One More Time(26)

What if he’s right and I ran away too soon?

I give up on the little shop and park, walking into the first Tim Horton’s for a quick cup of chai and a yogurt. I bolt them both down, hoping the combination of caffeine and protein will lead to the kind of mental clarity I’m seeking, but to no avail. Maybe there are no good answers, I think, as I toss my trash in the bin and push open the door.

But on my way to the car I have the strange feeling that I’m being followed. I pick up my speed and try to see if there’s a person trailing me in the window of one of the shops near Walfred. No luck. I slow down a tad, wondering if I’ll be able to hear real footsteps, but I can’t make them out against the music blaring from a nearby car. So I take the risk and turn around.

Snap.

I’m shot with the bright light of a camera flash. Fucking paparazzi. This guy is tall and thin with dark hair and a serious five o’clock shadow for this early in the morning. He looks like most of the rest-- disheveled and hungry for blood.

I cover my face knowing they’ll never be able to sell an obscured shot and dash toward my car. He follows, snapping away, but I win out, hop in and speed off.

There’s only one possible way to salvage my morning if I plan to be any good on set this afternoon, and as soon as I’m in my hotel room, I pull out my laptop and connect to the internet.

“Why on earth are you Skyping me before noon on a weekend?” Walter asks grouchily as he rubs his eyes.

“Because I fucked Tanner last night,” I reply.

“And I’m awake,” he says, moving off-camera for a moment and reappearing in his favorite kimono with a can of Red Bull.

Even from miles and miles away, Walter saves me. He insists I call down to room service for an immediate Bloody Mary and directs me to put on one of the lavender-infused facemasks that he slipped into my suitcase before I left LA. I am now slightly calmer.

Walter, on the other hand, is in what he would call “a tizzy.”

“Think you have enough booze in you to discuss the fact that you walked out on Tanner instead of facing the music, Missy?”

Now I’m not so sure that calling Walter was the best idea.

“What was I supposed to do?” I couldn’t think straight with a Greek god next to me in bed.

“Not cower like such a fucking conflict avoider, like you always do.”

“I wasn’t avoiding conflict. I was avoiding fucking my co-star/ex-boyfriend for the third time in six hours.”

“Third?”

“We did it twice. Once in the bed, once in the shower.”

Walters fan himself dramatically. “Hold on. I need a minute to live vicariously through your sex life because mine is a barren wasteland.” He takes a deep breath, his eyes closed, a smile perched on his lips. Then he reopens his eyes. “Okay. Go on.”

“I was saying, what was my option given the situation? But now I need to make it clear this fling is not going to become a thing.”

“One fuck fest does not a relationship make, Jenna.”

“But it starts there. And next thing I know, I’m in deep all over again. Since when has anyone been able to have casual sex with an ex without getting feelings involved?”

“Valid point.”

“So this has to be a one-shot deal. If it turns into a regular activity, I’m not going to be able to handle it. And the second time my heart gets broken by him, I’ll only have myself to blame.”

“What makes you so sure about that? I mean I’m the last person who should defend shacking up with an ex—because I’ve done it so many times and we both know how that’s worked out—but, I should not be used as an example for anything. You guys were so young when you were together. I sure as shit made some mistakes at that age I’ll always regret. What if you’re Tanner’s one big regret?”

My heart gives a little jump at the thought, and I sternly tell it to stop. I’m only second-guessing the past because I want to believe that I can trust Tanner now. But wanting something to be true doesn’t make it so. And if I’d been wrong about the extent of his cheating, he surely would have cleared things up a long time ago.

“I know Tanner,” I say to Walter, hoping he won’t probe any further. “And I know that I can’t trust him with my heart ever again. I will literally not survive a break up like we went through last time around.”

“I hear you on that,” Walter says with a raise of his own cocktail glass. Walter is of the strong opinion that no one should ever drink alone, even on the phone. “But I have to say, I disagree. Sort of.”

I pause, confused. What could he possibly disagree with?

“See, I’m looking at you with your cute little morning-after glow, and confidence in your face I haven’t seen in a very long time. Would just the sex alone really be that bad? If you already have your mind completely made up that you can’t trust him, you’re in a lot less danger of finding yourself falling for him again.”

I’m quiet for a moment, considering. I see where he’s coming from, and the thought of more sex definitely isn’t terrible. In fact, it’s the opposite of terrible. That leaves just the question of trust. I know I can’t trust Tanner, and this scenario makes that a non-issue, but can I trust myself not to get emotional?

“I’m not going to lie—sex with Tanner is so insanely amazing that it’s actually making me consider this. When I was with him last night, I felt more powerful and wanted than I have in years. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I do need that confidence right now. Does that sound crazy? Is that using him?”