Free French Kissing (Restless Hearts) by Hunter J. Keane

face him, so I ran.
    Through the gallery and outside, I ran without looking back. I was sure that once Jake put the pieces together, he would come after me. But I couldn’t handle that, so I ran down the street until I spotted a cab.
    Breathlessly, I huffed out my address and then sank into the leather seat, wishing I could disappear. And as mad as I was at Evan, as much as I wanted to punch him or kick him in the crotch, I was even more mad at myself.
    Jake called three times before I even got home. He left messages each time, but I didn’t listen to them. Whatever he said, I was sure it was going to make me feel even worse. There was nothing anyone could say right now that would take away the sting of what had just happened.
    It took me three day to even be able to leave my apartment. Even then, it was only to get some food. Since I had been doing nothing but sitting at home, eating my feelings, I’d gone through every item in the fridge and pantry.
    Jake called a dozen times every day until I finally sent him a text saying that I didn’t want to talk, text, or see him. It ended up being phrased much harsher than I intended, but it did the trick. He left me alone.
    Jen called just as I got home from the store. She had no idea what had happened, only that I sounded like crap when I answered the phone.
    “Are you sick?” She instantly sounded like a concerned mom.
    “Sick of everything,” I muttered.
    It was the wrong thing to say. Jen was a worrier by nature, and even more so when it came to her little sister.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “I had a… thing happen to me.” I still wasn’t sure whether I should tell her the full story. I didn’t want her to be disappointed in me.
    “A thing?” Her voice shot up three octaves.
    Now I had to tell her. Whatever she was imaging was probably worse than reality.
    I told Jen everything, starting at the very beginning, the night when I met Jake and Evan. While she did sigh disapprovingly when I mentioned spending the night at Evan’s, she huffed much louder at the part about him taking my picture.
    “He’s a scumbag, Cammy. How could you be so oblivious?”
    “He’s a photographer! His profession is taking pictures of people.” I tried to make it sound like it wasn’t that big of a deal, but Jen wasn’t stupid.
    “He didn’t take a picture of you in front of the Eiffel Tower. He took naked photos of you, while you were sleeping, without your permission. Scumbag.”
    In Jen’s world, everything was that simple. I had always thought she was narrow-minded for seeing the world only in black and white, but maybe that type of singular morality would’ve kept me out of my current predicament.
    “If you think he’s a scumbag already, you’re going to really hate him when you hear the rest of the story.”
    At the end of the story, Jen said nothing. Silence meant that she was furious. After a few minutes of silence, I started to worry.
    “Say something, Jen.”
    “Come home.” She sounded like she had been crying. “Pack up your stuff and come home.”
    “What?” It wasn’t something I had considered, even at my lowest moments. “I can’t come home, Jen.”
    She said anxiously, “Yes, you can. Not only that, you should.”
    “There’s nothing for me at home anyway. Not anymore.”
    It was low of me to throw that in her face. She had agonized for months before moving in with her boyfriend.
    “You’re an adult now, Camryn. I can’t give up my life just because you need me to pick up the pieces of yours.”
    Even though her words were harsh, I knew that she was right. I had been selfishly treating her like my mother for years.
    “I’m not coming home, Jen. I can’t just run away from this.” It was then that I realized I had already been running away from it.
    “Okay.” She sighed. “Do me a favor?”
    “Sure.”
    “Get your head out of your ass and give that Jake guy a chance.”
    It wasn’t what I had been expecting her to say at all. For one