I went to kiss him and his mouth landed on my cheek. I clamped my arms around his neck, kissing him at the base of his throat. “Adam,” I whispered. “I want you. Tonight.”

He tensed. It was for a split second before it was gone. He said nothing, stroking along my spine with one hand. “I’m really tired tonight—”

He didn’t want me. I swallowed and almost pulled back, almost pulled up my shirt like Kat had suggested. But it was very difficult to change Adam’s mind once he set it on something. And he seemed dead set against touching me. I just wished I knew why. Was he really that scared about us making the same mistakes? Or was it his anger, still, at the circumstances around our breakup? Was it fear that he’d hurt me? My stomach dropped…was it resentment over the pregnancy and the abortion? Or was he just not interested?

“I know you said you wanted to go slow but I didn’t think that meant at a glacial pace…”

A smile tugged at his mouth and he ran the back of his finger across my cheek. I swallowed and closed my eyes. “I’m sorry, Mia. I promise we’ll hang out all day tomorrow. I’m not going in to work again until next week.”

I blew out a breath and he bent and kissed me again, this time on the mouth, as if that would appease me. I almost—almost—grabbed his head and forced the issue. He had to be at least a little horny, tired or no.

I had no idea and no clue how to even go about finding out what his basic issue was. I could ask him, of course. But would I get the truth or some bullshit answer about how he was too tired to answer me? I let out a small sigh and pulled away, planting a brave smile on my face. “I’m sorry about the long work days. I know you were just trying to get over those and it seems like with the time you take with me while I’m sick, you have to work twice as hard when I’m feeling okay.”

“I don’t mind. I want to be here for you.”

“Kat can be with me now, on those days. It can’t be pleasant listening to me puke my guts up all day.” And probably the biggest turnoff ever. How could I possibly expect him to desire me after that?

He frowned. “She can be here for you, too. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to be. You are my top priority.”

“I love you,” I said, my voice growing more and more quiet as the conversation continued.

He leaned in and kissed my forehead, the tip of my nose, my chin. “I love you, too. Goodnight, sweet Mia.”

I slumped into my room but didn’t close the door. I didn’t close the door these days, full of the hope that he’d be tempted to slip inside. There were enough barriers between us. I didn’t need the physical ones. I knew that if I lay down on the bed now, I’d be tied up in my own sexual frustration for hours. So instead, I went into the bathroom—leaving that door open too—and filled up the large overflow bathtub with hot water.

After a few minutes of soaking, I fantasized about him coming into the bathroom, pulling his clothes (for some reason they were wet and clinging to his muscular frame) from his body and sinking into the bathtub with me. He’d rub me down with his soapy hands until every inch of me was tingling and screaming for his touch. And then he’d pull me on top of him, enter me while putting his mouth on my breasts.

I moaned and put my hand between my legs, picturing his beautiful body. The last time I’d seen him naked was when we’d been together in Vegas. But that time, it hadn’t been about making love. There’d been very little love that night. That had been us coming together because we couldn’t stay away. It had been explosive and erotic and utterly intoxicating. But it had resulted in disaster. A moment that had forever changed our lives and that had possibly broken us. And that, at least, had been all my fault.

Getting myself off these days was always tinged with that guilt—as if some part of myself didn’t believe I deserved to feel sexual pleasure ever again. I still did it but I couldn’t enjoy it the way I had before. The way we had enjoyed each other. And it occurred to me then that this might be the real reason that Adam couldn’t touch me. Because of that last time.

And now it was occurring to me that that last time might possibly have been our last time ever.

Chapter Eighteen

Adam

After brushing my teeth and changing into my pajamas, my thoughts roiling with our conversation over and over again, I’d decided to go back into Emilia’s room, just for a little while. I hadn’t touched her in any sort of erotic way for over three months. Sure, I was starved for it, and apparently she was too. I’d been keeping her at arm’s length but I could tell she was growing exasperated.