I wanted something more. Someone else. And not just physically. I wanted the woman who was my perfect match in every way. The one who challenged me, who supported me. The one who complemented my personality traits, filled in the gaps where I wasn’t whole. I swallowed a huge lump forming in my throat, trying to suppress the coughing.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Sorry.” I finished with the violent coughing, reached over and finished my glass of ice water and plunked it down next to her wineglass. “Inhaled the wrong way, I guess.”

She slapped me halfheartedly on the back. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” I said hoarsely, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

She smiled, parting her swollen lips. “It’s okay. Where were we? Oh yes. Right…here,” she said, laying her hand on the inside of my thigh and leaning in again. She slid her hand up and it landed right on top of my hard cock. I let out a quick breath and pulled her hand away.

“What’s wrong?” she said, pulling back to look in my face.

I heaved a great sigh and leaned back. “It’s too soon,” I muttered, looking up at the ceiling.

Carissa wrinkled her nose at me. “You like taking things slow?”

I almost laughed at that. In the past I’d had no qualms about going to bed with a woman I’d recently met. I’d never had a one-night stand, but I’d never had a romantic relationship either. Not until her. She’d changed everything. And I was beginning to fear that there was no going back to the person I’d once been. Did I even want to?

“It’s too soon after my last relationship. I’m sorry. You are an amazingly gorgeous, sexy woman, as I’m sure you know.”

She laughed. “Doesn’t mean I mind hearing it, though, from a hot guy like you.”

I grinned. “I’m sorry. I’m still feeling a bit wounded.”

I expected one of two things. She would either get pissed off or offended that her magical beauty couldn’t make me forget about my issues, or she’d try harder to win me over.

But Carissa surprised me yet again. She tilted her head to the side sympathetically. “You want to talk about it? How long were you with her?”

“About five months. I really thought she was the one, though.” My arms stretched along the back of the couch and Carissa sat back, watching me.

“She didn’t feel that way, I take it?”

I looked at her for a minute. “No.”

Carissa smiled. “Well,” she said, raising her brow and tilting her head at me fetchingly. “I’ve only just met you, but I think she’s pretty stupid.”

She leaned over and kissed my cheek. It was a pity peck—but I guess in the place of a pity fuck, I’d take it.

We talked for another hour or so until Jordan came out of the bedroom with a towel around his waist and looked at us, obviously in shock that we were still fully clothed and not in some kind of lip-lock.

I offered to drive Carissa home so her roommate could stay the night with Jordan. She invited me inside, but I declined. I went home alone, to a dark, empty house, but stayed away from my dark, empty bedroom. Instead I went to my office and opened up my laptop and coded on the new secret project until the sky outside started to lighten and I dozed off, my forehead resting on my crossed arms. We programmers called that “trance coding.” In reality, I was using the time to avoid the demons that haunted this void of a home.

I wondered when things would start to feel normal again. When I could slip back into my old life like the last six months had never happened. But I was beginning to wonder if that was even possible. I was miserable now. Should I give it longer?

One of two things would occur—Emilia would leave and I’d have to figure out a way to move on then or I could give in and go with her, if (and this was a big if) she’d take me back.

And as the days stretched on with her gone, with the memory of those soulful eyes staring at me across a crowded conference table, I began to think that becoming Maryland’s newest permanent resident was a small price to pay to have her in my arms again.

Chapter Twelve

The next day, Saturday, I had an appointment with my friend Lindsay to show her an apartment I owned in Orange. Since I hadn’t seen her in a while and since I was feeling like I had too much time on my hands (even though I was still working seventy hours a week), I offered to show it to her myself and buy her lunch afterward. Emilia disliked Lindsay and she had good reason to. Lindsay and I had been sexually involved when we were both a lot younger—I’d been just finishing high school and she’d been a first-year law student working for my uncle’s firm. But it wasn’t our past that had put Emilia out. It was the fact that I’d once used Lindsay to make Emilia jealous. She hadn’t tolerated that at all.