Twitter - https://twitter.com/authorklstewart

There are several women responsible for my sanity on a daily basis: Stacy Hahn, Anne Morrillo, Juliana Cabrera, Yamara Martinez, Julie Kerchkof, Sharon W. Dunn and Jessica Ramirez. You ladies have stuck by me the last year it has taken me to hit the publish button once again. You truly are my nearest and dearest and I love you.

Bloggers- I love you. There are way too many to name so I’ll just take the asshole route and say thanks to all of you.

Danielle Bonaventura Lefave - Thank you for your amazing support and endless replies to my messages. I love the fun we have and the friendship we’ve formed.

Thank you to my betas: Sharon, Patty, Beth, Cathy, Stacy, Anne, Julie, Jessica, Danielle, Heather,  and Yamara.

Heather Brocket Slayton - You are AWESOME. Thank you so much for taking me on again. Your friendship is a great compliment.

To my Asskickers - I love every single one of you. You represent your name well, and I love that you are all mine (insert evil laugh).

Jess Bee-Lady thank you for swooping in and saving me. You truly are the best girl in the world…bitch(LOL).

Thanks to my dear friend and step mother Alta for ALWAYS having my back and being the best friend and mother a girl could ask for. And a big thanks to my sister Angela who reads me even though I’m not her type and listens to my endless rants about…everything. You rock Angie.

Amy Queau- I love you. Really, thank you for the gift of your friendship and your bitch slapping at all the right moments. I can’t wait to share a beer with you.

My best friends, Irene, Erica, Allyson, Teresa, and T thank you for your encouragement. I love you guys so much.

Edee - I am so proud of us, of our friendship, and all we’ve accomplished together. I couldn’t have done ANY of it without my soul sister.

I took a seat at the small table next to the window unit. I lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply, letting my eyes drift to the bed. It had been years since I’d felt smoke cloud my lungs and the rush of nicotine. The sheets were still a tangled mess. The room was untouched. I knew today was the day I should clean Room 212 and leave the memory of him behind. Still, there I sat at that small table, staring at the bed, trying to recapture the devastating effect it had on me the day before. I was a glutton for this punishment. I was trying to force myself to come back to my senses quickly. It was the smart thing to do. I hadn’t done one smart thing since he had shown his face. Out of weakness and a reluctance to face the literal bed I had made for myself to lie in, I refused to move from my chair. I heard the window unit come on and tiny goose bumps spread across my skin. The whirring sound of the air flowing into the room took me back to the last time I had heard it. I was lying on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. I felt a rush of tears and let them fall. I was alone after all. No one could see me. No one ever really saw me, until he saw me. I pulled on the last of my cigarette and tapped it out in the ashtray. A wave of nausea took hold and I ran to the bathroom and emptied my stomach.

Gathering all my strength, I walked over to the bed and let myself fall into it. I grabbed the closest pillow and inhaled deeply. It smelled like a mixture of beer, sweat and soap. Indulgence was mine. I was entitled. After the last six months of my life, I was entitled to love him just a few minutes longer, before I resumed my life as it was before he came and ruined it again.

There was no erasing Seth Whitaker. There was no erasing yesterday. And tomorrow, I was sure I would be clinging to this pillow for dear life if I didn’t do something about it now. I picked up the closest thing to me—an ice bucket—and smashed it into the wall, shattering the handle. Nothing. It did nothing for me. I glanced at the stupid fool staring back at me in the mirror. Her green eyes were swollen and glaring at me. Her menacing stare was full of hate. Her jaw was tight and her lips were barely visible due to her pressing them together firmly in a thin line. She was the ugliest woman I had ever seen. But beneath the surface of that pale skin was something far worse…a heart that was still beating for him.

I quickly turned away from her and rid the bed off all the sheets, ripping them from the corners and emptying the pillowcases. I pulled my cart in from outside and began to scrub every inch of the bathroom. I threw the sheets in the laundry bin and put fresh linens down. I scrubbed every surface of the bathroom and sink. Grabbing the trash, I took one last look around. I had done it. In just twenty minutes I had rid the room of all traces of him. Still, he was there. My eyes burned again with fresh tears and I quickly dismissed them with my shirtsleeve. Enough.

Declaring my indulgence over, I pulled the door open and was met by a burst of sunlight. I covered my eyes to ease the tension of it beating on my brow and turned to steer my cart into the shadows under the awnings of the adjoining rooms. I crept past the rooms pushing my cart, knowing full well the squeaking sound would irritate the sleeping guests. I quickly threw the sheets laced with his scent into the dumpster and looked around as though I were guilty and hiding evidence.

I suppose I could’ve just laundered them, but the temptation to take in the scent of him was too strong. I quickly grabbed a bottle of bleach and poured it over them, ruining my chance of any more indulgence. It was a stupid thing to do, but I am a stupid woman. I made my way back to Room 212 and shut the door. I took a scalding hot shower to wash off all traces of his mouth. I slipped under the covers and begged sleep to take me.

I had never expected to feel anything like this again, especially pleasure, love, and pain. I hated the fact that I still could. I hated the fact that the very reason I had avoided feeling anything for so long, was the very reason I was in the mess again.

My name is Laura Sedgwick and I hate love. It had ruined every single day of my life for as long as I could remember and today I declared war on it, for the second time.

I sat in the middle of the park on my plush pink blanket staring at my toes. There were people everywhere, but I had never been much of a people watcher. I had always been an introvert, unless I saw something I wanted. Then I would carefully study whatever or whoever it was and find a way to make it mine. I had my black bikini top on and cut-off jean shorts and I had just brought all of my long, thick, brown hair on top of my head, securing it into a tight knot without a hair tie. It was one of the perks of having hair like mine. There were a couple of guys out who pretended to casually glance my way, but none who seemed brave enough to pass the façade of my back off bitch body language.

I was notorious for attracting unwanted attention. And while most days it got me far, today this girl was so far from that girl that no one would recognize me. I was not in the mood and desperately needed sleep. I had been up all night racing around trying to find my brother, Dave. He was my only lifeline and I had failed at every attempt to find him. Dave had never made it home last night, so I drove around aimlessly checking my pager, searching our local hot spots. Forced to give up over four hours ago at sunrise, I thought myself pretty clever to get sleep in the public park as though I were trying to soak up some sun. The truth was I had no place to sleep. I had lost everything, trusting the idiot I had claimed as a boyfriend for the past two years. As of last night, the key to unlock the door to escape to my most favorite place and comfort in the world— my bed— was useless. He could keep it all.