Caught up in the attention, I’d forgotten to watch my back. A wise old man once told me to look after myself because no one else would. Usually, I lived by the advice. Until Jackson. Until a man showed me interest.
My mind flicked through the people in my life. Amy would never do me wrong, but aside from her, the field was open to shysters, perverts, liars and manipulators like Jackson Carlisle and Trish What’s-Her-Name.
It was easy for me to fall prey to a scheme. It always was. Time and again, I thought it would be different. Maybe this time there were no agendas or ulterior motives, and no one trying to do me harm. Maybe – just maybe – someone could like me for who I was. Apparently, it was too much to ask.
Disgusted, I laid back on Lou’s sofa, staring at the ceiling.
Hours later, my eyes closed and I could feel myself surrendering to merciful sleep.