Emily/October 29, 2017

She was sitting with her elbow on the desk, her chin resting on her palm, staring blankly at the computer screen as she listened to her mother, Rita, relay yet more information about Jackson Clayborn.

"When I saw Maggie at church this morning all she could talk about was how your friend threw that big fundraiser for Donny May who's running for mayor. Of course, we weren't invited. I can only wonder why. And then there's talk about your Mr. Clayborn being seen around town having drinks and dinner with different women. They say he's been traveling a lot, too.

"Sweetheart, I hate to ask you this again, but what in the name of sweet baby Jesus did you do to that man? Your father and I thought he was crazy about you. We always have. You know, it could be that attitude of yours. You don't always have to be so intimidating. It's okay to let the man be a little domineering."

Emily gave a little squeal and tears sprang to her eyes, trying to keep from laughing as the thought of being Jackson's sex slave ran through her mind.

"Are you okay? Sweetheart, you know I'd never say anything I thought would hurt your feelings but—"

"No, mom really it's okay. I'm just trying to hold back a sneeze. Really, I'm fine. Look it's been almost exactly five months since I've seen him. I know he's busy. I know he has a lot of women friends he hangs out with. I thought everything was fine, but just like that, he ghosted me."

"Ghosted you?"

"Yeah, Sybil is one of the younger girls that reviews and edits the books I post, and we've gotten to be friends...sort of. She says when they don't return texts, emails and quit calling, they're ghosting you."

"Oh my, but I thought back in June he was responding."

"Humph," she snorted, "let's just say his responses were perfunctory at best. It didn't take me long to figure out I just needed to leave him alone."

"But do you have any idea why he just suddenly turned?"

"Mom, you've asked me that for five months now and I've been telling you the same thing. I don't know what I did or if it was something I didn't do. You know, I could have sworn that deep down that man really cared for me, maybe even loved me. Do you realize how long we've been friends? He has always been there for me. I thought he always would."

"Well, one thing's for certain, you still love him. I can hear it in your voice."

Emily sighed and tapped the phone against her forehead and put it on speaker. "No, Mom, no I don't. I'm done. Jacks and I have been doing this for years...the back and forth. Oh, I can't be with him because I'm married, then I'm finally free and he's in Aspen, living with some snow bunny, then I start seeing someone in Austin and he's free, then that doesn't work out and I come home for a visit and he's with that last woman...what's her name?"

"Crystal."

"Okay, whatever, Crystal...then I go back to Dallas and take that newspaper job and meet Greg and when that breaks up, low and behold, I come back here and Mr. Clayborn and I are finally free at the same time. Perfect timing, wouldn't you think? But hell no, that mother-fucking-son-of-a-bitching bastard takes me up to his mansion on the mountain and makes me believe he wants me to be his..." she had to catch herself from saying sub. "Sorry, Mom, I got choked up there. I started to say his girlfriend and he made me think all sorts of things then doesn't talk to me for weeks and on and on it goes."

She heard her mother's sigh. "You know, you get that from your father."

"What?"

"That foul mouth of yours."

"Oh, and you're such an angel. You just flip us all off all the time."

"You're hurt and angry, dear, and I don't blame you. But your father and I had hoped...well, you know...that you and Jackson would become a thing."

"And why would that be, Rita?" She always called her by her first name when she was getting irritated with her. "It wouldn't be because he has money, would it?"

"Well, let's face it. You keep getting tied up with these men and then you walk away with absolutely nothing, and—"

"And you thought it would be nice to sell me off to the highest bidder. Look I've gone out a few times with other men, but it just never goes anywhere. Jackson's probably the only one who--"

"Maybe he just got cold feet. Maybe it just scared him that after all this time you were getting too close too quickly."

"Or maybe, just maybe, when he realized he could have what he'd wanted all this time, he didn't want it anymore...you know, the challenge was gone. He's an asshole."

Rita giggled. "Tell me what you really think, sweetheart. Besides, I thought you liked assholes."

"Mom, the fact that I've always ended up with them, doesn't particularly indicate that's what I like or really want. They're always wonderful till I get hooked then they let their real selves come out. I don't give a damn about Jackson Clayborn anymore. I really, really don't."

The doorbell rang. "Who is it?" her mother asked.

"I don't know. Just hold while I check." She went to the door, expecting it to be a local out ringing the bell for some politician, but when she threw it open a tall man with a football helmet greeted her. She screamed, dropped the phone and tried slamming the door in his face, but his boot was stuck between it and the frame.

"Em, it's me!" the voice said, throwing the helmet off.

Her heart was pounding in her ears and she could barely hear her mother's voice from the phone on the floor or the words coming out of Jackson Clayborn's mouth as he walked in and tried to throw his arms around her to calm her down.

"You bastard! What in the hell do you think you're doing?" she yelled, trying to take a swing at him.

He grabbed her in a bear hug, trapping her arms and whispered in her ear, "Shhh, stop it. This is exactly why I wore the helmet. I expected the first thing you'd do was try to slap me. It was a joke. I didn't mean to scare you."

She heard her mom say, "Oh, how sweet, Em. Be nice to him."

"Oh, no you don't, Rita. You call the police and tell them—"

"Hi, Mrs. Masterson," Jackson cut in.

Emily was struggling to get free as she heard her mom talking to him like she'd seen him just yesterday. She gave up and let her body go lax. "Are you two through with your conversation yet?"

Her mother's giggle again. "Call me later," she said and hung up.

"Are you going to let me go?"

"Are you going to quit fighting me?"

There was silence for a moment as she weighed her options. Finally, she nodded and he slowly released her and stepped back. She straightened her clothes, watched as he bent to pick her cell up and relished the image of her foot going right for his face when suddenly, as if he read her thoughts, he looked up and she was spellbound by his clear green eyes.

She couldn't keep herself from smiling and didn't want to let him know how really angry she was at him. "So, why did you think the first thing I would have done is slap you?" she asked as he straightened, handed the cell to her, letting his fingertips glide off hers and she felt the familiar tingling of sparks between them. Nothing changes, she thought, no matter how long it's been.

He gave a cocky grin and shrugged. "Maybe because I haven't made contact with you in a few weeks."

"Months," she corrected, her eyes never leaving his. "But who's counting?" Her mouth twisted in a little smirk.

He ran a hand through his blonde hair and his smile widened. "Obviously, you."

"You ghosted me."

"I what?"

"Ghosted me. That's when someone's there then they're not. Go look it up on Urban Dictionary. So, why are you here? You just show up without letting me know?" She walked to her sofa and sat rigidly, staring up at him accusingly.

"Well, first off, Em, I figured if I texted you, I was probably blocked by now and even if I wasn't, knowing you like I do, you wouldn't have responded. I'm pretty sure you want to make me suffer...remember, you have before. Secondly, tell me what you would have done if I'd called. You'd have sat there and watched it ring wouldn't you? You wouldn't have answered."

He paused and she could feel her face flush. She hated it that he knew her so well and she'd never been able to hide her emotions from him. Everything she felt or thought was plastered across her face, so she remained silent.

"Ha, I knew it. It wouldn't have mattered how many times I called."

She shrugged. "Okay, so why are you here? Why make contact after so long?"

"Well, Em, you're my friend and I love you as such. I've missed you and I wanted to apologize. I've kept tabs on you to make sure you're okay. Things were moving too fast and I had to make sure. You've always used me as your backup when things weren't going so great with one of your lovers or paramours. I think it made you feel good to know you could always call me and I'd be there and—"

"I didn't have any illicit lovers!"

"Really? What about that married guy you were crazy about?"

"I didn't have sex with him."

"You might as well have," he accused, his eyes narrowing, challenging her to deny it.

"Stop it! You know you're the closest thing I've had to an illicit affair." She glanced away then back up at him. "What about you? I know there are a lot of things you didn't tell me over the years, but I always knew when you were unhappy in a relationship or just getting out of one. And why didn't you ever tell me about Tulane and law school and what all had gone on? I knew you finished your degree in finance there, but not about that."

"We lost touch for a few years, Em. You graduated college then got married and moved to Dallas. I was there in New Orleans, traveling back and forth between here and Denver. You know I did my stint in the service..."

He stopped there and she didn't question him. She knew he didn't like talking about it or the wound on his chest and she didn't want to get into any more negative territory.

"Alright, fine. Let's go back to how things were moving so fast after us knowing each other for years and years, almost being intimate several times, supposedly being each other's best friends."

"I just put a little halt to things, is all," he said with a slight lift of his shoulders. "I didn't want to be your rebound. You needed time to date, to get over Greg or at least figure out how you feel about him. And I needed to take care of business and not be so wrapped up in you. Carmen and Cliff pointed out that if we both weren't positive about what we were doing, this sexual thing we were getting ready to get into could destroy not just our friendship, but our entire relationship. I knew they were right. I've seen it happen before."

"Humph, at least I know that's true. You know how you've always been Mr. Nice Guy with all the women friends?" Emily asked rhetorically. "Well, it might surprise you to know that some of them aren't any too fond of you. Or maybe you've noticed the looks they give you, especially the ones you were just friends with from high school and—"

"We're not going back to high school or college. I want to start over...from this point and time. Now, not the past! I've been doing a lot of thinking. Our whole relationship, I thought if I could just fulfill all your fantasies, we'd be good. But it's not about that, I realize it now. Carmen and Cliff gave me quite a tongue lashing after Memorial Day and I was pissed as hell at both of them.

"Here's the problem, Em, we know each other too well and both have resentments where the other's concerned. I want us to get to know each other and find out what this love we have for each other really is. Is it lust, friendship, this crazy bond...whatever it is, I don't want sex ruining it before we have a chance to figure it out."

"Oh, so you got these bits of wisdom from Cliff and Carmen?" she asked incredulously, anger starting to consume her. "How many times have I pushed you away? How many times have I stopped us when we were about to make a mistake? How many times have I walked away, so you could figure yourself out? How many fucking times, Jackson Clayborn, you asshole, have I told you sex would ruin our friendship? And you're standing here now, after I thought you'd finally figured it out...after I thought you finally got it and I trusted you...and...and now you're telling me that this all came from Cliff and Carmen? Go fuck yourself!"

He took a step closer to her and she wanted to slap him at the same time she wanted him to just reach out and take her, right there on the floor and get it over with. "Do not move another inch," she warned as her hand went up to push him away.

Wrapping fingers around her wrist, he brought it to his chest where the scar was and instinctively, her palm rested against it. With his other hand, he tilted her chin up and forced her to look into his eyes as his mouth lowered and her lips felt the sizzle of his and the familiar knot starting to grow in her womb, just as he pulled away.

"Trust me, Em, just one last time. I bought a beach house in Puerto Escondito last month. It's virgin territory, so to speak. I've seen it once and no one has ever been there with me. Let's run away for a couple of weeks. Carmen has agreed that she can take over things here for you. You can take your laptop and work on your writing. I can do business from there. It will be time alone together without old feelings, people, places or things distracting us.

"Think about it, Emily. We've never truly been alone together for any extended time. We might figure out we can't stand each other—or we might find out we're in love with one another. Please, give it a chance. Trust me. Trust us."

"Why should I?" She was tempted...so very, very tempted. He was right. They'd never been really alone together for any length of time at all. She had no idea if she could stand him for any real period of time. But sex? What would happen if they screwed and it was awful and they were stuck together for two weeks?

"Who else are you going to trust?" Jackson replied, his voice almost a whisper, his eyes never leaving hers.

She was having trouble breathing, so tantalizing was the proposition and swallowed hard then nodded her head. "I'll agree on one condition."

"What?"

"No sex."

Jackson's eyes glazed over then a smile lit his face. "Seriously?"

Emily mirrored his smile and she knew her eyes had to be glimmering with mischief at the idea of them being together and not allowing anything physical to happen. "Seriously."

"Sure! Why not?"

"Can I trust you?"

"Scouts honor. Can you trust yourself?"

"Challenge?"

"Let the games begin...say, day after tomorrow. I'll pick you up around three."

She nodded, stood, took his elbow, walked him to the door, watched as he walked down the street to the Jeep, closed the door then burst into laughter as she thought about them trying to keep from having sex for two weeks.

Suddenly sobering, the laughter left her and her body became rigid as she realized this would either make them or break them and now wondered if she really trusted either one of them and what kind of bargain she'd just made.