Erik was still asleep when I awoke. He was lying on his stomach with the comforter bunched around his hips, his long legs peeking from underneath the covers. A sliver of sunlight streamed through a tiny gap between the vertical blinds, and I could hear the sounds of people moving about on the Strand.

I pushed a lock of hair from his temple and smiled. The world outside our window was wide awake and here we were, spent from a night of making love. It was so unlike the awkward gropings of my past, almost every memory clouded by cheap alcohol and sometimes, fear.

This time, I came into this with a mind that was completely aware of what I was doing, with no excuses to hide just how far I'd fallen for Erik. I'd laid my body and soul bare to him last night, and as I watched him sleep, I felt the ache in my chest grow, like a dark stain spreading. It was that fear of losing him - and it was already taking hold.

I rolled away from Erik as carefully as I could, not wanting to wake him. I needed to get out of bed and join the land of the living, I told myself, where heartbreak awaited in every corner. I just needed to come down from the clouds, pinch myself and pray this wasn't all a dream.

As I sat up on the edge of the bed. Erik's bedside clock glowed 8:45 a.m. as sunlight touched his hair, casting a reddish glow.

I found my workout clothes in the dryer, and I put them on though I couldn't find my shirt. So I slipped Erik's shirt back on instead and went about brewing coffee in the kitchen. Though Erik had said something about doing something together the next morning, and getting an early start, I didn't wake him. Sleeping in would do wonders for him while I could start a new painting in the studio, I thought. I opened the doors to the deck to let the ocean breeze in and watched the Strand start to fill up with people. In the distance, I could see tents being set up and realized that there was a volleyball tournament going on.

From the kitchen, I heard Erik's phone ring a few times before it went to voicemail. Then the coffee maker beeped, signaling the end of the brew cycle.

I was taking the first sip of my coffee when I heard the sound of roller blades rolling against the hardwood floors. Serena rolled past me, then backed up, and turned to face me from the opposite end of the kitchen island.

"Who the hell are you? And where's Erik?"

Seeing Serena in person took me by surprise. Hearing her talk to me that way annoyed the hell out of me. "I'm Sam," I said, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. "And Erik's still in bed. I just might have tired him last night. And this morning."

She stared at me, her eyes widening. "You must be Samantha, that artist he's been trying to find."

"Well, he found me."

"He sure did. I hope you had a great time fucking him, Samantha. Because you're just one of his rebound girls." She must have seen the look on my face, the confidence that fell from my face.

"You really think he's going to stick with you?" She continued. "Erik and I have been together for eight years, honey. That's more than most people even stay married. Which means, when he's done fucking your ass, he comes right back to me. You should have asked all the other girls before you decided to go for him."

"Erik's not like that," I said. I could feel my jaw tighten, and my neck muscles grow tense. I felt that pain in my chest grow, like that stain I dreaded would come.

Serena chuckled. "Tell yourself that when he stops calling you, honey."

"My name isn't honey," I said.

"I can call you whatever I damn well, please. Honey," Serena said, reaching down to unbuckle her rollerblades. "You might as well get on home because he's going to be busy from here on."

"You leave him alone," I said, walking around the kitchen island towards her. Serena kicked off her rollerblades and took the first step up the stairs.

"What are you going to do?" She laughed. "Are you really going to stop me from going up to see my boyfriend? You, the one night stand? Wake up, honey. Your one-night stand can't hold a candle to my eight years with Erik. You better thank your lucky stars I'm not calling the police on you and accuse you of trespassing."

This time, I stared at Serena, suddenly fed up. "You're crazy," I said. "You're absolutely crazy."

But Serena wasn't listening anymore. She was running up the stairs and calling Erik's name. Cooing. He's not a baby or a dog, I wanted to scream at her, but it was useless. The moment Serena mentioned the word police, something in my brain clicked. It reached into the depths of my memory, during those days when I was fearless, not caring whether I was being booked for being drunk in public - and a minor at that - or for shoplifting. I couldn't allow that to happen anymore, not when I had Michael. Not when David was waiting for me to make one mistake.

This wasn't worth it, I thought. And I wasn't about to be the one caught on the rebound. Let her have Erik, I thought, grabbing my waist pack as Serena disappeared up the stairs. I ran out the door and began to run.

I should have known this was going to happen. Some things were just too good to be true.

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

Erik's car was parked in my driveway behind my car when I got home. He was pacing by my front door. When he saw me, he heaved a sigh and met me before I got to my door. He looked exhausted, worried and upset, all at once.

"Why'd you run?"

I needed a few minutes to catch my breath. "I don't want to be your rebound girl, Erik."

"Who the hell said you were? Is that what Rena said to you? That you're a rebound for me? And you believe her?"

I couldn't look at Erik's eyes, but when I finally did, I realized how wrong I was to believe Serena's words and doubt him. But how could I not doubt him and his intentions? Serena was a fellow doctor, and they'd been together for eight years-

"I wouldn't be here right now if you were a rebound, Sam," he said, gathering me into his arms and holding me till I started crying, my exhaustion finally catching up with me.

I didn't know why the tears started coming down, but they did. Maybe it was the way he held me so tightly that even though it was difficult to breathe, it felt so good to be in his arms, to feel his heart beating, like a validation I'd been waiting for outside of his bed - that I was more than just someone to sleep with.

Or maybe I was just tired of running.

"You've got a royal bitch for an ex-girlfriend, you know that, right?" I said, still breathing heavily.

"Why do you think I dumped her?" Erik chuckled dryly, still holding me in his embrace.

"She said you always go back to her. Is that true?"

"I won't lie to you, Sam. I used to," he said as I pulled away. "But it's been eight months since I've seen her, since I broke up with her for good."

"But if you're not seeing her, are you still sleeping with her? Friends with benefits, that kind of thing?"

For a second, Erik looked angry. "Why would I do such a thing?"

Because you're a man, I wanted to say. "I don't know what's going on with you two, but she believes that she has every right to you, and I'm just nothing but a one-night stand."

"Is that what she told you? I thought I made it clear to you last night, Sam, about how I feel about you," Erik said. "What more do you want me to do?"

"Nothing," I muttered, pulling myself away from his embrace and fumbled for my house key from my waist pack. I needed to sit down. I unlocked the door and walked in, hearing Erik close the door behind him. I peeled off my socks and kicked off my shoes. I was too tired to offer him anything. Tired and sweaty and ugly.

I wanted to move away from the experience of meeting Serena. I didn't want her to ruin my day any more than she already did.

"Anyway, I don't want to talk about Serena," I said.

"I don't either." Erik's face broke into a small grin, and I giggled, the tension between us broken. Why was I taking my anger out on him?

"I need to brush my teeth and hop in the shower," I said. "I'm too gross right now."

"No, you're not," Erik said. "But if you are hopping in the shower, would you like some company? I'm afraid I need one, too. And there is a water shortage going on in California, you know. We'll be saving water."

"My shower's not as nice and as big as yours, Erik. I don't know if we'll fit. It will be tight," I said, heading to the bathroom, with Erik right behind me.

"I like it tight," he teased.

"Oh shut up," I said, as I turned on the water and I peeled off my top and shorts. "I'm only doing this because of the water shortage, by the way."

He was leaning against the doorway, with his arms crossed in front of him, watching me. I should have been embarrassed but after the last few hours spent with Erik, it was like I didn't have much more to hide from him. Erik knew me more than any other person in the world, even the scars that I hid from everyone else.

As the shower heated up, I turned to look at him. "Well, what are you waiting for? Water's a-wasting, young man!"

Erik joined me in the shower, and I was right - it was a tight fit. But I was too sore for sex, and he was too worried we'd tear down the flimsy tub doors if we tried. It was one of the things he'd need to replace with sturdier ones, Erik said, as he soaped my back and washed my hair, gathering it into a ponytail in his hands and tugging on it playfully. I shampooed his hair and sculpted it into a Mohawk the best I could.

Twenty minutes later, and most likely, worsening the water shortage situation in the state, my skin had wrinkled, and I ended the shower session with a blast of cold water, catching Erik by surprise. Even he had to admit that we both needed it, or a tub door would have to come down. Besides, we needed to get out of the house and get away, he said when we got to my bedroom to change.

"Get away?" I asked as I dried my hair with a towel. "What do you mean?"

"I don't want to go home, not after what happened with Rena," Erik said as he dressed. "But I was thinking maybe we could get away from here for awhile. What do you say?"

"I don't know."

"C'mon, Sam, just you and me out there where we can put some distance away from everything."

"Not too far, though," I said. "I get nervous about being too far from Michael. I mean, in case there's an emergency."

Erik sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled me close. "When was the last time you got away from here?"

I thought about it for a while, trying to remember when. But I could only think of Disneyland, which was only fifteen miles away. "Does Disneyland count?"

He laughed. "No, it doesn't. Come on, Sam, get your bag ready. Just a change of clothes for tonight and tomorrow, maybe a swim suit if you don't want to go skinny dipping, and let's get away for the weekend. We'll be back by five tomorrow. What do you say?"

"Where to exactly?" I asked. "It can't be too far away, like San Francisco."

"What about Ojai? It's about two hours away, and I know a place where we can stay for the night - an excellent bed and breakfast."

"Can we split the cost-?"

He placed a hand on my lips. "Now you're just insulting me, Sam. The answer is no."

It didn't take much longer to convince me to get away from any more run-ins with Serena and maybe get some inspiration for my next painting. Ojai was just north of Los Angeles, along the coast and the drive alone would be relaxing. Erik already had a change of clothes in the trunk of his car, for whenever he needed to spend the night at the clinic during the expansion, which was still ongoing.

Within half an hour, my bag was packed, and we were on our way. It was interesting to watch Erik as he drove. The exhaustion seemed to have left him, and the circles under his eyes faded. He smiled even more than I'd seen him smile before, and I'd never heard him say more corny jokes than ever I did that day.

He called the bed and breakfast just as we left Manhattan Beach. A woman answered, and I heard an audible gasp on the speakerphone when she heard his voice.

"Of course I have room for you, Erik! I hope you don't mind the Pennyroyal suite. All the single rooms are taken."

"It's got a queen-sized bed and a sofa bed so you can have some privacy if you want," Erik said, muting the phone as he spoke to me.

"Oh, please, Erik," I scoffed. "We don't need separate rooms — unless you want us to." After all the things we'd done last night, it would seem silly to go through the trouble of having separate rooms now.

"Of course, I'll take it, Aunt Helen," he laughed after clicking the un-mute button. "What time is check-in?"

"When you get here, what else?" Helen Morin chuckled over the speaker-phone. "It'll be fun to see you again, Erik. It's been awhile."

"It has," Erik agreed, a certain melancholy descending on his face as he spoke. But it soon faded away, replaced by his wide smile.

We arrived at a small bed and breakfast called the Rosemary Inn just before noon. There was no one at the front lobby other than a sign that said Be Right Back and Erik led me to one of the chairs so we could sit and wait.

Helen and Craig Morin had moved into the bed and breakfast five years earlier, leaving their Hermosa Beach house to their only son, Josh. Josh and Erik had grown up together, going to school in Manhattan Beach before going their separate ways after high school. While Erik pursued kinesiology, Josh traveled the world for a few years. He even worked on a cruise ship.

"Is he still working on a cruise ship?" I asked as Erik took two ice-cold bottles of water from the mini-fridge behind the counter. I remembered Olivia mentioning Josh's name a week earlier when she said that Erik had gone running with him. "Wait, Erik, are you supposed to go back there?"

"It's fine," Erik said, twisting off the cap from one of the bottles and handing it to me. "No, Josh doesn't work for the cruise lines anymore, though he did do other stuff. He came back home the same time I got into med school."

"So what does he do now?"

The door from the garden opened and we both turned to see who it was. Erik laughed, surprised to see someone he didn't expect. The other man was tall, with wavy blonde hair, startling blue eyes and tanned skin. He reminded me of a surfer, with his broad shoulders and easygoing attitude.

"Hey, Josh! I didn't know you were here," Erik said.

"I was just leaving - got to work tonight," Josh said. "Mom told me you called, and she kicked me out of the suite so she could give it to you. Nah, just kidding. I was staying at the casita down at the back, as usual." He turned to look at me. "So is this your mystery girl?"

Erik beamed. "No longer a mystery to you, dude," he laughed. "This is Sam. Sam, this is my friend, Josh."

"Nice to finally meet you, Sam," Josh said, shaking my hand. He grinned, though, in his eyes, I could see that he was someone who never forgot a face. He hadn't forgotten mine.

It was part of his training. For after five years working on a cruise ship, Josh returned home and became a police officer. After that, he promoted to detective.

I knew this was because he'd accompanied the responding officer when neighbors called to complain that David and I were fighting. It was the same night David broke my wrist after the officers left. And just when I thought it was the last I'd see of Josh, he ran past the house two days later and saw my wrist in a cast. I remember how he'd asked me then how I'd broken it then, and I told him that I'd fallen in the garden.

And from the way Josh looked at me now, as he glanced down at my hand which he still held in his, I doubted he would have believed my answer now either.