Adam, Enough Said (This Can't be Happening)

by LeeAnne, Lynda

  “I’m so close,” I breathed and Adam lifted his hips higher, and I ground down on him with everything I had.

  “I can feel it…so fuckin’ perfect,” he groaned against my lips and a few seconds later…that was it. My arms wrapped around his neck, my nails dug into his back and I wrenched my mouth from his to bite his shoulder as I came harder than I ever had before.

  His shoulder muffled my release.

  “Mia…shit," he hissed in my ear, his fingers pressed deep into my hips and I felt him spill inside me as I continued to rock on him, desperate to prolong my orgasm.

  Finally, when I slowed down and it was all over, I released his shoulder from my teeth and could have sworn I blacked out. It was the only explanation. He’d always been good in bed, but I’d never had it that good.

  It’s because he’s had plenty of practice since me.

  I stiffened, mortified at the thought. And then I was being picked up and carried.

  “Nuh-uh, no fuckin’ way, Baby. Do not get lost in that head of yours.” He tapped my ass. “Wrap around me tightly,” Adam ordered like I wasn’t already holding on for dear life. He lifted and climbed off the bed in one smooth motion.

  “What are you doing?”

  “We’re showering,” he said as we entered the master bathroom. He put me on my feet, reached into the shower and turned it on. I covered my breasts with my arm, stood in place and watched him in all his naked glory. The muscles in his back were perfectly sculpted, and for a man, he actually had a nice round ass. You could even see the indention that dipped between his hipbone and his waist.

  His thighs were thick and I already knew he had a washboard stomach, though I couldn’t see it from where I was standing. When he stuck his hand under the water to check the water temperature, the muscles in his triceps were outlined to perfection.

  And there I stood.

  I didn’t have a perfectly sculpted anything. I was short, thick in the hips, round on the bottom, heavy on the top and my triceps sure as shit didn’t show just by sticking my arm out. My only halfway decent feature was my flat stomach, but even that wasn’t defined in any way. It didn’t matter that I worked out four times a week and ate fairly decent, I was still never going to look good standing next to Adam.

  I never had.

  “Baby, you okay?” Adam asked, cutting off my inner bully and I met his eyes.

  “Uhhh…yeah. Why don’t you go ahead and shower? I’ll just wait --” I stopped when he took a step.

  “And have you run off on me? I don’t think so. And stop hiding yourself from me.” He grabbed my hand - the hand that was attached to the arm covering my breasts - and tugged.

  “Adam, stop,” I rushed when he started pulling me toward the shower. “I don’t want to shower with you; it’s too…intimate.”

  He whipped around.

  “What the fuck?” he breathed. “We just had sex. What’s more intimate than that?”

  “Still the same jerk,” I muttered and he stiffened. “Sex is sex, and that’s all we had, Adam. Something you do the same with everyone else isn’t considered intimate. Showering together is intimate.”

  “You know, Freckles, you’re right. But what we just had wasn’t sex… that was make-up sex.”

  I gasped. “No it wasn’t! That was letting-you-have-your-way-with-me-so-you’d-finally-divorce-me sex!”

  When I finished, I snapped my mouth shut and my lips thinned when I realized too late just how stupid I sounded.

  “Excuse me,” he growled.

  Oh no.

  “Never mind,” I rushed.

  “No, explain right the fuck now, Mia, but I’ll warn you. It won’t matter what you say ‘cause what’s done is done.”

  “Now what does that mean,” I snapped back.

  “What that means is your fate is sealed. You’re staying. Whatever the fuck you have with Max… that prick,” he muttered, before continuing, “…is finished. You’ll get your stuff, your clothes and you’ll move back in here…to your house…to this house.” He pointed to the floor. “You don’t want this house anymore or if it brings back too many bad memories for you, we’ll buy a new one. But you can be mad at me, you can hold your grudge, you can continue to hate me for the past, but you’re gonna do all that in the same motherfuckin’ house I’m in.”

  I stared at him in complete and utter shock. It was the only thing I could do in that moment. We stood in the bathroom completely naked about to throw down and I wanted nothing more than to rip his arrogant head off. I knew it was ridiculous, but a piece of me - a small sliver of a piece - missed this.

  Our spark.

  That was what we always had between us, a spark that, when put together, was electrifying… or electrocuting.

  I was sick in the head.

  “Turn off the shower,” I ordered deceivingly low.

  Adam narrowed his eyes and he didn’t move right away, but after a stare down that only lasted seconds, he caved. While he did that, I snatched a towel from the rack and wrapped it around myself as though it was some sort of shield.

  Then, I stormed out of the bathroom, made it to the middle of the room, turned, and not surprisingly, Adam was right on my heels.

  Still naked.

  “Can you put on some clothes or something?” I asked and he frowned and looked down at himself. He scanned the floor, picked up the boxer briefs I assumed he was wearing last night, and put them on.

  “Okay, spit it out so we can get this shit out of the way and move on with our day,” he said in a huff after he finished.

  “You’re such an asshole. After six years, you’re still the same asshole!”

  “No, after six years, I’m still your asshole. That’s why you’re so pissed. Because you’re just now realizing you could have been with me this whole time.”

  “Oh my God! You’re not my anything, Adam! What is the matter with you? You always were the caveman type, but this is taking it a little too far… even for you. It’s been six years. I’m nothing to you except the lowly wife you refuse to divorce, and you’re nothing to me except the man who ripped me to shreds. And stop pretending the sex we just had was more than it was when you’re in this house with a different piece of ass every night and have been since the day I fucking left. All I’m asking from you is to sign a little piece of paper that will get us out of the mess we never should have gotten ourselves into.”

  And with that, his lips tipped up and he snorted.

  My eyes grew huge, but his conceit fueled my wrath. “Have you lost your mind?” I shouted.

  He shook his head and smiled like he just had an epiphany. “Nope. What I lost was you, but now you’re back, and now I’m not letting you leave me.”

  I closed my eyes and took a few…no numerous deep breaths before I decided to continue with this insane, seemingly one-sided, conversation.

  “Please listen to me. I’m not just mad at you, I actually hate you. There is no us, never will be. You broke me in places that can never be repaired. You lied to me, you cheated on me… whether it was a case or not, but what’s worse is you did it all at a time when I needed you most. I was pregnant and scared - we were newly married and I was sad, because I couldn’t make you happy. I needed you. Looking back, you could have walked out the door or kicked me out at that time and I wouldn’t have been as crushed.”

  “Baby --”

  “And all the women after me…God! I lost my baby, and your mom passed away and only months later you were bringing women here like what we had meant nothing to you. I was such a fool!”

  His cocky smile turned into a scowl. “Our baby,” he growled. “And what the hell are you talking about? What women?” he snapped at me, but I shook my head.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Mia, what fuckin’ women? I’ve only had three other women in this house, one of them my mom, the other two I didn’t fuck. When I got laid, I got a hotel room or I went to her place.”

  I slammed my eyes shut.

 
“And I didn’t check the exact date, but I didn’t touch another woman until the day you asked me for a divorce. So tell me… what fuckin’ women are you talking about?”

  “You’re a liar,” I whispered. “Will you ever stop lying?”

  His body visibly went rigid. “I’ve never lied to you. I made bad decisions. I kept things from you that had to do with a case - one that I took for the wrong reasons. I was fucked in the head after you got pregnant and I realized too late that I was losing you, but I have never lied to you.”

  I shook my head and continued speaking in a low, painful whisper, “Eric told me. He wouldn’t lie to me. I was desperate to come back. Even after everything you did to me, I wanted to come back and beg you to take me back. That’s when he told me. To save me. It was only a couple months after your mom passed. Eric said he saw you out, followed you home and that you weren’t alone.”

  I kept shaking my head. “Eric would never lie to me,” I finished, but all Adam did was stare.

  “Are you fuckin’ kidding me right now?” he asked with a hint of danger.

  I just shook my head.

  “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him,” he muttered, before roaring, “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him!”

  He walked toward me, and for every step he took, I took a step back until my back hit the wall. He didn’t stop until he was cupping my face and tilting it up to meet his.

  “Other than going to work, I didn’t leave this house for months. I was sick and depressed… Hell, I was suicidal. I lost you and I thought I killed my baby, Mia. You seriously think I’d bring bitches home so soon after that?”

  I didn’t know what to think. Why would Eric lie? He wouldn’t.

  “I didn’t sleep with another woman until after we met and you asked me for a divorce. I won’t lie about that. I’ll also tell you that I’ve been with plenty women since then, but probably a hell of a lot less than you think. I didn’t realize it until I saw you sitting in that room last night, but I was only passing the time, Mia. And the only reason I hadn’t realized it sooner was because I never thought I’d get another chance with you.”

  “You don’t have another chance with me,” I whispered and I watched, in slow motion, as Adam’s lips tipped up.

  “Yeah, Freckles, I do and I’m taking it.”

  I shook my head in a mixture of denial, confusion and just plain terror.

  “I need to go home.”

  “You are home,” Adam replied, so fast it was like he’s had the answer his whole life.

  Oh my God.

  Tears pricked my eyes.

  “This isn’t my home. I’ve never had one,” I breathed and watched as his expression grew tender.

  “Yeah, Freckles, you did and you do, and that home has always been with me. So get your shit together and get over whatever doubts you have going on in that head of yours and realize that. And while we’re at it, I have plenty of money and a lot of friends, some of those friends are lawyers and judges. You don’t play this my way, I will play dirty. I’ll make sure you’re ordered to live in this house with me. Either that, or I’ll burn your place down.”

  I gasped. “You’re insane. Can you ever just act like a normal guy instead of a cocky asshole?”

  “Nope, then you wouldn’t like me so much.”

  I sighed. “That's the thing, Adam... I don’t like you at all. I hate you, which is exactly why I’m not staying here...ever.”

  I said I hated him, and I did, but why didn't I feel as strongly about it?

  "Fine, I'll stay with you." And as soon as the words left his mouth, I felt my world crashing around me. I felt sick.

  "You can't. Can we please stop talking about this?" I begged.

  "I can --"

  "I'm moving in with Max," I blurted out. Adam's hands fell away from my face like I burned him. The devastation on his face rocked me on my feet, but I hadn’t meant to say that.

  Max had asked me to move in with him, but I hadn’t said yes.

  "You love him," he accused.

  No!

  I wanted to scream, but I couldn't even open my mouth for fear I'd shout, "I love you!"

  I didn’t love Max. There was no way I'd ever be able to love anyone other than Adam, but I couldn't go back. How ridiculous would I be if I admitted that I still loved him after six years? And our past? I still wasn't over it and wasn’t sure I ever could get over it. He'd hurt me so badly I was surprised the scars hadn’t magically engraved themselves into my face for the world to see.

  We couldn't just change an entire past with one night. And there were still so many unanswered questions.

  "Get dressed and I'll take you home," he spat the word. "Unless you'd rather me call Max to come get you."

  "Please stop. It's been so long...six years, Adam. You moved on...you never came for me. What was I supposed to do? I had to move on too."

  "Do I look like I fuckin' moved on? Jesus, you're still the most hard-headed woman I've ever met! Did you ever stop to think that maybe I refused to sign the divorce papers because that fuckin' piece of paper was the only way I could hold on to you? I still keep all the furniture in this house the exact same way you left it. And the only reason I didn't come for you is because of what I did," he roared, jabbing his finger in his chest.

  "I thought you were better off without me. But you know what? I'm done. I'm a fuckin' idiot and always have been. When you're dressed, I'll take you home. And don't worry about the divorce papers, I'll have some drafted and sent to you."

  And with that he stormed away and my sob broke free.

  Five minutes later, I got Eric’s voicemail.

  “Eric, it’s me,” I said softly into the phone. “I’m okay, I’m still at Adam’s, but I’m about to go home. I’ll call you again when I get there, but I really need to talk to you. Adam told me things…I just need to hear the truth from you,” I finished in a desperate whisper.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Adam Bryant

  Infuriatingly psychotic knife-wielding maniac!

  Cutting up shit one minute, fucking my brains out, being vulnerable, pissing me off and then finishing it all off with a crying jag. But fuck if I didn't love every single one of her multiple personalities. Half the reason I always said the wrong things around her was because she knew how to flip my switch. To see idiot - flip here.

  Every stupid word that flew out of my mouth was her fault. Her fault! There, I said it. Everything that was wrong with me was her fuckin' fault 'cause she had that beautiful face, that fiery red hair and that mouth.

  I needed a beer.

  No, I needed a goddamn keg to deal with her little ass and it wasn't even noon yet.

  I squeezed the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white, trying to decide what in the hell I was gonna do. I wasn’t divorcing her - that was out of the question - but I had to figure out a way to get her back and saying stupid shit - again, was her fault - wasn't going to help my case.

  I glanced at her again.

  She wouldn’t even look at me, choosing instead to stare out the passenger window as I drove her to her goddamn apartment.

  She was wearing the same clothes she wore last night and the small view of her face that I could see was red from crying, which made me feel even more like a total asshole.

  And fifteen minutes later, when I pulled up to her place, I hadn't figured out a damn thing.

  When I put the truck in park, her eyes hit my face, but they skittered away, so fast I never got to make eye contact.

  "Mia, I'm sorry," I said low, but loud enough to hear.

  She didn't even look at me as she whispered, "I’m sorry too."

  She moved to unbuckle her seatbelt, but I stopped her by covering her hand with mine.

  “Adam, please,” she whispered in desperation.

  “We’re not done. Not even close, Baby. No divorce. I’ll find a way to get you back --”

  “I haven’t told him yes,” she whispered and my heart stopped.

 
“What?”

  “Max asked me to move in with him, but I never told him yes. I just told you that because I was scared and you were pushing me.” She sighed. “I need to think, Adam, and I need to do it without you around. You’re just so…overwhelming. And you were wrong about what you said earlier, I don’t love Max, because if I did, I never would have cheated on him with you.”

  “Goddamn it, Mia. You can’t cheat with your own husband.”

  “Adam, please stop acting like years haven’t passed between us. You came back into my life by accident just last night, and now you're refusing to leave? If everything you said earlier was true, that you never got over me, then why let all this time pass? I can’t help but think it’s because you just found out about Max and don’t want someone you actually know moving in on your property.”

  My teeth hurt from clenching so hard. “You know that’s not true.”

  “Do I?”

  “Mia, I don’t want to let you go, because I still love you.”

  “Do you, Adam? Do you love me, or do you love the memory of me? Because really, you don’t know me anymore.”

  “Yes--”

  “No, don’t say anything. Just think about that. You love a memory of me…a memory that holds a lot of guilt and regret that’s now leaking into the present because we haven't seen each other in so long.”

  “So what you’re saying is you don’t love me?” I asked because what she said was a two-way street.

  “No, I’ve never stopped loving you, Adam,” she admitted in a soft, resigned tone. “But it’s different now. I don’t know you anymore than you know me. Up until the day I left, I used to look at you and get butterflies in my stomach. My world revolved around you. I worshiped you and ate up every bit of attention you showed me. But now when I look at you, all I feel is fear and anger and sadness and…lost. It’s difficult to wade through all of my pain to get to the love that I have for you now, but it is still there. I just don’t know how to stop hurting, or if I ever will.”