Nikki Sloane

It felt like he was everywhere. Inside my body, inside my mind, inside the deepest recesses

“You’re going to be a good little girl and do everything I tell you to, aren’t you?”

We’d been best friends, and now we didn’t really talk anymore.

“Don’t do that. This isn’t your fault. Things don’t work out sometimes, and that’s just life.”

. I missed the guy I’d loved, but knew he was never coming back.

The kind I was sure could turn a smart girl like me stupid

“No, I’m good.” Because I loved my shoes. Stilettos, or sandals, or any kind of sexy heels . . . My closet was full of them, and I took every opportunity I could to wear them.

Once I flipped the light switch in his dining room, the chandelier warmed the darkness. This room was formal, elegant, and traditional

I was comfortable with both my space and others’. Some might even label me as the overly friendly, touchy-feely type. I was a confident woman, the kind of girl who ate weakness for breakfast and had no problem making the first move.

“Being around unfamiliar people,” he continued, “makes me uncomfortable. Honestly, sometimes it’s exhausting. I can deal with it when I’m at work or out at a job site, but then I need space afterward.” His hand tightened on the steering wheel. “Not to sound like a jerk, but most of the time I’d rather be alone.”