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apartment, but it fit Bailey.
    She was the only thing good and clean in my life. If I had to release the darkness inside me once a month in order to keep it away from her, I had never minded doing so. But now there was Colin, and presumably he would not be okay with me making solitary trips to the club for a quick, dirty fuck. Neither did he want to be rough with me himself. I didn’t see how this could work out in the end, but I couldn’t bring myself to let him go.
    In the kitchen Colin had piled together a sandwich from the contents of the plates and poured a glass of milk for me. I sat down with this strange, achy feeling. Guilt, maybe. I’d never had someone take care of me like this, not ever. There’d been my dad, but I’d been the one who needed to make dinner if I wanted it done. It was the kind of thing a mother would do, but I’d never had one, at least that I could remember. Who knew Colin could be motherly?
    “Thanks.” For everything, I wanted to say, not just for the sandwich. Not even for protecting me from the guy at the club. Thank you for seeing my flaws and wanting me anyway. But those words hung in the air, just out of reach.
    “You’re welcome,” he said, his face blank. He stood up, grabbed my keys from the counter. “I’ve got to go. I’ll make sure your car is back by morning. ”
    He rummaged through a drawer and shoved a piece of paper and pen into my hands. I scribbled my number on the paper and kept my eyes downcast as he plucked it from my fingers.
    I was used to feeling competent. In my work and in my life. It wasn’t a wonderland, but it was mine. Even the date nights were an extension of that control—they were on my terms. But now I felt bumbling, inept, unable to do basic things like date a guy.
    “Hey,” I said.
    He paused at the door and turned back.
    “Maybe we could go out. Tomorrow night,” I said.
    A faint smile turned his lips. “Sure.”
    And then he was gone.
    I went to the closed door and turned the lock, then rested my forehead against the glossy white paint.
    Shelly’s voice rang in my ear. “Allie and Colin, sitting in a tree…”
    Of course, Shelly had it wrong. Even if I were serious about Colin—and we were a far cry from that—I had a baby first. Another man’s baby, at that. And love and marriage had nothing to do with this thing between Colin and me. It was sex and companionship. Friendship, maybe. Love was for suckers.

Chapter Three
    “How are you?” Colin’s eyes raked over my breasts as if checking to see whether any bruises from last night lingered.
    Flowers. He was holding flowers. I accepted them, trying to look as if I’d done that before when I didn’t think I’d even held a bouquet before. They were heavier than I expected. The smell of damp spring serenaded me.
    “I’m okay. Thank you.” I led him to the kitchen to hide my blush. “But I…I was hoping to talk to you about last night.”
    A muscle ticked in his jaw as he leaned his hip against the counter. “Go ahead.”
    “I know how it looked, but it wasn’t like that.” Maybe it would have been better to let him believe it was rape, to never talk about it again, but I couldn’t bind him to me by pretending to be the victim.
    “I heard you say no,” he said.
    I wiped my palms on the plasticky fabric of my dress. “I know I said that. But sometimes that’s what I want. For someone not to stop. I know that sounds kind of crazy. I mean, it probably is crazy. I guess what I’m trying to tell you is that I…have issues.”
    His face softened just a fraction. “I know. Can you tell me?”
    My throat tightened. Actually, every muscle went taut as if the strength of my body could keep my mind from saying too much. It wasn’t a choice, not talking about what happened. It was a physical impossibility. It always had been.
    People seemed to think they could fix anything by talking it out. Afternoon talk shows and therapists and meetings didn’t really help people. All they