stop him!” she cried, burying her face in her friend’s shoulder.

“I couldn’t stop him, Janice!” At that moment, if Janice could have found Jeremy, she’d have killed him with her bare hands.

As Amanda’s shoulders continued to shake while cried against her shoulder, Janice wondered what to do.

Number one, she wanted Amanda to call the police, but she had a feeling it was going to take some convincing to get her to do that.

She waited until Amanda had calmed down slightly and was trying to compose herself before she spoke.

“What happened next, Sweetie?” Amanda lifted her head and wiped her face, staring into space again.

“I managed to get away from him and we started arguing.” Her eyes closed.

“He said…horrible things to me and kept trying to pull me against him again.

He did…grope…me again, but never anything like before." "Is that when he gave you that black eye?" Janice asked quietly. Amanda lifted her hand, her fingers brushing over her jaw and cheek.

Her face was tender, and she dropped her hand.

"I don't know," she whispered.

"I can't remember.

It wasn’t what he was doing, Janice.

It was what he was saying." She paused.

“About Clay.” Janice’s brow furrowed.

“What?” Amanda turned and met her gaze and if Janice thought she couldn’t hate Jeremy more, she was wrong. “He told Clay that we slept together.

On the phone while I was out.

And then I lied to Clay about him being here,” she said flatly, looking away.

“So that’s why he accused me of cheating.

Because he thought he knew that I had.

And I gave him the reason,” she finished softly. “No, you didn’t,” Janice said quickly, trying to reassure her.

“I certainly see how that must have looked to him, but the bottom line is that he didn’t believe you and he did believe Jeremy.

And you didn’t do anything wrong!” She shook her head.

“Not then, maybe.

But he saw it in me.” “Who did?

Clay?” She closed her eyes.

“Maybe. But I was thinking of Jeremy.

What made him think he could do that me, Janice?” she asked quietly.

“What did I do?” Anger washing over her again, Janice shook Amanda’s shoulder gently.

“Listen to me – you didn’t do anything to make him think he could force himself on you.

Men like that – they don’t care what kind of vibe you’re giving off.

I’m surprised he waited this long.

He’s an ass. And a jerk.

And frankly, a criminal.” She took a deep breath.

“I think you should call the police.” Amanda’s eyes flew to hers.

“No! I can’t! They’ll call my parents!” she said irrationally. “No, Sweetie, they won’t.

You’re twenty-one.

They don’t have to call anyone.

But they can do something to that scumbag.” She shook her head.

“No. I just want it to go away.

If nothing else, I did want to kiss him.

It was practically consensual.” Janice pushed her anger aside, trying to be calm.

“Amanda, the minute you said no, he should have stopped.

Anything beyond that was not consensual.

Please let me call the police.” “They’ll arrest him!

He’ll kill me!” Her eyes widening suddenly, she grabbed Janice’s arm.

“Did you lock the door when you came in?” “Yes, I locked it,” she said soothingly, rubbing Amanda’s back again.

“They can do that, too – keep him from coming back tonight.

And they don’t have to arrest him – but you need to tell someone about this.” Amanda stood, wrapping her arms around herself.

“I just want it to go away,” she repeated, and Janice noticed she was shaking again.

“I just want to forget it happened,” she whispered, seemingly unaware that Janice was in the room.

She started to shake more violently and she sat down in the chair in the corner of her room.

“I was enjoying it, Janice!

God! What does that make me?” Janice stood and then crouched in front of the chair, her hand rubbing Amanda’s knee.

“You enjoyed it when he was kissing you, right?” She nodded.

“That’s normal. You didn’t enjoy it when he took it too far – even before he got violent, right?” She nodded again.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Sweetie.

Please, please don’t think that.” Amanda met her gaze and she looked so lost and vulnerable and hurt that Janice ached.

“Listen, is there someone I can call?

Do you want me to call Clay?” She immediately said no, but Janice saw the flare of longing in her eyes.

She wanted to be with him.

She wanted him to be the one to comfort her.

Because he was the only one who could, Janice realized.

He was the only one who could tell her that she in no way deserved what Jeremy had done to her.

And the only one who could tell her that he – God willing – still loved her.

“Are you sure?” she asked again. Amanda hesitated, but she nodded.

“I’m sure,” she whispered.

She leaned her head against her friend’s shoulder.

“He wouldn’t want me now, anyway.

Not after this.” Janice felt her own throat close with emotion.

This had to stop.

Amanda needed him.

And she’d wager – even though she hadn’t met him – that he needed Amanda.

Knowing that she couldn’t do anything about that tonight, she cleared her throat and put her hands on either side of her friend’s face.

“We’re going to do three things, okay?

First, I’m going to call the police.

At least report it.

You don’t have to press charges, but they can increase patrol around your apartment and keep an eye out for him in case he decides to come back.

Will you let me do that?” Amanda hesitated again, but finally nodded.

“Good, thank you,” Janice said, smiling slightly.

“After they get here and take your statement and leave, we’re going to get you in a hot shower.

And then you’re coming with me to my apartment for the night.

I don’t want you alone, and I’m going to have Mason stay with you tomorrow while I come back here and clean your apartment.

Fumigate it, figuratively speaking.

How does that sound?” Amanda sighed and leaned her head against Janice’s shoulder again.

She was quiet for a long time and Janice was afraid she was going to argue.

Finally, she asked softly, “Can you ask Mason to hit him for me?

I did, but I’d say he would do a better job.” Janice laughed.

“That’s my girl. And yes, I fully intend to ask him to do that.

You hit Jeremy?” She nodded, standing as Janice stood.

“I kneed him to get him away from me first and then I punched him in the face.” “What elicited the punch in the face?” she asked as she picked up the phone to call the police. “He asked me how many times I had to fake it with Clay,” she said, a hint of righteous indignation creeping into her voice.

“Asshole,” she said softly. Janice laughed again, louder this time.

“Come here,” she said, gesturing.

Amanda walked over and she hugged her tightly.

“I love you!” Janice said, kissing the top of her head.

“And I’m glad you called me.” Amanda felt her eyes filling with tears again, but at least they weren’t the same kind of tears.

“I’m glad you came.

I love you, too.” Janice kept her arm around Amanda as she dialed.

Before they picked up, she smiled and said, “Mind if I help Mason kick his ass?” Amanda laughed and Janice took her first easy breath since she walked into the apartment. Clay paused outside of Jerome’s room.

He had come back upstairs and gone to his own room where he had seen his friend’s phone still lying on the couch.

Since then, he had been arguing with himself whether to approach Jerome immediately or wait until the next day when they had both slept.

Realizing he wouldn’t be able to sleep and feeling the urge to right at least one relationship in his life, he had gone as far as Jerome’s door – where he now stood, staring at the brass room number.

Taking a deep breath before his courage deserted him, he raised his hand and knocked.

He heard Jerome moving around before the door finally opened. Jerome stared down at him, clearly not having been asleep.

“What?” Clay held out the cell phone.

“I wanted to bring this back.” His friend took it and started to shut the door before Clay stopped him.

“And I wanted to talk to you,” he added, not bothering to hide his nerves. “I don’t think you have anything to say that I want to hear right now,” Jerome said, but he loosened his grip on the door to allow Clay to push it open. “Just listen, okay?

I need to talk to someone.” Jerome turned his back to let Clay come into the room, but he said over his shoulder, “Call Rebecca.

If you can find her, that is.

Might want to check with some of the other guys.

See if she decided to keep them company after I so rudely interrupted the two of you.” “I wanted to thank you for that.

I was out of my mind, I—” Jerome turned around and faced him and Clay noticed something other than anger in his friend’s expression.

He was disappointed.

“You’re damn right you were out of your mind!” He stepped closer to Clay, putting his hands on the younger man’s shoulders.

“Not even considering what you were doing – but her?

You and I both know she’s along for the ride to see what it can get her – or who it can get her.” Clay swallowed, embarrassed.

“I know. I knew when I asked her in the room that she was trouble.

But I—” “I’ve been pretty tolerant of her thus far because she’s Kelly’s friend – only God knows why.

But I’m done with her.

I’m telling Kelly tomorrow that I want her gone,” he said, his mind in bodyguard mode.

“She’s dangerous.” “I’m not arguing with you!” Clay said, frustrated.

He didn’t need to be reminded of what he’d done.

He needed to talk about it. Jerome looked at him sharply, not liking his tone.

“I should think not.” He pinned the younger man with his stare for a moment.

“You screwed up, Clay.

Big time.” He sighed and sat down on the couch in Jerome’s room.

“I know that, too.” He looked up at his friend.

“Will you just let me talk, please?

You don’t have to convince me what I did was wrong – I know that.

I know that it was stupid and I certainly regret it,” he said bitterly. “Fine.

Talk.” “You’re still mad,” he pointed out, uncomfortable. “Yes, I am.

But I’m willing to listen to you.

An hour ago, I wouldn’t have.

So, talk,” Jerome said shortly, but he nodded his head for Clay to begin. Clay stared at him and then sighed heavily.

“Okay. First, I want to apologize,” he said sincerely.

“For a lot of things – not just tonight.

I know that I’ve been horrible for the past month and I’m sure you’ve wanted to kill me several times.” He glanced at Jerome and almost laughed when the other man nodded.

“I do apologize for tonight, though.

I never should have—” Jerome held up his hand, interrupting.

“The only thing you should apologize to me for about tonight is the fact that you put yourself in a very precarious position – which would mean that I was asleep on the job.

And the fact that you made yourself unavailable by shutting off your cell phone and then taking the phone off the hook.

You were right about one thing – you are twenty-five.

You can do whatever you want.

I’m not your mother.” He paused.

“But I am your bodyguard.

I’m also your friend,” he said, leveling his gaze.

“Did you stop to consider the fact that she could get pregnant or you could get a disease?

I didn’t see a condom – were you thinking at all , Clay?” He felt his face redden and fought the urge to look away, forcing himself to meet Jerome’s eyes.

“No. I wasn’t.” The other man nodded.

“Good. Glad you realize that.” “I wasn’t thinking of anything beyond what I…” he cleared his throat, “what I wanted at that moment.” “And I understand that,” Jerome said slowly.

He leaned forward where he had sat in an adjacent chair and leaned his elbows on his knees.

“Will you listen to me for a minute?” Clay nodded and he looked away before he continued, leveling his gaze again.

“You don’t have to explain to me why she was in your room.

Number one, it’s none of my business.” He paused.

“Well, it is my business because of the person you picked, but that’s beside the point.

Number two, I know how hard this break-up has been on you,” he cleared his throat, “and how it must have affected your pride.

But this isn’t the way to prove yourself, Clay.

I understand, but it’s not the way.” Thinking out loud, Clay asked, “Why didn’t you care when I slept with Amanda?

What if I had just been proving myself with her?” “First, I know you don’t care about the rumors, so you had nothing to prove.

Secondly, any fool could see that you weren’t just interested in getting what you wanted in the moment with her.

You loved her.” He paused and studied Clay’s face.

“You love her,” he corrected simply.

He let that statement hang in the air between them for a moment before he spoke.

“And thirdly, Amanda and Rebecca are completely different people – I knew I could trust Amanda.

Rebecca, on the other hand,” he leaned back in his chair, feeling his anger surge again.

“You better be praying she didn’t have a camera hidden somewhere and that you don’t end up seeing your face plastered on the cover of some tabloid.

That is part of the reason I was so angry with you when you pulled that stunt with her in Miami.” “You said it was because I was being a jerk,” Clay pointed out. “You were,” he said bluntly.

“But I also didn’t want you to give her any encouragement.

Like I said, I’ve never liked her, but as long as she didn’t make a move, I had no grounds to say anything – it was just a feeling and she worked for Kelly, so I kept quiet.

I had no idea you’d get to the point that you would make a move.” Clay leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes.

“God, I hate myself.” He opened his eyes after a pause and looked at Jerome.

“I really and truly loathe myself at this moment.” “You should.” He bristled slightly.

“You don’t have to be so blunt about it.” Jerome smiled slightly.

“To get anything through your thick skull, I do.” Clay smiled for the first time in what seemed like forever.

“Probably true.” He sighed again.

“You’re right, though.” “About what?” He looked at Jerome sadly.

“I still love her.” “And this is a revelation?” He ran his hand over the couch cushion.

“No, but it made me realize what a complete idiot I was – pushing her away.” “She cheated on you, though.” “Yeah.

But the reason I broke things off with her was because I couldn’t see how she could love me and be with him.

I almost did the same thing tonight.” He met Jerome’s gaze.

“And I love her just as much as I ever have.” “Could you have stayed with her, knowing that she had been with Jeremy?” Clay paused.

“It would have been brutal.

I would have still been devastated, but I would still want to be with her.

If I knew that, despite what she did, she still loved me, we could have made it.” Jerome nodded.

“You know that now?” “Yes.” He met his friend’s eyes.

“You have no idea how cruel I was to her, Jerome.

The things I said to her,” he said, closing his eyes and wincing.

“Even if I could work up the courage to actually call her or see her, she’d never speak to me.

I’m sure she hates me.” Jerome was dubious, but he remained silent.

Clay was lost in his own thoughts for a moment.

“I’d do anything to get her back,” he said finally.

“Even if just for one night.

I just want to tell her that I lied when I said I never loved her.

She’s probably moved on, but I want her to know that.” “Then you could walk away?” Clay stared at him.

“If I had to, yes.” “And if she wanted you back?” “I’d be the luckiest man in the world,” he said softly. After a long pause, Jerome sighed and stood.

“You need to sleep.

And so do I.” Clay nodded, standing.

“I feel like I need to apologize to Rebecca.” His friend looked shocked.

“Why?” “For leading her on.

Is that crazy?” Jerome stared at him for a moment before shaking his head.

“No, it’s not crazy.

Just proves to me that you’re still the man I thought you were.” Clay felt his throat close with emotion.

“Thanks.” Slightly uncomfortable, Jerome shrugged.

“Get to bed – you can apologize in the morning.” Clay started to go and stopped with his hand on the doorknob.

He turned back to Jerome.

“Can we manage a flight to Raleigh tomorrow or Monday?

I mean…today or Monday?” “Why do you need to go to Raleigh?” “Mom.” Jerome nodded.

“We’ll work it out.

‘Night.” Jerome waited outside the door until he saw Clay disappear into his own room.

He stared down the hall a while longer before he went back inside, lost in thought. Amanda opened her eyes slowly, feeling as if she were in a fog.

Her bed was smaller than it should be.

Wondering how her bed could have shrunk, she realized a split-second later that she was in Janice’s apartment.

And then she remembered why she was there and turned her face into her pillow as her stomach churned.

It had been after four before the police had left and then once she had been in the shower, she couldn’t seem to get out.

No matter how hard she scrubbed, she couldn’t get the feeling of Jeremy’s hands and mouth off her skin.

She had collapsed in Janice’s guest bedroom around six that morning when her body had finally given in to exhaustion.

A glance at the nightstand told her it was now four in the afternoon.

Pushing herself up in the bed reluctantly, she pulled her knees to her chest and looked at the opposite wall blankly.

Janice had offered her a sleeping pill earlier that morning – afraid that she wouldn’t be able to relax enough to fall asleep.

She hadn’t taken it, afraid it would make her groggy when she awoke.

At the moment, she wished she had taken it – it would be a relief to be dazed.

She looked up as she heard a soft knock at the door. “You can come in – I’m up,” she said softly. Mason poked his head inside the room.

“Want any company?” She smiled.

“Sure.” He walked over and sat down on the bed next to her and patted her foot.

She and Mason weren’t exceptionally close, but she liked him.

It was obvious he adored Janice, and he always made Amanda laugh.

“How’re you?” she asked out of habit. “I’m fine,” he said, meeting her gaze.

“How did you sleep?” “Better than I expected to.” Mason had been there when Janice and she had gotten home.

She assumed Janice had filled him in after she had gone to bed.

“Is Janice still asleep?” He shook his head.

“No, she got up around one and went over to your apartment.

Said she was going to clean it for you.” Amanda sighed.

“She should have woken me up – I could have helped.” He smiled.

“I think that’s why she didn’t – so you wouldn’t help.

Can I get you anything?

Something to eat?

Are you thirsty?” Her stomach churned again at the thought of food.

“No, I’m fine. Don’t feel much like eating.

Some water, maybe?” He smiled, glad to be of help.

“Be right back.” Amanda watched him go, her mind blissfully blank.

She was concentrating on breathing so that she wouldn’t dwell on the status of her life at the moment.

If she really thought about it, she knew she would break down again.

Thankfully, Mason returned with a bottle of water and continued to chat with her.

When he began discussing inane topics such as his chemistry lab partner and how good the basketball team’s last game had been, she could have hugged him.

The conversation lulled a while later and she caught herself thinking too much.

Mason noticed her expression change and touched her knee.

“Hey, how about I unhook the DVD player from the living room and bring it in here?

We can watch our favorite movie since Janice hates it,” he said, referring to their shared love of Dumb & Dumber . Amanda laughed.

“That sounds great, but don’t go to any trouble.” “It’s no trouble,” he said quickly, hurrying out of the room to get the player.

When Janice came home a couple hours later, she saw Mason shut the bedroom door and tiptoe down the hallway, a bowl in his hand. She tossed her keys on her kitchen table.

“How is she?” Mason looked up and smiled, stopping to kiss her lightly.

“She just fell asleep again.

We watched a movie and I managed to get her to eat some popcorn.” “Is that all she’s eaten today?” He nodded.

“She said she didn’t feel like eating.” He put the bowl in the sink and walked back into the living room where she was standing.

“She did look in the mirror when she went into the bathroom, though.” “Does it look worse?” Janice asked, referring to Amanda’s face and jaw. “Son of a bitch must have punched her really hard.” Much like his girlfriend, Mason was ready to kill Jeremy if given the opportunity. “How did she react?” “She walked back in the bedroom, and I could tell she had seen her face.

She didn’t say anything for a few minutes and I asked her if she was okay.

She said something about him leaving his mark, and said she didn’t want to talk about it.” Janice sighed, and he changed the subject.

“How did cleaning go?” “I finished.

That place is spic and span.” She sat down on the couch, tired.

“I talked to her neighbor like the police suggested – told her to be on the lookout for anyone lurking around outside.

And I bought a timer for Amanda’s porch light so it would come on at dusk.” He sat down beside her, pulling her feet into his lap and massaging them gently.

“How are you ?” he asked, concerned.

After Amanda had fallen asleep that morning, Janice had broken down – angry and unsure of what to do. She shrugged.

“Still want to kill Jeremy.

And I still think Amanda should call Clay.” “She’s dead set against it?” She sighed, leaning back on the arm of the couch.

“She was last night.

When she got out of the shower, she was nearly hysterical again.

That’s why it took us so long to get here after I called you when the police left.

She just kept reliving it and torturing herself with asking why he thought he could do that to her.

I asked her again if I could call Clay and she made me promise not to.” Mason was quiet for a moment.

“I can’t imagine.” “Imagine what?” she asked, looking at him. “If something like that had happened to you – and I didn’t know.

If you were hurting and scared and I wasn’t doing anything to comfort you.

It would kill me.” She smiled.

“I’m hoping she’ll come around eventually – when it’s not so fresh in her mind.” He nodded, watching her yawn.

“You need to sleep – you’re exhausted.” “I know,” she said, looking down at her hands.

“Did she seem as…scared today?” “She was quiet.

Didn’t say much at all.

I tried to talk as much as possible to keep her mind occupied.” “That’s the thing – I don’t know what is best.

I don’t know if she needs to talk about it or if she should concentrate on moving on and forgetting about it.” He shook his head.

“I don’t know, either.” She sighed, rubbing her temples.

“I do need to sleep.” She dropped her hand and looked at him.

“You coming?” He smiled.

“You go ahead. I’ll clean up in here and be there in a few minutes.” He leaned over and kissed her, his hand cupping the side of her face.

When he pulled back, he rubbed his thumb over her cheek.

“I love you so much." She smiled.

“I love you, too," she said, kissing his cheek before she stood.

He watched her walk down the hall before he stood and washed what few dishes were in the sink.

By the time he finished and had shut off the lights and locked the door, she was already asleep.

Smiling at her sleeping form, he slipped in beside her and pulled her against him, kissing the back of her neck softly.

A few hours later, he sat up with a start when he heard a cry from the other room.

Janice jerked awake at the same time and scrambled out of bed before he could even register what had happened.

He went to the door a moment later and could hear Amanda’s voice mixed with sobs. The door was partially open and he moved to where Janice could see him.

She was sitting on the bed, her arms around her friend.

She met his gaze briefly and shook her head, indicating that he couldn’t help.

He went back to bed, but he couldn’t sleep.

Nearly an hour later, he heard the bedroom door shut across the hall and then Janice stepped back into their room.

She climbed in bed beside him and he immediately pulled her into his arms. “She had a nightmare,” Janice whispered.

“He finished what he started.” He shook his head, his stomach knotting.

“Is she asleep?” She nodded.

“I gave her a sleeping pill and waited until it took effect.” She closed her eyes, sighing shakily.

“I can’t stand to see her this terrified.” “It will get easier with time, won’t it?” Janice was quiet for a moment.

“Probably. But it won’t go away with just time.”

Chapter 19 Faye wiped her hands on a dishtowel after she washed them.

She had just checked on her meatloaf and was about to start on her mashed potatoes when the doorbell rang.

She glanced at the clock, wondering who was dropping by so close to dinnertime.

Not thinking to see who it was first, she opened the door and felt her heart jump into her throat. “Clayton!” He was standing on her front porch, his hands in the pockets of his coat.

It was late March but had turned cold again. “Can I come in?” he asked, his voice flat. She hurt for him.

He was mortified.

“What kind of a question is that?

Get in here,” she said, ushering him inside.

She noticed Jerome sitting in a car in the driveway.

“What about Jerome?” Clay glanced behind him at his friend.

“He was just going to wait until I was inside and then leave us for a while.

He’ll go back to the hotel.” Faye shut the door behind him, watching him pull off his coat and hang it up in the hall closet.

He’d lost weight, she noticed.

When he turned to face her and she got a good look at his eyes, she felt her lingering ire dissolve.

He was clearly angry enough with himself.

He didn’t need her anger as well.

Mother and son continued to stare at one another in the hallway until Faye asked, “Have you eaten?” Clay’s brow furrowed, but he shook his head.

“No.” “I was late starting dinner, so neither have I.

Meatloaf and mashed potatoes sound good to you?” “Um, sounds fine.

Where’s Brett?” “Amy’s – he’ll be home by eleven.” Clay raised his eyebrows.

“With school tomorrow?

I had to be home by ten.” “She’s been sick lately, so they haven’t seen each other.

He’ll go to bed as soon as he gets home.” She gestured toward the kitchen.

“Come in here and sit down.” He did so, sliding into a chair at the kitchen table while she pulled out her potato masher. “Homemade mashed potatoes?” he asked. “They’re the best,” she said automatically, carrying the pot of boiled potatoes to the counter.

She started on her potatoes, not looking at him.

“When did your flight get in?” Clay watched his mom, wondering how many times he had sat at that kitchen table and talked with her as she cooked.

“About an hour ago.

We checked in at the hotel and then Jerome drove me over here.

How was your day?” She was silent, working, until she finally looked up at him.

“Horrible. Yours?” “One of the worst of my life,” he admitted, his eyes searching hers.

Standing, he walked to the counter and braced his hands on it, staring at her.

“Mom, I know I did a stupid thing.

Probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.” “You’ll get no argument from me on that, Clayton,” she said, continuing to mash her potatoes and adding milk periodically.

“Do you care about this girl?” He shook his head.

“Not at all. I don’t even like her.” “Then why?” she asked, looking up again. “You want the honest answer or the slightly-less-disgusting answer?” “Both, but the honest one first.” “Honestly – to make myself feel like a man again.

Soothe my wounded pride with a willing woman.” His mom winced, but he continued.

“The slightly-less-disgusting answer is that I missed Amanda terribly and I wanted someone to want me again.” Faye was silent, digesting that information.

She knew it made sense for a man, but this was her son .

“And sleeping with that woman would help you not miss Amanda?” “No, it wouldn’t have helped.

In fact, it made me miss her even more.” Hope flared in Faye’s chest.

“You miss her still?” Clay’s eyes darkened sadly.

“Yes.” Faye waited for him to continue and then realized he wasn’t going to make this easy for her.

“Do you still love her, Clayton?” “I love her more ,” he whispered, swallowing.

“Now I see what I threw away.” “What about what she did?” He shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter.” Faye fought the urge to hug him, wanting him to continue.

“Does it still kill me that she’s been with someone else?

Of course. But it doesn’t change the fact that she’s the only woman I ever want to be with.” Faye smiled.

“Then what are you doing here?

Why aren’t you in L.A.?” “Just because I love her doesn’t mean she loves me.

I said some horrible things to her, Mom.

If she was mildly interested in Jeremy before, she probably loves him now.

I’m sure he swooped in after I tossed her aside.” Her heart fell.

“You don’t know that, Clayton.

What if she’s hurting just as much as you are?” He shook his head.

“I know Amanda. She’d have called me by now.

She’s stubborn, Mom.

She stood there in Long Island and told me that she didn’t sleep with him even when I knew that she did.

She wanted to be with me enough then that she would lie.

If she really wanted to be with me, she’d have done something by now.” Faye remembered how angry Amanda had seemed the last time they talked.

She was hurt, yes, but hurt had been turning into resentment.

And there still remained the fact that Clay hadn’t believed her.

Frustrated, she started mashing potatoes again, trying to think of a way to convince Clay to go after Amanda.

“What if you called her?

If she didn’t want to talk to you, you’d soon find out.” He shook his head.

“I don’t think I can handle her hanging up on me.

And I’m not gonna pour my heart out over the phone.

When the tour is over, I’ll find a way to see her again and at least tell her…at least say a few things I need to say before I start to move on.” “Move on?” Faye asked, alarmed. “I can’t have her, Mom.

I screwed it up.” Faye started to interrupt and he held up his hand.

“I love her, but I also see how horribly our relationship has fallen apart.

It’s in too many pieces to ever be put back together at this point.” “You don’t believe that,” Faye said, angry with him again.

“If you believed that, you would be trying to move on already.

You just said you still love her.

You wouldn’t be thinking about seeing her again and telling her whatever you want to tell her if you didn’t think there was a chance she would forgive you.” He met her gaze solemnly.

“I never said I intended to stop loving her, Mom.” “What does that mean?” “It means I realize that I may love her the rest of my life.

I just won’t be with her.” “Clayton, it doesn’t have to be that way!” His eyes tired, he said, “But that’s the way it is, Mom.” He stared at her for a long moment in silence before he pushed away from the counter.

“I don’t really feel like eating.

I think I’m going to call Jerome and have him pick me up.” “You’re not staying here?” He thought of his bed upstairs where he had slept with Amanda.

“No. I have to catch a plane back to California in the morning, anyway.” He stepped into the living room to call Jerome and she was waiting for him when he returned. “So you came to tell me that you know you were wrong and that you still love the woman you’re not willing to fight for?” she asked, irritated. “I would fight for her if I thought that winning would bring her back to me.

But it won’t, Mom!

She’s gone!” he said, his voice wavering.

He took a deep breath before he continued.

“I just wanted to talk to you face-to-face.

You know that what you think means more to me than anything.

I don’t want you to be disappointed in me.” Faye studied his face, loving him and wanting to shake him.

“I won’t lie, Clayton, I’m disappointed in you because of your behavior last night.

But I see that you realize what you did was wrong, and I think you’re punishing yourself enough for both of us.

I’m disappointed in you that you’re not willing to try just a little harder to save what you have with Amanda.” “ Had , Mom.

What I had with Amanda.

And what am I supposed to do?

Beg her to love me?

It’s not that easy, and you know it.

All I can do now is find a way to deal with it and find a way to get on with my life.” She stared at him, realizing again that it was useless talking to him.

He’d made up his mind that he had to be miserable without Amanda.

She sighed finally, shaking her head.

“I love you, Son.

I want you to be happy, and I think you’re missing your chance to do so.” He managed a small smile.

“I love you, too, Mom.” He stepped closer and wrapped her in a hug, kissing the top of her head.

“You have to learn at some point that I have to make my own decisions.” “I let you make your own decisions and what do you do?

You lose the woman who is perfect for you and then refuse to try to get her back.” He sighed, pulling back.

“Can we please stop arguing about this?

I need your support right now.” “And you know you have it,” she said, making him lean over so she could kiss his cheek.

“Just think about what I said, okay?” He nodded and she knew he was merely pacifying her.

“Are you sure you won’t stay here tonight?” “I’m sure.

We barely had time to fly here.

It’s just Jerome and I, anyway.

Even Raleigh stayed behind with John.” She walked him to the door, watching him pull on his coat.

“What time does your flight leave?” “Nine in the morning.

I’ll call you when we land.” “Thank you,” she said, opening the door so they could see Jerome pull in.

He did so a few minutes later and she pulled Clay closer for another hug, her arms tightening around him.

“I love you,” she said again as she squeezed him one last time. He smiled and kissed her cheek.

“I love you.” He stepped onto the porch and lifted his hand in a wave as his eyes met hers again.

He looked less haggard than when he had arrived, but he still looked haunted and sad.

She watched him turn and get into the car with Jerome, standing at the door until they had backed out of the driveway.

Closing the door, she sighed as she turned the lock.

There wasn't a doubt in Faye's mind that Clay and Amanda could find their way back to one another again - if only they would. Present – San Francisco “Hey, it’s me,” Amanda said into the phone.

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” Janice sat back on the couch in her apartment.

“I was just putting my shoes on to go for a run.

What are you doing up at five a.m.?” “Why do you think?” she asked softly.

Knowing Janice woke up early to work out, Amanda had made herself wait two hours before calling her friend. Janice sighed.

“Which one?” “Clay wasn’t in it,” she said, relieved.

She usually had two different nightmares: one where Jeremy raped her – the one she had had that morning – and another where he did so and when she went to Clay for help, he told her she had deserved it. “You’re not having that one as often, are you?” Janice asked, referring to the one with Clay. “No, thankfully,” she said, tracing the grain of the wood on the kitchen table with her fingernail.

“I knew I was going to have one because I didn’t last night.

I hadn’t had one in two days.” Janice was silent for a moment, feeling helpless so far away.

She couldn’t stop the nightmares when Amanda was home, but at least she could be with her.

“How are you doing now?” “I came downstairs and made coffee.

I was afraid to go back to sleep.” “Why don’t you take a sleeping pill tonight so you can rest?

You’re going out today, right?

You’ll be tired when you get home.” Before Amanda had left for San Francisco, Janice had made her promise that she wouldn’t stay in the house all weekend. “The pills just knock me out so badly.” She sighed, standing and walking into the kitchen to fill her coffee cup again.

“I don’t know which is worse – the nightmares or feeling drugged when I take a sleeping pill.” Adding some milk to her coffee, she answered Janice’s other question.

“I don’t know if I’m up to sightseeing today.” “It would probably make you feel a hundred percent better, Sweetie – get your mind off things.” “I know,” she said, sitting back down at the table.

“I just don’t know if I’m up to it.” She took a sip of her coffee.

“How’s your paper coming along?” she asked, changing the subject. “I finished it last night,” her friend said, knowing Amanda had made up her mind about sightseeing that day.

She wouldn’t leave the house.

“Class just isn’t the same without you, Amanda.” She stood, tucking her leg beneath her before sitting back down.

“I can’t go back, Janice.” She hadn’t been to class the week before – not since the night Jeremy had attacked her – and she had no intention of going back.

All she had to do was fill out the paperwork to formally withdraw.

There was no way she could sit in class with Jeremy or walk around campus knowing he was there somewhere – lurking. The conversation lulled, and Janice brought up another subject she knew Amanda didn’t want to discuss.

“Have you talked to your parents?

Have you talked to anyone about what happened?” Amanda shook her head quickly.

“No. I’m not telling anyone else.” Janice softened her voice.

“Trust people, Amanda.

Your family and your friends love you.” Silently, she added, and you should tell the person you really want to tell.

You should tell Clay .

She knew Amanda would only say no if she suggested it again. She fingered a silk flower sticking out of the arrangement in the middle of the table.

“What will they think of me?” she asked in a small voice. “The same thing I do – that you were incredibly brave to do what you did by punching him and getting away from him.

And that you’re understandably having a hard time moving on.” “But I instigated it, Janice,” she said, her voice thickening with tears. Her friend sighed.

That had been the hardest part – trying to convince her that she hadn’t brought this on herself.

“You know that’s not true.” Amanda shook her head sadly, wiping her face with her free hand.

“I need to go,” she said tightly.

“Maybe I can go back to sleep.” Janice mentally berated herself for pushing too hard.

She wasn’t helping.

“Try to do that. And eat something.

For me, okay? You don’t need to lose any more weight.” Amanda chuckled, sniffling.

“Is that a subtle way of telling me I look like crap?” “It’s a very obvious way of telling you that I love you.” She paused.

“I love you, Sweetie.” Taking a shaky breath, Amanda shook her head.

“I don’t know why.” Janice smiled.

“I don’t need a reason.

Now get some sleep.

And food. Deal?” “Deal.” Her finger curled around the handle of her mug.

“ Thanks, Janice – for listening to me whine.” “You’re not whining, Sweetheart.

And no thanks necessary.

Bye-bye.” “Love you.

Bye,” she said, hanging up.

Leaving her mug on the table, she walked upstairs.

The house was huge compared to her apartment.

With only the sound of her shuffling footsteps breaking the silence, Amanda had never felt more alone as she pushed the bedroom door open.

Something made her stop as she passed by the mirror above the dresser.

She stared at her reflection for a moment, hating the dark circles under her eyes and the defeated expression in them.

It doesn’t matter what I look like anymore, anyway , she thought sadly.

Turning away from the mirror, she climbed back in bed and turned on her side.

Pulling the sheet up around her neck, she used the edge to wipe a stray tear.

Maybe Janice was right.

Maybe she should talk to someone.

The problem was, the only person she wanted to talk to didn’t want to talk to her . Clay looked out the window of his bedroom in L.A., unable to sleep.

He’d woken up at five and had tossed and turned for an hour before he’d given up and gotten out of bed.

He was home due to the fact that he had a show in L.A.

The next evening and he had soon discovered that the restless longing he’d felt the last time he had been home was nothing compared to what he felt now.

Not only did he know that she was a scant two miles away, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wanted to be with her.

The thought passed through his mind that he could go see her – all she could do was slam the door in his face.

He sighed. Yeah, all she could do was slam the door in his face.

And break his heart all over again.

He reminded himself that he’d had as a big a role in creating this situation as she had.

Clay glanced over his shoulder as Raleigh whined behind him. “You want to get out of the house, too?” he asked, smiling at her gently.

If he didn’t know it was crazy, he’d have sworn that even the dog was unhappier since Amanda had been out of their lives.

She seemed to whine more, that was for sure.

He smiled, remembering the countless times he’d dropped off Raleigh on his way to work only to find both of his girls asleep on the couch when he returned.

The only girl he had left was currently sniffing around on the floor, no doubt looking for one of his stray socks to demolish.

He walked over and picked her up, letting her lick his chin as he carried her downstairs and found her leash.

A few minutes later, not having bothered to change into real clothes, he got in the car and settled her between himself and the door.

“We’ll get out and walk in a minute,” he said, scratching her head.

He turned the radio off, knowing that every song was going to remind him of her – they always did.

Not trying to push away the heavy feeling in his chest, he drove slowly.

He was in no hurry, knowing exactly where he was going. Amanda pushed the covers back on the bed, sitting up groggily.

The sleeping pills always left her a bit confused when she first woke up.

She rubbed her face as she walked to the bathroom down the hall, intending to take a shower.

When the water hit her face, she woke up more fully, dreading the inevitable rush of emotions that hit her when she was conscious.

She read the shampoo bottle as she washed her hair, trying to fill her mind with trivial information to keep it occupied.

By the time she sat down on the edge of the bed, her brush in hand and her hair still wet and dripping, she’d run out of distractions.

At home she could go running or driving or clean to keep herself busy.

In a silent, unfamiliar house in an unfamiliar city, she was left with only her tortured thoughts.

She stared at her brush, suddenly overwhelmed with the effort it would require to dry her hair.

Dropping it on the floor, she lay back down on the bed.

She would change the sheets before she left, anyway.

It wouldn’t matter if she got them wet.

She glanced at the bottle on her nightstand, knowing she couldn’t take another pill for a few hours.

Rolling onto her back, she stared up at the ceiling and shivered as her hair pressed against the back of her neck and made her t-shirt adhere to her already clammy skin.

I shouldn’t have come , she thought sadly.

It’s no better here and I should have known running away wouldn’t solve my problems .

Even though she was far away from Clay, he was still too close for her to hide from the fact that if things were how they should be, she would have been with him.

They had planned on her going to all the west coast shows – traveling on the bus, even.

He had joked about having to learn to restrain himself – that those bunks weren’t very accommodating if they wanted to make love.

She remembered because he had grinned when he said "if." She had been looking forward to sharing his crazy life on the road.

Briefly, she wondered how Rebecca was sharing his life.

And if they had figured out how to make love in the bunk. As she rolled onto her stomach, pulling her arm against her side, Amanda told herself she would not cry.

The wall she had put up around herself after the break-up had come crashing down the moment Jeremy had left her apartment.

Before then, she could console herself with the fact that she hadn’t done anything wrong – Clay had simply stopped loving her.

She could blame him.

Janice had told her time and time again that it was Jeremy who she should be angry with, not herself.

But when she thought about the month leading up to her trip to New York, she saw each and every moment that she should have listened to Clay, each and every moment that she should have seen what Jeremy was doing.

She had no one to blame but herself in her own mind.

Not only had she not pushed Jeremy away, she had encouraged him.

As she closed her eyes, she could practically feel Jeremy pressed against her.

Intermingled with that image was one of she and Clay – the reassuring feel of his body, his gentle touch.

Feeling a sob rise in her throat, she tortured herself with the second image, telling herself she would never have it again. By the time Janice called to check on her a few hours later, Amanda was asleep and the cap was off the bottle on her nightstand.

The ringing phone barely invaded her sleep, and she rolled over, ignoring it. Clay wrapped Raleigh’s leash around a tree, hooking it on itself.

She whined, wanting to run and explore, but he knew his heart couldn’t take it.

He patted her head gently before standing up and glancing at the edge of the cliff.

There was a bit more vegetation than there had been the last time he’d been there.

It had only been a little over two months since Amanda and he had been there.

He had never expected to come back alone.

Walking closer to the edge, he stuck his hands in the pocket of his sweatshirt.

The wind had picked up and his hair tickled his forehead, but he barely noticed.

He didn’t have to turn around to see the exact spot where they had lain the first time he brought her there.

That had also been the day she had admitted she loved his hands.

A small, bittersweet laugh left his lips at the memory.

He’d never considered holding hands with a woman to be an intimate act until he had met Amanda.

Her palm pressed to his, her thumb rubbing back and forth across his wrist, the way her fingers wrapped around his, the softness of her skin, the way he could feel her pulse throbbing if he concentrated closely.

Before Amanda, a woman's pulse had never made his pulse race.

He’d teased her once – much later – about his ability with his hands, attempting to get a rise out of her.

He had assumed that she had only a physical reaction to his touch.

She had shaken her head, disagreeing with him.

Not meeting his eyes, she had taken his hand and traced his palm, asking him why he thought people pressed their palms together when they prayed, why an open palm was a sign of surrender.

She had looked up to say that when he held her hand, she felt more connected to him than most any other time.

To her, it conveyed the fact that he was willing to be vulnerable to her and she to him.

More than anything, her hand in his was a reminder of how much she trusted him.

She had trusted him to love her, and he had failed.

She had trusted him not to hurt her and he’d deliberately done so. Raleigh barked sharply behind him, breaking into his thoughts.

He turned and laughed softly when she wagged her tail happily, having gotten his attention.

He walked over and sat down gingerly beside her, noticing that the ground was still a bit damp from the dew.

She scrambled onto his lap, eagerly licking his face to indicate that she wanted to play.

He rubbed her ears gently, earning even more happy kisses.

She spotted a bug making its way across the grass and soon left him, finding its progress more entertaining.

He watched her for a moment before leaning his head against the tree behind him.

The longer he sat there, the heavier his chest seemed to get.

He hated feeling helpless.

A nagging voice told him that he wasn’t exactly helpless, that he could try to do something.

Pulling a blade of grass out of the ground, he slowly shredded it while he argued with himself. When he looked down and saw his pajamas covered with grass, he stood and brushed them off before walking to his car.

His legs felt like lead as he walked over and opened the passenger door.

He leaned over the seat and picked up his cell phone, wiping the screen off with his thumb absently.

Still standing in the open door, he slowly scrolled to her number.

Sending up a silent prayer that if it were meant to be, she’d talk to him, he pushed the button and lifted the phone to his ear with shaking fingers.

His heart was pounding so loudly that he could barely concentrate on listening to the phone ring.

When her answering machine picked up, his breath caught at the sound of her voice.

She hadn’t changed the message.

How many times had he called to leave her silly messages?

More than once, he’d called three times to leave three messages consisting of one word each – I , love , and you .

She had pretended to fuss at him for filling up her answering machine, but he had seen the way her eyes softened when she checked her messages and he was there to watch.

He suddenly realized that the machine had already beeped and he was supposed to be leaving a message.

Opening his mouth, he wondered what on earth to say.

I’m sorry? I love you?

He didn’t want to say either via an answering machine.

As he heard the machine click off, he released his breath in a rush.

Feeling weak, he leaned over the seat, his forehead against the leather.

What would he have done if she had answered?

Probably the same thing he did with the machine – say nothing.

He wasn’t ready to face her – even over the phone – he realized.

Sighing, he stood up and mechanically unhooked Raleigh’s leash and climbed back in the car.

When he walked in the house a while later, putting her down and letting her run across the floor to her food and water bowl, he contemplated going back to bed.

Sleeping was preferable to sitting there hating himself.

And missing her.




Omgili Home About FAQ Plugins Usenet