“What made you finally end it for real?” Tate asked.

“I had tried to break it off a couple times; once when she flipped out after she caught me fucking this tennis player – she was not as free a thinker as you. She never wanted to have sex anymore, and when we did, it was always kind of weird. Well, you know, weirder than usual. I finally told her it was over, for real over. That I had never wanted to marry her, and would never marry her. She begged and pleaded. Cried. I could never resist tears, you know.

“We wound up fucking, and she asked me to hit her. She never let me do that before, never asked me to – she would let me do other things. Hot candle wax, cat-o-nine-tails, paddles; things she had the option of doing back to me. But hitting ..., it's kind of a one way street. You'll never be able to hit me as hard as I can hit you,” Jameson said softly. Tate laughed.

“We'll see about that.”

“Very few women will let you do that to them, I've discovered. Lot's of other crazy shit, but not that, so it was kind of like dangling forbidden fruit in front of me. I was gentle, I didn't do anything crazy. Slapped her once, maybe twice. She went fucking nuts. Fucked my goddamn brains out – almost comparative to you,” he told her.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Tate snorted.

“I mean, it was crazy. Even for me. We were all over the place, every surface in the apartment. But then she started hitting herself. Hard. It got a little strange. I tried to stop her. She gave herself a bloody lip, pulled out a hank of hair, and when she came, she gave herself a black eye. I like some freaky shit, but that was too much. I got off of her, made her stop. She laughed at me, said that I was the freak, that there was something wrong with me for liking the things I like, said she was gonna tell everyone, sell pictures of her face to the press. Fucked up. I packed a bag and left. I've never gone back to that apartment, though I'm pretty sure I'm still paying rent on it,” Jameson said.

“Fuck the apartment! What happened to crazy bitch!?” Tate exclaimed, propping herself up on her elbows so she could look at him. He smiled and traced a finger down the side of her face. Her hair was a mess and her eye makeup was smeared down her cheeks, but she was looking at him. Really looking at him, all of the detachment from earlier gone.

She is so beautiful.

“I should've looked you up,” he blurted out. Her eyes got wide.

“Excuse me?”

“Seven years. I should've looked you up. I thought about you. Wondered what you were doing. That night was a pretty big deal. I never imagined that you would turn out like you did,” he told her.

“What, like you?” she asked. He nodded.

“Yeah.”

“I wouldn't have imagined it, either, back then. You unleashed something in me. Thank you,” she told him. He laughed and pushed himself so he was sitting up, resting back against the headboard.

“Don't thank me yet. You were ready to kill me earlier,” he reminded her.

“I was hurt. I was stupid. I'll get over it,” she assured him. He shook his head.

“It wasn't stupid. I could've told you. I would've wanted you to tell me, I guess. Dealing with her isn't always the most pleasant experience. We broke up last year, but besides having some investment plans together, we just run in to each other a lot. Sex happens sometimes. Old feelings get stirred up. It's fucked up, but I'm kind of a fucked up guy,” he told her. She laid back down, facing away from him, and there was silence for a few moments.

“Old feelings, huh,” she said softly.

“Tatum.”

“Hmmm?”

“If I tell you something, will you please, please, not be a girl about it? Not read too much in to it?”

Tate propped herself back up. Pushed her messy hair out of her face. She scooted closer and rested her chin against his knee. He smiled down at her, reached out and ran a hand over her hair.

She deserves better than me.

“I make no promises, but I'll try. I'm usually pretty good about it. Just not today,” she replied.

“I didn't want to like you,” he stated bluntly. She held her breath, but kept staring at him. “When I first saw you, got them to hire you as a temp. I had no intention of knowing you. I just wanted to sleep with you again. You looked so amazing, and god, your mouth. That was my plan the whole time. I wanted to see if you were like how I remembered, if anything could ever be that good again. It was better. You weren't scared of me, you stuck around. Were willing to take more than I was even prepared to dish out,” he told her. She laughed, leaned to the side and nibbled on his thigh.

“I told you, flattery will -,”

“I like you, Tatum. A lot. I don't want you to leave. When you didn't come home tonight, didn't answer your cell phone, that was my first thought. That it was over, you were bored, didn't care. I always thought it would be me first. I was upset. I don't want to let you go, not yet. I like you,” he stressed.

She frowned at him, her brows creasing together.

“That's very sweet, Jameson, but I'm not sure I understand. Why am I not supposed to be a girl about that?” she asked. He sighed, running his fingers through her hair.

“Because it won't ever be more than that. You're a friend, a very good friend. But that's it. There will never be a ring from Harry Winston. I will never ask you to marry me. I don't want those things, I never did. Not with Pet, not with anybody. I like to have fun, I like to fuck. I don't want to put stars in your eyes, I'm not that guy. I'm the devil, and I don't have any plans to change. But I like you, and I would like you to stay with me, for a little while longer,” he said.