Worth the fight

in.  I feel guilty I don’t call often enough, but sometimes I just need to try to block out that part of my life.  It’s not my mom’s fault that I can’t separate her from the past that haunts me.  I don’t mean to, but so much is deeply interwoven that it’s hard to take the good out from a web of bad memories.
    Four years of therapy helped me to start to live again , and these days I really think I’m doing it.  Guilt for not feeling regret had me stuck in a bad place, but most days I think I’ve moved on.  Most days. 
    Mom and I spend ten minutes catching up and then the conversation moves to William.  She casually asks how he is and is surprised when I tell her that we recently stopped seeing each other.  I don’t mention that I’ve started seeing someone because I’m not in the mood for the third degree.  Not today.  I wouldn’t lie to her if she asked, but I know she would ask whether I’ve shared my past with him or not.  For some reason she seems to think tha t telling people about the worst day of my life is cathartic.  Perhaps it would be, but I wouldn’t know since I’ve never told a living soul outside of my weekly group meetings.  Sure, lots of people know.  But those are the people that read the headlines.  They didn’t hear it from my lips.
    After I hang up, I spend an hour trying to figure out what to wear to Nico’s.  The outside layer of clothing is the easy part.  But I want to look sexy without my clothes on.  It dawns on me that I’ve never been concerned over what I wore for William.  Not even in the beginning.  Perhaps I should have been, but there’s no use dwelling on that now.  Whatever the reason, I feel the need to please Nico Hunter.  I’ve never felt that way with another man.  A few weeks ago, if a woman would have told me that she dressed to please her man, I probably would have thought she was pitiful.    But the way that Nico looks at me makes me high.  It’s like a drug I crave desperately to have again.  His pleasure is my reward, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to earn it. 
    I’m honest with myself about how I feel, but it doesn’t make me accept my own reaction to the man any easier.  I’m torn between giving in to what feels so right and chastising myself for acting like a weak little girl. 
    I manage to get a few hours of work in during the afternoon.  My workweek is always six days, but with Leonard out it’s pushing seven.  A half day today and possibly no work tomorrow will make my Monday brutal, but I’ll care about that Monday. 
    I arrive at his building on time.  The only two times I ’ve been on time to anything in the last year have both involved Nico Hunter.  Even I can’t chalk that up to coincidence.  As I make my way to the door, I’m nervous and fidgety.  Anticipation wreaks havoc on my ability to multitask and I don’t even notice he’s standing in the doorway, as I fumble in my purse to put away my keys while walking. 
    “Hey , beautiful.”  His voice is low and sexy, but it scares the shit out of me nonetheless, because I hadn’t realized anyone was there.
    I jump and look up, spilling the contents of my overly stuffed purse all over the concrete.  
    “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.  I thought you saw me standing there.”
    Nico leans down to start cleaning up the mess, and I almost lose my balance in my heels as I lower myself to join him in collecting my things.  He smiles at me with a sexy smile and I smile back.  I’m momentarily lost in his knee weakening smile, until I see what he’s holding in his hand out of the corner of my eye and realize it’s the reason for his sly smile.  My birth control pills.  He extends his hand to offer them to me, but doesn’t release them as I go to take them. 
    “Good to know.”  Nico ’s smile has grown from a smirk to a full-blown, panty-dropping grin and I feel the red creep up over my face.  God damn it, I’m a grown woman who accepted an invitation to stay at a man’s house tonight, but yet I blush at the site of birth control pills.  What the hell is wrong with me?
    I quickly scoop up the rest of my personal life on display on the sidewalk and I’m relieved that I had removed the flavored condoms that Regina had shoved into my purse before I left yesterday.  Bacon flavor.  What woman wants to taste mea t while, you know, tasting meat?
    Nico stands and doesn’t offer to help me get up.  He just