I glanced at the window. The curtains had not been completely pulled to cover it so I pressed my face against it, cupping my hands to look inside. And I couldn’t see a damned thing because it was so dark.
“Adam?” I called through the window giving it a bang with my fist and then waited. Nothing.
For long moments I refused to let myself believe that he wasn’t on the other side of that door. I knocked again. Called again. My stomach twisted until it threatened nausea. Oh God—Oh God! He’d left. I gasped for breath. He’d packed up his stuff and gone even though he told Mom he wouldn’t be leaving until the morning. He’d driven away while I was in the shower. Fuck.
I had to go after him. There was no other way. I could chase him down to OC tomorrow but who knew where he’d be or how I could find him? I didn’t have his number because it was in the contacts of that damned phone I’d given back to him. I had his e-mail, but he’d just told me he was going without e-mail contact during his break from work.
I knew where he lived and could go to his house, but if he was planning a leave of absence from work, who knew where he’d be tomorrow—maybe on a plane to somewhere far away?
Tears threatened at the realization that he was gone. The tiniest of voices in the back of my head asked what if I never saw him again? What if I never heard his voice? Or felt his arms tighten around me? What if I never knew love like this ever again?
Nearly paralyzed with grief I spun and pressed my spine flat against his door, my mind racing to come up with a plan. I’d run and grab a pair of jeans and my keys. I’d get myself down the mountain tonight. He was two hours away. I’d bang on his door at one in the morning if I had to.
Shit. I struggled to breathe, tears coating my cheeks now. How could this be happening? My back slid along the door until I sat at his doorstep. I pressed my face to my knees, helpless with the loss. I’d only just managed to acknowledge that I could have these feelings—that the world would not implode if I allowed myself to love a man.
This man. This wonderful man. He was gone and I’d paid dearly for my stubbornness. This love had cost me more than three-quarters of a million dollars. It had cost me my heart.
And there was no buying it back—at any price. It belonged to him. Forever.
If he still wanted it after I’d shoved him away. Fool, Mia. Coward.
I sobbed into my hands, unable to find the strength to follow through with my plan. The will was draining out of me and threatened to leave me in a pool of misery right here on the porch of this little cabin. My shoulders shook and I was thankful that there was no one out here to hear me wailing like a baby.
And God only knows how long I would have allowed myself to sit there, a pathetic, weeping mess, if I hadn’t heard the scuff of shoes stepping across the porch, coming to a stop right beside me. I looked down at a pair of big feet in sneakers—the same ones Adam had worn when we’d gone running a couple nights before.
I froze but I kept my face covered. He didn’t move for a moment and then sank onto a knee to look into my face.
“Don’t you think you’ve done enough of that for one day?”
My breath was painful in my chest and my head bounced back against the door behind me. I looked at him through swollen eyes as, humiliatingly, I hiccupped. “I thought you left.”
He frowned. “Tomorrow. I was feeling restless tonight. Went for a little walk.”
I stared at him dumbly, unable to find the words to match this jumble of feelings inside me. They were tangled, like spiderwebs all sticky and matted inside my chest.
We stared at each other for a long, tense moment and I found that I was barely breathing. My chest would rise just enough to catch a mouthful of air before it blew back out again. His gaze intensified.
“Do you want to come in or would you rather sit out here?”
Without a word, I snuffled and struggled to my feet. Adam rose and opened the door, which, I only then realized, was unlocked. He flipped on a light and held the door for me, as if unwilling to turn his back on me for fear that I might bolt out into the night again.
And yeah, I might have been inclined in that direction, but he blocked my easy escape, so I inched into the cabin.
I threw a glance around the room, saw the stack of books on his nightstand, one opened and facedown on the bed, Segment Hiker’s Guide to the Pacific Crest Trail. My eyes darted back to where he waited, just inside the closed door.
My entire body started to shake—like an unattractive shivery kind of shake. He watched me from the doorway, attentive to my every move but standing stiffly, unmoving.
Those dark eyes gave nothing of his feelings away. He was waiting for me to do the talking. I was the one who’d been blubbering like an idiot on his porch, after all.