“Today you ate breakfast, lunch, and supper.” He seemed very pleased with himself. And his nose was a little sunburnt, which was kind of cute. He looked healthy and happy and not weighted down with his cares, which I felt I’d had some influence on.
“I’m going to write your aunts and tell them you’re a natural auntie too,” I said. “A caretaker.”
“Ha. Maybe.”
“Well, you’ve made sure I’ve eaten and showered and kept me busy so I didn’t think about things. I’m starting to actually think I can handle going back now.”
Our eyes met, and I felt a sudden flush of heat. Improbable as it was with me being such a mess of emotion, I became aware that we were on a beautiful island with a gentle breeze and a full moon. He was nice and funny, and I loved his kind brown eyes. I also knew that it was past time to say goodnight.
I would not want to become swept away by the magical beauty of this place. To use it—and him—to forget what was really going on in my life.
Yet being with him these past few days had saved me—from loneliness, from despair, from myself.
I was at a sudden loss for words because I was thinking awkward things. We’d chosen not to say things like, “What doyou want to do tomorrow?” We’d sort of made it a rule to live in the moment, not look too far ahead or too far behind. Except that I was noticing the way he walked, long-legged strides, confidently. I was noticing how big his shoulders were, how lean his waist was. He was naturally curious. He kept up with current events. He read books. We sometimes ran out of things to say, but the silence was never awkward.
In other words, I was liking him way too much. But I was wise enough to know that anything I was feeling couldn’t be trusted.
“I’m going to say good night,” I said.
“Good night.” He made a theatrical bow with accompanying hand motions. Then he reached down and lifted my hand. Held it. Brought it to his lips and gave me a quick peck. “We had fun today, Ani Green.”
“Imagine that.” Despite his joking manner, heat flushed through me. I felt alive, like I wasn’t dead. Which was a miracle. Even the past six months with Tyler, I’d done a lot of faking, a lot of trying, a lot of hoping things would get better. Somehow, these days away had made me feel like there was hope for me to move forward, away from this terrible time.
Adam was staring at me. Our gazes met and held again. The firm but gentle grip of his hand, the soft touch of his lips on my skin; it all awakened something deep inside of me. My heart began a slow knock in my chest that kept accelerating. I knew what was happening. I couldn’t believe what was happening. But the sensible part of me had to stop it.
My hand was tingling from where he kissed it. “I-I don’t do one-night stands,” I blurted, and immediately wondered if I was completely off base. Even if I was, I had to let him know how I felt.
He looked around. “Did…did someone ask you to have one?”
“No! I mean, I’m sorry.” I could feel my cheeks heat up. “I must be getting my balance back because it seems that I just now noticed that you’re really hot.”
That was a mistake. Why hadn’t I toned it down, saidcuteorattractiveorgood-looking? At least I hadn’t saidperfect, which he totally was, with those warm brown eyes and that strong jaw and that I-need-to-shave-twice-a-day five-o’clock shadow thing going on.
“You’re beautiful,” he said with a slightly crooked smile that was very endearing, “even if it was questionable whether or not there were live birds involved in your hairstyle the other day.” I rolled my eyes at that. “I don’t either,” he added, “have one-night stands, that is.”
“I’m in no condition to do something I’d regret. I mean, I can barely deal with putting one foot in front of the other. I can’t add another bad decision on top of everything else I regret.” Although it was questionable if I could ever regret him.
“Agreed,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll say goodbye before we catch our planes.”
“Okay,” I said, pulling my keycard out of my purse. “Thanks for walking me back. The day was fun.” I opened my door and turned to him. “Can you believe I just said that? ‘It was fun.’”
“Itwasfun. Everything these past few days was fun.” He paused, his gaze controlled and neutral. “Good night.”
Maybe it was staring in at my bungalow and suddenly feeling so heartbreakingly alone. Or the fear of returning to reality, only a day away.
Or maybe it was the feelings that had been awakened out of nowhere that kept tugging on me like the tide. Or the warm, salt-tinged breeze. Impulsively, I turned and grabbed his hand. “Don’t go.”
He took a sharp intake of breath. He stared at where I clasped his hand, then up at me, his eyes full of struggle.
My pulse pounded out a quick, steady thrum. My hand was still tingling. Heck, all of me was.
“I’m sorry.” I released his hand. “I—I guess I’m a little afraid of being alone. You know, saying goodbye. You were a nice person to lean on these past few days. I guess reality is just hitting me again.” I turned back to my door to go in.
This time, he grabbed my hand. With a gentle tug, he pulled me to him. I landed in his arms, staring up at him, his arms wrapping around me. We were so close, I could see the way his Adam’s apple moved when he swallowed. The arch of his brow, the set line of his jaw. A warm breeze teased us, ruffling his hair. The moonlight emphasized the heat in his eyes.
He let go of my waist and said in a throaty voice, “Ani, I think you’re really fun and really special. But I don’t want—I don’t think this is a good idea. We’re both too?—”
I don’t know who kissed whom first, but I found his soft, warm lips on mine. My arms tangled around him, my hands skimmed the long, elegant planes of his back, his neck, the thick silk of his hair. Our kisses grew deeper, more fervent, desperate. He traced a trail of them down my neck, making me gasp, before we both somehow managed to stumble through the doorway. We ended up against the wall, his body pinned against mine, all hard muscle, soft murmurings, and featherlight touches as he reached his hands under my blouse and stroked my back.
