He laid awake in bed gazing up at the ceiling, wondering when he would be able to fall asleep tonight.  Like any other night, slumber evaded his efforts and he was left physically and mentally drained.  His olive green eyes turned to the alarm clock and he heaved a sighed. 

3:00 a.m.

This was becoming ridiculous.  He should really seek some form of medicinal help.  When he noticed his sleepless nights, Juan told himself that it was stress.  He tried herbal teas, warm milk, physical exertion yet nothing seemed to work.  He didn't want to think about the reason for his sleeplessness.  He didn't want to conjure up emotions and thoughts of her ghost.  A couple of years had already passed since her departure.  

Kat.

Kat Stone.

Kat Ambre Stone.

He missed her.  Just when their relationship was becoming more serious, she had accepted an offer that would launch her modelling career to higher heights.  Two years, five months, thirteen days, and six hours later yet all the counting in the world wasn't going to bring her back.  In the beginning his pride had gotten the best of him.  He had convinced himself that the continental migration was for Kat's best interests.  A deeper part of him--his heart--was telling him he was full of shit. 

He knew it.

Even his cautious brain knew it.

After what took place between him and Blue, how he had easily fallen in love with her and swore with all of his being that they would be together only to have her run into the arms of Tyler Tingulstad, an old lover he never even knew existed, Juan was left love shy and afraid to trust any woman with his heart.  Blue had not intentionally hurt him.  In fact, if he had laid his heart on the line and told her about his plans for them, perhaps she would have forgotten all about Tyler.

Hell, not even he could forget the guy.  He was amazing and a great person.  Smart, attractive, hilarious, and down to earth in spite of his wealth.  Tyler could make a leopard give up his spots for him.  Juan knew he never stood a chance from the beginning even if Blue had told him about Tyler.  He should have laid his cards on the table, but even then he was apprehensive...wanting to take things slow and allow her to play the field when she showed more than a little interest in getting back in the romantic game.

Forgiving her for her indirect hurt took longer than it should have.  Forgiving himself for allowing a woman to slip through his fingers had taken days, if his memory served him correctly, months even.  Now, he had let another good woman slip through his fingers.  He was a fool.  Kat, though she never told him so verbally, loved him, and for all of his bluster and standoffish attitude, he more than loved her back.

Falling in love with her had been so quick that Juan never had enough time to think about his fall.  The bruises were well warranted and needed for him to feel again.  She made him feel too much too soon, and because of her mere presence overwhelming his senses, Juan had practically shipped her off.  He wanted to see her.

In the beginning they had attempted to maintain some form of contact, a message here, a call there, a picture sent every now and then.  However, life had a way of separating loyalty.  She became more engrossed in her modelling while he took on more and more projects to ease the pain of gradually letting her go.  Juan was a firm believer in life coming back to you full circle.  He knew without a doubt that he would see Kat again.  The only question remaining is, would she want to see him too? 

Lies.  

There was more than one question.

Was she still single?  Did she still love him?  Did he even cross her mind from time to time?  Only time would tell.

He woke up too early for comfort, his body stiff from sleeping in an awkward position all night.  What time he fell asleep, he didn’t know.  He completed his morning ritual, taking extra time in the shower to allow the hot, cascading stream of the water to wash away his aches. If only it could remove the aching of his heart. Frustrated, he slammed his balled fist against the shower wall and heaved a broken sigh.  When would this hurting stop?  When would he stop thinking about her?

Probably never.  He toyed with contemplations of calling her, hearing her voice, listening to her rhythmic breathing as silence accompanied them.  What would he say to her?  I’m sorry would be a start. He cut the water in the shower, wrapping a thick towel about his waist as the clear liquid left a trail where his feet fell against the cool, tile floor.  He wiped the fog away from the mirror, leaning his big palms on the white porcelain as he stared into his olive green eyes.

“Pull yourself together, Juan,” he encouraged.  “This was for the best.”  As if protesting his statement, the mirror clouded over leaving a partial reflection of his handsome visage to stare back at him.  He knew he would be late for work if he continued this way.  He just couldn’t seem to muster up the energy to get his shit together.  The sound of a door slamming several times informed him of a visitor. 

Girding his towel tighter about his body, Juan strolled out of his steamy sanctuary and rolled his eyes.  “Terry, what the hell do you want and why must you do it here?”

Terry flashed a white, even smile, her blond hair trailed slightly over her left shoulder as she inclined her head to in sympathy.  “Juan, we haven’t been spending time together like we used to do.  I miss my best friend,” she whined.

“Couldn’t you have called to tell me instead?”  He ambled about his room in search of a pair of pants to throw over his naked backside.  He was trying not to glare at her, but he was not in the mood for visitors.  Not even if his visitor was a petite blond who always somehow pulled him out of his depression even when he wasn’t ready to leave.  He wasn’t ready to leave.

“Apparently not.  You’ve been avoiding my calls...Blue’s calls...Kit’s calls.”

“I get it.  I’m sorry. I’ve been under the weather lately,” he mused, removing the towel from about his waist to store on the towel rack in his bathroom.  He caught another glimpse of his reflection and almost winced.  He needed to shave and he needed a haircut as of last year.  His thick fingers coursed through his thick, black mane before a grimace covered his face.

“Juan, we’re all worried about you.  Not to mention you haven’t seen your god-son in a while.  He misses you.”

His heart constricted in his chest. He missed the little booger too.  He would do better.  “That’s a low blow, but well warranted,” he called back to her.  He rubbed his stubble and rolled his eyes when Terry joined him in the bathroom.

“All is fair in love and war.  You should leave the beard. It looks good on you.”

Her compliment caused his cheeks to tingle.  It wasn’t from attraction, more so embarrassment.  Sometimes he forgot his own appeal.  “What do you want, Terry?  I have to get to work soon.”

“Call out for the day and spend it with me.  You know I’ll cheer you up,” she boasted, rummaging through his colognes.  She squirted one on her wrist and wiggled her eyebrows in approval before spraying it on his exposed chest.  “I’m taking you to lunch and a movie.  It’ll be our own best friend day!” she squealed, not giving him the opportunity to accept or deny her proposal.

“Terry, we can’t all shirk our responsibilities like you do.”  He felt the semblance of a smile tugging at the corners or his lips and repressed the feeling.  He would not give in to her although he usually did.

“I hate to break it to you, Juan, but the clocks were supposed to be pushed back last night.  You’re an hour ahead which means you’re already late for work.”  She broke into laughter at the comical look on his face.  Her belly began to ache as she tried to hold it together. “You might as well call out,” she told him between hooting on his behalf.

He had to see it for himself.  Leaving the bathroom, he rushed to his alarm clock then just to be certain he checked his cellular phone.  She was right.  “What the hell,” he conceded.

"I promise you won't regret this," Terry told him with a grin.  She rushed downstairs to put on a fresh pot of coffee while Juan finished dressing.  By the time he reached the kitchen he also had buttered toasts with a pealed apple.  "Come grab some breakfast."

"Breakfast?" Juan snorted though he joined her.  This was more like a snack to him than a real meal.  It was just what he needed.  He didn't realize how little he had been eating over the past several months.  He listened to her recount several jokes and smiled in appreciation of her company.  Terry was right; he needed to get back to living life again.  He was willing to take the first step.

"You might want to change your shirt. It looks brand new," she told him as she cleaned the table.

Juan put the orange juice back in the refrigerator before washing up the small amount of dishes they had used.  "Why?"

"We're going paint balling.  You need to get rid of some aggression.  Let out all that hurt."

He rolled his eyes, "I don't have any pent up aggression."  He laughed in discomfort as he shrugged his shoulders.

"You expect me to believe that Kat's departure didn't change something inside of you?  Please, Juan, you became a recluse.  You hole yourself up in your house and only come out when you're going to work.  Taking it from the looks of your fridge, you haven't really been grocery shopping in a couple weeks. You--"

"Okay, okay, I get it," Juan replied more forcefully than he meant to sound.  "I'll go and change."  His big feet resounded loudly against the floor as he climbed the stairs to switch outfits.  When he returned he was in a completely different set of cloths yet nonetheless attractive.  He noticed for the first time that Terry was dressed in baggy cargo pants and a black, form fitting t-shirt.  She retrieved an invisible hair band and tied her hair up high on her head in a bun.

"Are you ready to get your ass kicked?"

"Are you ready to kiss my ass?" Juan quipped.

Terry's head fell back as she hooted with laughter.  "Oh, how I've missed you.  Let's get out of here and go get that Latin ass handed to you."