HadleyI'm nervous heading to Trick's shop, but it's different than it was the first time I went. Our night changed things. I can't put my finger on it, but I feel different as I make my way across the bridge. Today I've grabbed a change of clothes and something to put my hair up with.Shaking my head, I grin, thinking I've never seen anyone's office as bad as Trick's. It's part of his appeal – the 'no fucks given' attitude he shoves in the face of everyone is like a shield against the world. I'm convinced now, more than ever, that there's a deeper side to Trick, a side he doesn't show to many. Tapping my fingers against the steering wheel, I wonder what it takes to see that side. "What are you doing, Hadley?"It's a question I've asked myself a lot since last night. After leaving his apartment, I went through his Facebook. It's mostly about his job, more motorcycles and things of that nature than anything. But hidden deep, I found what I think are a couple of friends. There we

Hadley I've been working for almost two hours and I'm not sure you can tell. The amount of paper this man has is insane. By the time I'm done, we'll be filling the city landfill, I'm almost positive of it. Turning my phone over, I don't see a text from him, not after the question I asked. It bothers me he hasn't answered. I thought we were close enough to share at least that much with one another. Finally, I see a flash of brown. Could it be? Am I almost to the wood grain of the desk? I want to get up and dance a little jig, but I'm also trying to be halfway professional.A bike cutting through the back alley grabs my attention. I think it's Trick, but I'm not completely sure. I figure if I spend enough time here, enough time with him, I'll know for sure. There's something intimate about being able to distinguish the sound of his bike from the sound of others. Like a teenage girl, I hope we get to that point in our relationship. When the backdoor opens and I hear his boots hit

HadleyI hear the front door to his apartment slam, and my hands shake. I've never had the kind of reaction I have to Trick, to anyone else. It's like a current flowing through both of our bodies, an electrical jolt that would make my heart start beating again if it stopped. Nervousness courses through my body, and I try to examine why I'm nervous. Because he's going to be honest with me.Because I'm going to be honest with him.I haven't opened myself up to a person in a long time. The last person I opened up to tried to use anything I ever told him to hurt me in the divorce proceedings. My brain knows that's the kind of man my ex was, but the irrational part cautions me against opening up to anyone else ever again. Even though it's lonely, it's easier that way; no one to hurt you in the long run.But in the last year, I've started to feel the loneliness. Not all day, and not even every day, but it's there, in the back of my mind. It's there when I want to watch a non-kid

HadleyMy knee shakes as I sit on the couch in Trick's living room. The damn cat has taken up the seat next to me and keeps looking up at me. I swear he's taunting me. Five minutes ago, Trick asked me if I wanted to shower first, and when I said no, he went into the bathroom and shut the door. I can hear the water, and my imagination's running wild.I don't want to have sex with him tonight, it's too soon, but dear Jesus it's been a long time for me, and the man is hot. Not to mention the emotional baggage we laid out for each other earlier. I just need some human contact. I need someone to hold me, I want to feel someone's lips against mine, fingers digging into my flesh. I'm raw, and I don't want to deal with the emotional fallout of my past by myself. I've been doing that for such a long fucking time. There's a bottle of Jim Beam on Trick's counter, a sign I should do what I'm thinking of doing.Getting up, I march over to it, rip the top off, and take a fortifying drink. I h

Hadley"How are things going with Patrick?" Rebecca stares at me, and I swear she can tell just by looking, that Trick and I have been spending time together. It's almost like she knows I've been having inappropriate thoughts. Not that we've done anything inappropriate yet, but after spending the night with him, I've done nothing but think about everything we could do to each other. All. the. Time. Giving him a blow job and him getting me off wasn't inappropriate, right? We're both consenting adults, both sure of what we were doing with one another.Why do I feel like I'm lying to my mother after being out with my boyfriend the night before? Can she see the fucking hickey I have on my neck?"Good," I answer, nodding. I figure offering as little info as possible is the best way to not blow our cover. She seems super intuitive to anything and everything. The last thing I want to do is get someone else involved in a relationship that neither I nor Trick is prepared to put a label on