Four Temptations by PJ Adams Page B

supposed to be fun, me and Porter. Nothing serious. A bit of a laugh, and a lot of downright dirty sex.
    So why should I care that he was defending the woman he’d finished with?
    Why should it matter that there might still be a spark there? An ember, glowing, just waiting to re-ignite.
    Why?
    §
    There was a small beer garden at the back of the pub. The smokers were out there, puffing away. I pushed past them, suddenly wishing, irrationally, that I smoked, that I could be part of the crowd instead of the lone woman out there for no obvious reason.
    There was a gate in the wall at the end of the garden. I could just leave, quietly.
    But why? This wasn’t like me at all.
    I should go back inside. Get my act together.
    “She’s vulnerable and Simon’s a manipulative bastard, and underneath my charming, playful, very sexy exterior I’m actually quite a sensitive, caring kind of guy.”
    He was standing behind me. Close to me. Not touching, but I could feel his presence.
    “I was with her for four years. I don’t love her any more, but I care. Would you rather I didn’t?”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, turning to face him. In the light from the floodlights attached to the pub wall his features looked even more chiseled than usual, a cartoon superhero face drawn in black and white.
    “I’m talking about you almost running away in response to me showing that I still give a toss. Or at least a bit of a toss.”
    “You’re allowed to care.”
    “And you’re allowed to have complicated, emotional responses to things when you’re in a relationship like this.”
    “A relationship like what?”
    He stepped closer, and put a hand on my upper arm. He’d always had such a sensitive touch for a man who could be so direct.
    “Like us.”
    Silence.
    My head should have been rushing with thoughts but it wasn’t. It was blank, empty. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to react.
    “You’ve revealed something new in me,” he finally said. “A side of me I never knew was there. I didn’t even know what it was until – bang – it was there, inside me, something I had to acknowledge.”
    My mind: still empty.
    “Ellie... I’ve never felt like this before. I–”
    “Don’t say it. Don’t say that word.” Nothing good ever came of that word. Too much complication. Too many layers.
    It had happened before. Men saying these things. It only ever ended in pain and heartache.
    “We were supposed to be fun,” I said. “That was always clear, right from the start, wasn’t it? We’d have fun. We’d play. Keep things simple.”
    “I–”
    “I don’t do that thing.” That sounded much sharper than I’d intended. Porter looked like a wounded puppy, cut through by my words, by my tone.
    “I’m sorry, Porter, but you know that’s true. I don’t do it. I don’t get it. I don’t fall. You mustn’t fall either. Do you understand that?”
    He shook his head. “I’m not on the rebound, Ellie. This isn’t a spur of the moment thing. We’ve been building up to this point. It’s just taken a while for me to understand what’s happening. It’s new for me, too. I don’t do love. That’s never worked for me before. But now, with you–”
    There: he’d said it. That word.
    “No, Porter.” I started to back away. “Just no.”
    I turned, found that gate, pushed through, and I didn’t look back. Not once.
    §
    That word. Love.
    It didn’t work for me. It never had.
    My relationships had been all about fun, about sex, about indulgence. I’d always been the other woman. Even when there had been no other partner, I somehow managed to feel like the other woman, the mistress. I’d kept men distant, while letting them get close.
    Was I heartbreaker? An emotionally stunted slut?
    I stood, alone in the dark, equal distance between two street lights.
    My heart was racing, thumping like a pile driver in my chest.
    I hugged myself, suddenly feeling the night chill.
    Why did I