Zia flopped onto Darlene’s couch, limbs aching. She’d intended to simply drop off the leftovers from Clay’s photo shoot to Layla but had somehow gotten roped into cleaning the bathroom, then cooking dinner. Boundaries. She had to get better at boundaries. She loved her sister and wanted to help, but she’d always been susceptible to guilt and Layla knew how to work it. It felt manipulative, and it irritated her. Back at Darlene’s apartment, where she’d been crashing most nights, Zia tried to shake it off. She popped open a Montauk Summer Ale and contemplated the piece of paper Clay had given her.
His cell number.
Of course Zia wanted to see Clay again. But a new horizon was beckoning.
She reread the enthusiastic email she’d received from the team leader in Mozambique. Yes, they’d love to hire her as a volunteer coordinator at the women’s resource center. Six months in Africa. Wanderlust stirred, stretching like a cat waking up from a nap.
Zia was intrigued by Clay, but she was also wary of what falling for someone could do to her. Had done to her before. The loss of freedom. The loss of self.
She’d been intrigued by Logan, too.
Her ex-boyfriend’s name still made it feel like there were spiders under her skin. He’d been her first serious relationship, back when she was only twenty. He was almost thirty, devoted to owning good suits and making good money. The kind of man who thought everything they wanted already belonged to them.
Logan had made everything that happened feel like a consequence of her behavior. Now she knew abusive relationships were never the fault of the survivor.
Air drained from her lungs, replaced by a suffocating blackness closing in.
The feeling of being trapped. Completely powerless.
Don’t think about Logan. Don’t go back there.
The front door opened.
“Darlene!” Zia swiveled around, grateful for the distraction. “How was the gig? Zinc Bar, right?”
“Fine.” Darlene looked pensive and distracted, but also light. Like a girl with a secret.
“Dee. What’s going on?”
“If I tell you something, you have to promise not to judge me. Or ask any follow-up questions.”
“Okay.”
Darlene sank down next to her on the sofa. “I kind of… just… made out with Zach.”
A bolt of surprised excitement made Zia grab Darlene’s arm. “What? When? Finally!”
Darlene was blushing. “Finally?”
“C’mon, you guys have mad chemistry. I knew this would happen.” Zia edged closer, grinning. “What was it like?”
“I said no follow-ups!” Darlene couldn’t stop a smile unfolding over her face. “But it was pretty hot.”
Zia laughed. “So, what—do you want to date him?”
Darlene exhaled, looking conflicted. “Can you keep a secret?”
Zia could. She’d kept Clay a secret. And it felt like freedom to release herself into Darlene’s world. Zia grabbed a beer from the fridge and handed it to Darlene. “Tell me everything.”