Bloggers and reviewers… if you wanna know about the hot mess that is Adam, go ye therefore and request!
PRETTY PLEASE… there are huge spoilers in this book for those who haven’t read the first one…and, well those waiting on it. So if you do read it, and review, please keep that in mind and let people know if you’re posting spoilers. Pretty please?
Adam didn’t know what drove him.
He didn’t hear anything.
He didn’t see anything.
But awareness rippled through him, his skin prickling as he slowly lowered his hands and lifted his head, staring up through the night at the darkened house before him.
There, at the window of the room he’d given her. He saw nothing, save the ripple of the curtain, the pale material pulled back.
Then, something shifted and she appeared. All he could see was her hand as she lifted it, pressed it to the glass.
The next few seconds were just a haze on his memory. He didn’t remember crossing the sidewalk, unlocking the door. He might have ran, raced the entire way and he could believe it, because when he came to a halt in the doorway of her room, it seemed like an eternity later, like an instant later, and his breath came in harsh, ragged pants.
She stared at him.
If she’d looked worried or nervous or startled, he could have turned and walked away.
She just stared at him, the sexy, sleek, horn-rimmed glasses a shield, hiding luminous eyes. In the dim light of the room, he couldn’t clearly make out her face but he didn’t need to. Every feature was etched on his memory. From then to now. He could recall her in detail.
He crossed the floor to her, his boots thudding on the floor, his heart thudding against his chest and his breath still coming in harsh, uneven rasps.
He reached up and pulled the glasses off, waited for her to do something, say something.
She should, he thought. She would. She wasn’t one of the women who came to him for this, who know what he was…
Suddenly shame twisted in him.
Rita had needed just that from last night. Comfort. A friend in the night. If he’d let her turn to him, maybe she’d be alive. But he hadn’t been able to give it to her and now she was gone.
And he didn’t care. Oh, he cared about the fact that his friend was gone, but instead of mourning her like he knew he should, what he wanted to do was just reach for her and have what he’d wanted, needed. As he worried, as he wondered, as he needed and prayed and tried to lose himself in everybody but the woman he wanted.
Adam looked down, stared at the glasses he held. Walk away. He needed to do that.
He needed to walk away, if for no other reason than because he needed to be able to live with himself in the morning. He was used to being used. He used plenty of women. He had to do something to numb the pain, smother the guilt. But he couldn’t use her—she was the source of his pain, his guilt, his need…his everything. And it would kill something inside him if she just wanted to use him.
Swallowing the bitter ache that had settled in his throat, he blindly shoved the glasses at her.
She caught his hands. One gently took the glasses.
The other curved over his wrist.
He stared, mesmerized as she slid a hand up his forearm, pausing to scrape her nail along one of the chainlinks he’d inked onto his skin over the years. His skin burned under her touch. Walk away…walk…
Only he didn’t know if he could. Not now. He would lose all self respect in the morning, but he had so little left anyway, what did it matter? It would kill something inside him, but there wasn’t anything there worth saving.