I heave a long sigh. "I don't know."

"You have to give him credit for trying to woo you. Even if his attempt is a bit like a junior high student."

I glance down at the flower. "It is kind of sweet."

"In some ways Leo is like a kid in a grown man's body."

I laugh. "He kind of is, isn't he?"

When Harper places a hand on my shoulder I try not to flinch. Her expression has turned serious. "You know you can just go on a date and have fun. It doesn't mean you have to sleep with him."

"We probably wouldn't be doing much sleeping, but I get your point. It's been so long since I've gone on a date and not f.u.c.ked the guy I honestly don't remember what that's like."

"It might be good for you to go out and have a good time. Just be sure to say goodnight at the end of the date. And mean it."

"I'll think about it," I tell her, although my mind is just about made up.

"Okay," I whisper to Leo when I see him at breakfast.

He's devouring a grapefruit when I sit down next to him at the kitchen table.

When he glances over at me he's got a huge smile plastered on his face. "You got my note?"

"Where did you find a pencil?"

He laughs. "There are these tiny a.s.s pencils scattered all over the guest house. They're like pencils for dwarfs or something."

"Are they golf pencils?" I suggest.

He frowns. "What do golfers do with tiny pencils?"

"They use them to write down their scores on their scorecards. You've never golfed?"

"Do I look like a guy who plays golf?"

I can't help but laugh. "Not at all."

"I think Nic's tried it. Celebrity tournaments. s.h.i.t like that."

I clear my throat. "So what do you have in mind? For our date?"

"I'll take you to dinner. One of those fancy places in downtown Scottsdale. How does that sound?"

"Expensive," I admit.

As he moves in close I get a whiff of his scent. Sandalwood and citrus. I get tingly all over. "I'd pay anything to see you in one of your tight, little black dresses again." Then he whispers in my ear. "And even more to get you out of it."

My entire body heats at the thought of Leo hiking up one of my little back dresses and slipping inside of me. I can feel myself getting wet just thinking about it.

"How about tomorrow night?" His breath tickles my neck and makes me shiver.

When I try to reply I realize my throat has completely tightened. So I just nod.

"See you then, Wild Child."

As he gets up from the table I can't help but notice the erection that's straining the fly of his jeans.

It takes me a moment to realize I'm licking my lips like a hungry animal. It's just a date. I remind myself. It doesn't mean I have to f.u.c.k him.

But oh, how I want to...

"I'm nervous," I admit as I plop down in the office chair next to Harper's.

"I know you've never worked in an office before, but I have confidence that you'll handle everything just fine."

I laugh. Harper is so cute. She thinks I'm nervous about working for her. "The date," I tell her.

She rolls her eyes. "Of course. How could I think that there would be anything but Leo on your mind?"

"You're the one who urged me to go out with him."

She nods. "You're right. But can you try to focus on Chatter for the next few hours, at least until I go through your training."

"Sure," I tell her. "No problem.

She narrows her gaze at me. Neither one of us actually believes the c.r.a.p I'm spewing, but we'll both pretend that I'm going to at least try to be a halfway decent employee.

When we take her computer out of hibernation the first thing that pops up is a website of wedding dresses.

"Research for Chatter?" I ask even though we both know she's been looking at dresses for herself.

"Don't say anything to Nic," she warns. "I don't want him to get his hopes up."

"My lips are sealed." I pantomime zipping my lips.

She slams on a few b.u.t.tons on her keyboard until the wedding dress website is replaced with the website for her online entertainment magazine.

"One of your major responsibilities will be to monitor all of the comments we get on the Chatter website and our Facebook page, and keep up with our Twitter and Instagram accounts. You'll be the face of Chatter across social media platforms. Do you think you can handle that?"

I nod, but my attention is already wandering to thoughts about Leo and being in his bed again. Do I have no self-control?

Apparently not when it comes to Leo.

On the plus side my booze cravings seem to be less intense. Between a s.e.x addiction and a booze addiction I think a s.e.x addiction is less dangerous. Before rehab booze and s.e.x always seemed to be linked.

"Brooke!" When Harper raises her voice I realize I completely s.p.a.ced out on her training session.

"Yes, of course," I reply, even though I have no idea what the question was.

When her eyes narrow and her lips become an angry slit I know I've already f.u.c.ked up. "You're not paying attention, are you?"

"Why would you say that?" I fake indignity.

"Because I just asked you if you'd like to learn Chinese in your free time and you said, 'Yes, of course.'"

"That does sound like a complete lie, doesn't it?" I admit.

"It was a test to see if you were zoning out."

"I'm sorry. I promise I'll pay attention. Although it might be easier if you just give me stuff to do and I learn as I go. I've always been more of a hands-on kind of girl."

And that makes me think of having my hands all over Leo and him having his hands all over me...

When Harper slams a large pile of receipts in front of me the fantasies of Leo quickly fade again.

"You asked for it. You got it. All of these receipts need to be reconciled. She turns on another computer that's sitting in front of me. "I'll pull up the accounting program and you can get started. And please, no more daydreaming, okay?"

"I'll do my best," I a.s.sure her, but I can already feel myself fading back into a wonderful fantasy about Leo in the hot tub.

I've changed my outfit five times and I'm still not thrilled with what I'm wearing for my date with Leo. My heart hasn't stopped thumping and I'm afraid it might beat right out of my chest.

As I stand in front of the mirror every one of my flaws seems to become crystal clear. And of course I pick apart every one of them. I've been doing it since I was a kid. Maybe it's because it's all I heard from my parents. They never told me they loved me, but they were very candid about everything that was wrong with me.

Especially my dad.

Just a few sharp and well-timed putdowns from my dad could completely run me into the ground. Over the years I've gotten very good at doing the same thing to myself.

I smooth out the wrinkles on my dress. Any shorter and it would actually be just a shirt. And I don't think it's possible for the dress to be any tighter. It's already like a second skin. I'm also wearing f.u.c.k-me pumps which give my legs the appearance of being a lot longer and shapelier than they actually are.

I generally don't wear a lot of makeup, but I've put on some bright red lipstick that just begs to be kissed off.

I run my fingers through my long, brown hair one last time to give it a little bit of a tousled effect.

s.l.u.t.

That's the only word I can think of as I stare at my reflection.

I've been a s.l.u.t since the seventh grade. I've never really given the term or its implications much thought until I was in rehab. I just considered myself a girl who loves c.o.c.k. I could never get enough of it. Who, when, where or why didn't matter as long as I had a d.i.c.k inside of me.

In rehab they made us examine every aspect of our lives under a microscope. We talked a lot about my addiction to d.i.c.k. Apparently I use s.e.x to feel wanted and needed and loved.

The idea that maybe I just liked s.e.x without it being some cry for help was completely dismissed by every one of my counselors.

It's just as date, I remind myself for the millionth time as I take one last look in the mirror. You don't have to f.u.c.k him.

But all I can see is a s.l.u.t staring back at me from the mirror.

Leo's eyes grow wide as he watches me emerge from my suite.

"Wild Child." He shakes his head. "I don't think I can take you out dressed like that."

I visibly deflate and wonder if I still have time to change.

"You'll cause riots in the streets. Guys will be fighting over you and I'll have to beat the s.h.i.t out of every one of them."

I roll my eyes at him. "Where are you taking me for dinner?"

"Someplace nice. At least that's what Rayne told me." He shrugs. "I don't get out to restaurants much."

"You look great," I tell him. It's no lie. Leo cleans up nicely. His standard attire is battered jeans and a concert t-shirt, but today he's wearing black slacks and a black b.u.t.ton-down shirt. I also notice he's got on black loafers rather than the old black boots he normally wears.

He's also wearing his signature scent, sandalwood and citrus. As I breathe him in I'm tempted to say, "Screw the date," and pull him into my bedroom. I have a feeling f.u.c.king Leo might be a little more fun than spending the evening in a snooty restaurant downtown.

When he says, "Let's go," I'm jolted back to reality. The one in which I'm remaining celibate and on the clean and sober path.

For a brief moment I wonder if he'll take my hand, but he slips his hands in the pockets of his pants instead. "I had to borrow one of Rayne's cars," he announces as we head outside. There's a beautiful sapphire blue BMW convertible waiting for us as we step out the front door.

"You don't have a car of your own?" I'm pretty sure he could afford one. Not that I'm one to judge. Right now I can't even afford the gas for a car let alone the insurance and monthly loan payments.

He shakes his head. "I've got an old bike. I've had it for years. Still runs though so what the h.e.l.l."

"And by bike I a.s.sume you mean motorcycle?" Somehow I can't imagine Leo Donovan ever riding a bicycle.

He laughs. "Yea, I've got a motorcycle. I didn't think you'd want to hop on the back of my bike." He looks me up and down. "Definitely not dressed like that."

"Do you like my outfit?" I ask. I used to be overconfident, sometimes even arrogant, but being in rehab knocked me down to nothing. I feel like I'm just starting to rebuild my self-confidence again.

"Are you kidding me? You're smoking hot. I'd say screw the dinner and just take you to a hotel and f.u.c.k you all night, but I'm supposed to be acting like a gentleman."

Leo's candor never fails to make me smile. He's like a five-year-old, who says exactly what's on his mind without any inhibitions.

"Since you're supposed to be acting like a gentleman, you'd better open the car door for me."

"I was just about to do that," he says as he opens the pa.s.senger side door.

I do my best to ease into the front seat, but the car is extremely low to the ground and I don't want to split a seam or anything.

Once we're both seat-belted Leo turns to face me. "Thanks for going out with me."

I smile. "We haven't actually gone out yet."