He snorted. “Maybe I’ll think about that when I’m forty.” He ate for a moment in silence before he looked at me. “And you? What’s your plan?”

I chewed a mouthful of chicken and bell pepper. It was spicy, flavorful and tender. I shrugged. “I told you, I don’t date. If I don’t date, I’m never going to meet that special guy—especially since I don’t believe he exists in the first place. I’m going to live a life devotedly single and on my own terms. It was good enough for my mom.”

“But your mom had you.”

I thought about that for a moment. “Sure. We got along, mostly. Sometimes more like sisters than like mother and daughter. If I ever have the desire to become a mother, there are options for that, too, that don’t require a man.”

He didn’t say anything in reply and we finished our lunch soon thereafter. He took a phone call that came in, handling some new crisis during the length of our walk back to my place. I walked beside him, silent but for the squeaking of the Styrofoam box that carried my leftovers.

At my doorstep, he ended the call, shoving the phone in his pocket. “Emilia, will you come to the party with me on Friday?”

I raised a brow. “I’ve been wondering when you were going to ask me, seeing as you already volunteered me to be your ‘plus one.’”

“I’m asking you now.”

I took in a deep breath, knowing that I probably shouldn’t. “I don’t think—”

“I’ve been waiting to see you in the red one.” He meant the red dress—the one I hadn’t worn yet. I’d kind of been wondering what it would look like as well.

Maybe I could get away with this by not telling Heath. I knew what he’d say. He’d say the exact same thing that tiny whisper of rationality at the back of my head was saying. Tell him no. You’re already giving him more than one night.

I took a deep breath. “Okay.” Geez. Sometimes I just seemed determined to go against everything in my better judgment. And lately, every one of those decisions somehow involved this man.

“I’ll see you Friday,” he said stepping away as if afraid I’d change my mind if he lingered on my doorstep.

I watched him go, headed back into Old Towne to get his car. A knot twisted in my chest. This was dangerous. I was in too deep. And he was in control, just as he’d said. Instead of one more night, as I’d promised him, it was now a cocktail party and a week in the Caribbean. Soon it would be more. And I found it increasingly difficult to tell him no.

My head wanted me to resist, but my heart wouldn’t allow it.

Chapter Eleven

After work the next day, I met Heath at his place. I brought the fixings for a Caesar salad and he’d bought the ground beef and stuff for hamburgers.

Things were awkward at first. I could tell Heath was studiously avoiding the entire subject of Adam and the auction. He was done, it seemed.

But when we were about halfway through our hamburgers, I asked him the question that had been burning on my mind. “How do you do a hand job?”

Heath choked on his burger, his eyes widening. “Damn. At least give me warning to clear my mouth before you pop that shit on me.”

I giggled. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I was reading this Cosmo article and it confused me because—”

“Stop right there. If you get your sex education from Cosmo then you are in for a world of hurt—or he is. Those articles are insane.”

“Okay. So would you be embarrassed if I asked you to explain to me how it works?”

He laughed. “Embarrassed? Doll, I’m gay. Penises are like my favorite subject—shit, that’d probably be the case if I was straight, too, with boobies a close second.”

Over dessert—I’d picked up fresh strawberries at a local stand and served them over cheap angel food cake for strawberry shortcake—he used a banana to demonstrate the art of pleasuring a man with your hand. I might have had radiation burns on my face from all the blushing after that, but I did follow his advice and dump those back magazine issues into the recycling bin when I got home.

***

Lindsay’s cocktail party was an absolute dud. When she saw us arrive together, she widened her eyes in exaggerated surprise—or mock horror, I couldn’t tell which. She then pretended to be called away on some very important errand. I think she had planned on being Adam’s “plus one.” For the rest of the night, she pretended I didn’t exist. The other guests might have done the same but for the fact that Adam stuck to my side like Velcro the entire time.