by Noelle Adams
“I’ll see you all in the morning,” Anne said. She went to the stairs and glanced back once at Robert over her shoulder.
He wondered if she was feeling the same way he was.
She’d told him just this morning she didn’t want him to kiss her again, touch her again. She didn’t want to be with him again.
But things felt different now.
Robert felt different.
He went to his bedroom and took a shower, trying to pull himself together and figure out what he needed to do.
When he turned off the water, he knew.
There was only one thing he could do.
He pulled on a pair of shorts and walked down the hall to Anne’s bedroom.
He knocked softly on the door.
Life was too fragile. Too short. Too uncertain.
You needed to hold on to the things that you loved.
So he wasn’t going to do it.
He wasn’t going to spend another night without her.
ANNE WAS ON THE VERGE of tears for no particular reason, so she took a shower when she got back to her room.
Part of her—a big part of her—wished that Robert had said something, made a move, spent the night with her. She needed someone right now, and she wanted that someone to be him.
But she’d told him she didn’t want that. He would respect what she’d said. He wouldn’t continue to make moves on her when she’d asked him not to—no matter how much she wanted him to right now.
So she needed to be strong. Keep it together. Remember she was restarting her life and standing up for herself. That meant finally leaving him behind.
She’d had her chance with him. She’d blown it.
Redos weren’t normally allowed in this world—not when they meant knitting back together broken hearts.
She stood under the shower, keeping her head out so her hair wouldn’t get wet, and cried for a minute—just a release of emotional tension. She was drying off when she heard a knock on the door.
She threw on her little knit bathrobe and ran to open it, praying it wasn’t bad news from the hospital.
It wasn’t bad news.
It was Robert.
He stood in her doorway, wearing nothing but gym shorts. Damp hair. Heavy eyelids. Hungry, needy eyes.
She opened her mouth to say something. Ask him a question. Find out what he was doing here.
But she knew what he was doing here. She knew it as clearly as if he’d spoken it out loud.
He needed her right now—the same way she needed him.
She stepped out of the doorway to let him in.
He gazed down at her for a long moment, his eyes moving from her face to her hair clipped up messily on her head to her bathrobe that wasn’t securely fastened and coming apart to reveal her cleavage.
The hunger in his eyes intensified.
“Tell me to leave,” he said at last, his voice no more than a thick rasp.
She wanted to be strong. But pushing him away right now felt like the weak thing to do. The easy thing.
The braver thing was to take exactly what she wanted—no matter how hard it might be.
She whispered, “Don’t leave.”
He let out a slow breath and then tilted his head down.
She stretched up to meet him, wrapping her arms around his neck as their mouths met.
He gathered her up in his arms as they kissed and carried her over to the bed. It felt natural. Exactly what she wanted. His arms holding her close, his strength bearing her weight, the knowledge that they were in this together.
The light in the bathroom was still on, but she hadn’t turned on the lights in the bedroom, so the room was dim, surrounded by dark corners. She could see the lines of his face though. The high cheekbones. The strong jaw. The wide forehead. Every thick, dark hair in his eyebrows. The bristles on his chin.
He adjusted her so he could yank back the covers before he laid her down on the sheets.
She pulled him down on top of her, unwilling to break the embrace even to take their clothes off.
He settled on top of her, their legs combed together and his weight propped up on bent arms. His blue eyes searched her face urgently in the low light.
She thought he would say something, but he didn’t. He just kissed her again.
This time his tongue slid across the line between her lips until she opened for him, and she moaned deep in her throat as he stroked the inside of her mouth. She tucked her arms beneath his so she could run her fingers up and down his back, feeling the rippling muscles and firm contours of his body until she reached his ass.
He grunted when she squeezed him there. He was already growing hard against her belly.
When he finally broke the kiss, he didn’t raise his head. Didn’t speak. He pressed kisses all over her cheeks and jaw and then trailed a line down her neck. He paused over her throbbing pulse point in her throat.
She squirmed and rocked beneath him, already so aroused she was aching between her legs and aching even more in her chest.
In her heart.
Her need for Robert was so much more than physical.
It always had been.
He pulled up enough to slowly undo the tie of her robe. He gently—almost delicately—pulled the fabric apart to reveal her naked body.
Her breasts were full and heavy and falling slightly to the sides because of her position on her back. She looked down at herself and then up at Robert’s urgent face. Saw nothing but need and desire and appreciation and something else. Something akin to adoration.
Her body washed with pleasure that was so much deeper than lust.
He lowered his mouth to one of her breasts. Tweaked the nipple with his tongue a few times before he started to suck.
She arched up, groaning wordlessly as she experienced tugs of stimulation between her thighs. She bent up one knee beside his hip and tried to rub herself against him. She grabbed fistfuls of his hair and held on.
He kissed and caressed her until she could hardly stand any more. Right before she was about to push him away from her breasts, he rose up and stared down at her again.
She could only imagine how she looked. Flushed and damp with perspiration. With tousled hair and wild eyes and swollen lips.
His eyes blazed as he kissed her mouth again.
She freed one of her legs from between his so she could wrap both her legs around his hips. She rubbed her aching clit against the bulge in his shorts with an eagerness she wasn’t even embarrassed about.
Robert could see her. Completely. Every part of her. And he clearly wanted what he saw.
The kiss went on for a long time until he finally tore his mouth away with a rough groan. He straightened his arms, raising his upper body until she wound her legs from his waist. Then he adjusted himself so his weight was on his knees so he could reach over to grab her purse from the nightstand.
He handed it to her, and she dug out a condom packet.
He put her purse back as she tore open the packet, and he watched her hungrily as she rolled the condom on for him. He checked its position before he moved back between her legs.
The only sound in the room was their urgent breathing and the dull roar of the waves outside. He bent one of her legs and pushed her knee back toward her shoulder as he slowly edged himself inside her.
He felt big and thick and tight, and she arched and rolled her hips to adjust to the penetration. He waited until she’d relaxed before he started to thrust.
His hips rocked against hers, and the stimulation sent shivers of pleasure through her body. She twined her arms around him and pulled him down into a kiss.
He deepened the kiss almost immediately, his tongue moving with the same rhythm as his pelvis. Her mind clouded with emotion and sensation as they moved together.
She had no idea how long it lasted. It felt like a long time. It was exactly what she wanted. She hated the idea of this ending.
Robert’s body grew tighter as the minutes passed. S
he repositioned her arms so she could run her palms up and down his back, enjoying the tenseness of the muscles. Then she slid them down to his ass, thrilling at the rhythmic clenching of the muscles.
When her fingers explored the cleft between his legs, he huffed and broke out of the kiss.
She kept exploring. He moaned low and long and accelerated the pumping of his hips.
He was going to lose it soon, and she suddenly wanted him to. Wanted proof that he was as helpless against his feelings as she was. She rubbed him more intentionally.
He let out a loud sound that was almost a bellow as he came hard, jerking and bumping against her as the spasms of climax shuddered through him.
“Fuck,” he gasped against her neck as his body started to soften. “Oh fuck.”
The first words either of them had spoken since he’d kissed her.
She was smiling when he lifted up to look down at her. He shook his head and kissed her softly before he carefully pulled out of her and tied off the condom. He got up to throw it out in the bathroom. She heard the water in the sink.
Then he came out, got into bed, and moved over her again.
She was about to say something. Anything. But he kissed her before she could. Then he slowly made his way down her body, kissing and caressing her until she was writhing with pleasure again.
When his mouth reached her hot arousal, she was gasping and tossing her head. He parted her thighs. Held her open with his fingers. Then he flicked her throbbing clit with his tongue.
She came almost immediately, and she hadn’t even come down when he was sliding two fingers inside her, pumping as he sucked hard at her clit. She came again and again until she was drenched and sobbing.
He made her come one more time before he stopped. He removed his fingers. Pressed a soft kiss on her belly. Then he moved back up her body and took her in his arms.
He held her as she panted and tried to recover.
She felt protected. Taken care of.
Loved.
She wondered if it was real. If it was possible.
She’d never stopped loving him, but it had never occurred to her that he might feel the same way. That what they’d had could be recovered. That their broken hearts could be put together again.
Nine
ROBERT WOKE UP IN ANNE’S bed the next morning.
He’d slept late—much later than normal. The sun was bright as it streamed through around the edges of the blinds, and the air in the room felt warm and thick.
He was sweating. His face itched, and his arm was sore. He blinked his eyes open and stared up at the unmoving ceiling fan.
He was hot because Anne was almost on top of him. She’d been snuggled against his side when he went to sleep. He remembered that distinctly because he’d loved how it felt to hold her that way. But she’d rolled during the night, and she was half on top of him, her cheek pressed against his bare chest and her soft weight pressing down into him.
His arm was caught beneath her body. That was why it was sore and tingling from lack of circulation.
He tried to pull it out from under her and couldn’t.
He breathed deeply and tried to cool down. Really wished the ceiling fan was on.
His leg was throbbing with a dull ache from using it too much the day before.
He was trapped here in a hot bedroom. Anne sound asleep on top of him.
And he didn’t even mind.
He kind of liked it.
He liked how she was sleeping so deeply. How completely natural she seemed in the bed with him. At home. No reserve or inhibitions. How she was clinging to him.
Like she trusted him. Even in her sleep.
He’d felt that way before back in college. She’d been this way with him back then. And he’d assumed that meant they loved each other completely and would build a life together.
A jolt of fear sliced through him so powerful it stole his breath.
This was how he’d felt for Anne six years ago, and he’d come away with a broken heart that had never fully healed.
He couldn’t do it again.
He couldn’t.
Not unless he knew for sure it was safe—that his heart wouldn’t be broken again.
He wasn’t going to invest in this any further until he knew it would last forever this time.
He wasn’t sure he could survive losing Anne a second time.
He lay and brooded over possibilities, growing tenser and tenser as the minutes passed. Finally, on the verge of panicking, he yanked his arm out from under her and sat straight up, shaking his arm to restore circulation.
Anne stirred and cleared her throat. When he looked down, her eyes were open. Big and brown and heavy-lidded and familiar. One of her cheeks was redder than the other from being pressed against his chest, with the slight imprint of his chest hair.
Shit. He loved her so much.
He couldn’t lose her again.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hey. Sorry I woke you.”
“That’s okay. I want to see how Riot is doing anyway.”
Riot. Robert had almost forgotten the poor girl was injured. What a selfish asshole he was.
He rubbed his face and tried to wake up more. Tried to figure out what he should say.
“So,” Anne said, sitting up on the bed like he was and pulling the covers up toward her waist. She was wearing nothing but a T-shirt she’d pulled on after sex last night.
“So,” he repeated, turning to look at her. He needed to say something. Something good. Something smart and cool and balanced. Something that would lead to the answers he needed without leaving him open to complete rejection.
He couldn’t think of anything to say at all.
“What should we... what should we do now?” she asked, clearly as awkward as he was.
“I don’t know.” He was telling her the complete truth. He genuinely had no idea what to do. What to say.
What to feel.
She took and released a breath. “Last night was... really good. Special.”
That was encouraging. His back straightened slightly. “Yeah. Yeah, it was.”
“But maybe that’s all it was. One special night.” She stared down at the covers before she darted a quick glance back up to him. “Unless... unless something has changed?”
His heart dropped. He heard the faint question in her last sentence, but he had no idea how to answer it.
What was he supposed to do right now?
Ask her to marry him?
He couldn’t. He couldn’t. Not when the idea of it filled him with the most intense kind of fear he’d ever experienced.
Anything he was still that afraid of couldn’t be right.
So he didn’t say anything. He couldn’t make his voice work anyway. He just sat and gazed at her, feeling like a fool, feeling like an asshole.
She released another breath—thicker this time. Then she nodded and slanted him a little smile. “I think it should be just the one night. There’s too much between us that’s never been resolved, that can’t really be resolved. It’s too much. Too... too hard.”
His heart was sinking. So slowly it took a moment to recognize it. But it ended up in the pit of his stomach, making him sick.
But all he did was nod.
She was right. She didn’t want to deal with all their mess, which meant she didn’t love him the way he loved her.
And he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t take the risk.
Couldn’t hope to make her love him when the likelihood would be losing her again.
He couldn’t go any further down that road until he knew where it ended.
This time he needed to know for sure that she wanted him forever.
Anne cleared her throat and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “It’s better this time,” she said, her voice almost perfectly even. “We didn’t have any real closure last time, but we have it this time. So I think both of us will be better off to... to start our lives again.”
&n
bsp; He didn’t want to start his life without Anne.
He didn’t want to do anything without her.
But if he couldn’t have her all the way, then he couldn’t have her at all. He managed to nod and force the words out. “Yes. Closure is good.”
She gave him one more quick glance before she got up to head for the bathroom. “I’m going to take a shower,” she said before she closed the bathroom door.
Robert sat on the bed for a long time, trying to pull himself together so he’d have enough composure to return to his own room.
He made it eventually.
THE NEXT DAY, ANNE rode home with Vince, Em, and Robert.
Riot was improving, but the doctors didn’t want Riot to travel yet, so Liz was staying in Virginia Beach with her. Robert’s friend gave them the use of the beach house for another week, which was incredibly generous of him. But the rest of them had jobs to do and family at home, so they left Liz and Riot behind.
The drive across the state was miserable.
Vince and Em tried to make casual conversation, but Robert pretended to sleep the whole time, and Anne was so upset she couldn’t do anything but sit in silence.
When they’d finally gotten home, Anne had to clean up the mess her sister and brother-in-law had left in the apartment over the weekend and then go grocery shopping for the week. She didn’t mind. It gave her something to do.
Something other than cry over Robert.
It was just after eight when she’d finished her chores. She was tired but afraid of relaxing. Afraid that she’d burst into tears and never stop crying. So she went outside to take a walk. The sun was setting, but it wasn’t completely dark yet, and there was plenty of landscape lighting around the property.
She was starting around the path that led to the perimeter of the property when a voice called out for her.
She paused and looked behind her to see Em approaching, dressed for exercise and doing a fast power walk.
“Hey,” Anne said, smiling at her friend. “Don’t expect me to keep up with you.”
“I’m not. I’ve already gone around a couple of times. We can walk slow.”
“I’m not that slow.”
Em gave a huff of laughter at Anne’s dry voice, but her eyes searched Anne’s face. “What happened with Robert?”