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moment while she looked me over.
    “Are you the source for Tattle Tale Tina’s article?”
    Again I responded with a nod.
    “That’s awesome,” she said. “So what’s the problem?
    “None of it’s true.”
    “The drug problem?” she asked.
    “Nope.”
    “The kid?”
    “Nada,” I replied.
    “The fuck, Case? What did you do? Make it all up?”
    “No,” I huffed. “I just got the stories wrong. I’m a terrible reporter.”
    “Well, if you didn’t make it up, why do you think you got it wrong?”
    “Because Finn told me to my face,” I admitted. “That’s the other problem. I kinda know him.”
    “Oh my fucking God, Casey,” she said, enjoying every second of my torment. “You know, know him. In the biblical sense?”
    I could feel my face heat, but I didn’t say a word.
    Mack squealed in delight.
    “You’ve been getting down with the Angel of Death?” she asked. “You rotten girl, holding out on my like this.”
    I warmed at the sound of Finn’s nickname, remembering when that was my only reference to him – the stories behind the name.
    “You lucky duck. Tell me everything. No, just answer my questions. I’ve heard he’s an absolute freak in the sack. True or false?
    She stared at me again – as if learning all my secrets by reading my mind.
    “Okay, let’s see if my spidey sense is as good as yours. You were on the hunt for a story when you discovered the Finn Daley turmoil. You got close to him to get the story. Then you got the story wrong and during all of this, you fell face first, in fucking love with the guy.”
    “Shit,” I said, unable to say anything else.
    Mack clapped her hands and asked,” How’d I do?”
    I tapped on my nose.
    Damn she was good.

    ***

    Two days, my ass. Phil could go fuck himself. I didn’t have to wait; I could go right to the source.
    I paced in my room, planning my next move. This was the second lead I’d gotten wrong. I was a terrible reporter. And Finn was paying the price.
    That’s when I knew what I had to do. I let out the breath I was holding, and then I put in a call to the gossip columnist herself – Tina Carlson. I’d explain it was a mistake, and hopefully she would be more concerned with the truth than Phil was.
    “Case,” Zack said, coming in with a pile of papers. “Got a sec?”
    “Not really,” I said, not even looking at him. If I had, I would’ve known something was wrong.
    “Oh,” he said. “Later, then?”
    “Sorry, bro,” I told him. “I have to take care of something. But I’ll be back later.”
    Then, in the next breath, I texted Finn: Can we talk?

Chapter 10

    Trap (n.):

    Defensive formations designed to minimize the opposition's scoring opportunities and keep its offense from functioning.

    Finn

    “Get out¸ Ava,” I said when she showed up on my front door. This was so not good.
    It was too much like old times. I’d fuck up and she’d show up to rub it in my face. It was how she maintained some sort of control back when I running wild.
    Ava was my past. Crazy. Superficial. Shallow. I was more than all that now.
    Finally back at home, I ached to get back to the new life I had created. I needed to get back to my center. That meant my mornings with Mia for acupuncture; the coconut water and fucking quinoa that I’d grown to love; my yoga mat and rose water. Maybe it wasn’t that bad, but I most definitely needed my fucking pussy vices to stay in check. These things I learned over the past months kept me sane.
    Until Casey.
    With her, I went back to that hypersexual creature, alpha as fuck. It was one of the first signs of my manic episodes. Consumed with fucking – Ava, the Puck Bunnies, whoever I could get my hands on. My appetite was insatiable.
    But since my treatment with Dr. Hart, I’d been just fine. Except with Casey.
    The obsession came back, but it wasn’t the act so much that played in my mind over and over again. Before the girls were just a means to getting off – a way to fly on that