I’d never given much thought to my lone wolf status before, thanks to my hectic life and the fact that I had no time to nurture a friendship with another woman—or anybody, for that matter. Now I hate it because I have no one to talk to about what’s happening between me and Lucian. I need a freaking sounding board, a vagina monologue confidante to tell me what the heck is happening to my previously reasonable mind. As it is I’ve been skipping around and singing—singing, for God’s sake—since we made love. It’s been over a week, and I still feel like I’m walking on marshmallows or something. Just tragic. “I need your help with homework, Ash,” Ben whines from the kitchen table, bringing me back from my misery. I stir the homemade spaghetti sauce before going over to him and looking down at his reading card. “What’s the problem?”
