Page 28 of Get A Fix

It hit me, then, and I grinned widely. “You’re looking for love.”

He threw up his hands as though giving up. The pacing seemed necessary for him to work things out in his head and come to terms with them.

“You’re a romantic.”

“Yes,” he grumbled, sitting down on the end of the bed. “Always have been.”

“How many men have there been?” I asked, crawling over to him and kissing the back of his neck.

“Stop that. We’re having a serious conversation about my stupid heart.”

“It’s not stupid,” I murmured, kissing his shoulder. “But c’mon, gimme a number.”

“A lot,” he said after a moment.

“And the guy who got away, you’re counting him, yeah?”

“Hagen. His name was Hagen.”

“And what happened with him?”

“Oh, he’s married now to the guy who broke his heart but then rode back into town and fixed it.”

“Now that sounds romantic.”

He grunted.

“You could try and win him back now that you’re all grown up.”

Turning, he scowled at me. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Your career is solid now, you don’t have to jump through hoops anymore, take movies you’re not in love with, and you can choose things you know won’t keep you away from the person who’s your home.”

“What do you mean my home?”

“What do you mean what do I mean?” I snapped at him. “That’s what you’re talking about. You don’t want a million fuck buddies anymore; you’re looking for the one who’ll ground you. Isn’t that right?”

He nodded slowly.

“And simply returning to a house or a spot isn’t enough. It’s the person who will be your home wherever they are.”

“It’s a lot to ask,” he choked out.

“Not really.”

“No?”

“No,” I said, chuckling as I pushed him down onto the bed and then lay down next to him. “You just need to make sure you fall in love with a guy who can do his work remotely.”

“I see.” He rolled his head to look at me. “So I should ask that question right off the bat from now on.”

“That’s what I’d suggest, yes.”

He rolled to his side, facing me, slipping his hand around the side of my neck. “And a bodyguard, that’s completely wrong for me, yes?”

“Oh yeah, that’s no good. And for the record, I’m a fixer.”

“And what, precisely, is the designation here?” He scooched closer and kissed me.