I wanted to fight. To be mad and tell him that he had no power over me—even though he did. “Well, you did hurt me, just not in the way you think.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m walking home.”
“What? You’d better not be by yourself. Tell me that Megan is with you.”
A sharp stab of rage boiled over. “I’m not a child. I can walk two blocks by myself!”
I hung up the phone. I was so sick of it all. Sick of being pitied, sick of feeling like half a person. The call with Adam hadn’t made me feel any better. Of course, the alcohol churning in my gut wasn’t helping either. I looked both ways before crossing the street.
I finally reached my building and rounded the corner toward the front entrance. I gasped in shock. “You’ve got to be joking.”
Adam paced near the front door and when he saw me, bolted toward me.
“How the hell—”
He didn’t slow down until I was against him. Breath knocked from my lungs as he wrapped those strong arms around me.
“You said you were two blocks away from your home. Which is also a couple of blocks from my office.”
“You were at your office?”
He nodded. I noticed that his five o’clock shadow looked more like ten. He must have skipped a day shaving. He was in jeans, plain black shirt, and leather jacket. It just wasn’t fair for one man to be that gorgeous and dangerous looking. His McLaren was still running and parked right in front of my complex.
“Come with me.” He motioned to his car.
“I can’t.” I used the most authoritative tone I could muster.
“We need to talk, Katelyn. Get. In.”
I pulled away from him and put a good three feet between us. Crossing my arms over my chest, I pursed my lips.
“You want to hash this out here, then?” He stepped closer, shoving all that masculine swagger into my personal space.
I glared at him.
“I can see in your eyes that you have much more you want to say to me.”
That was true. I did. I wanted to scream and yell and hit him. Then I wanted to kiss him.
“There are a few things I’d like you to hear from me as well.”
His stance was strong, one that dared anyone to defy him. But there was a softness behind his deep voice that made my better judgment melt. I wanted to listen, to speak, to just be in his presence. Getting this close to Adam again was a suicide mission, but I had to. For no other reason than I was addicted. Maybe if I heard the words come from his own lips—if he just told me that he’d used me and didn’t want me anymore—than I could completely let this go.
I walked to the passenger side of his car and he opened the door for me. We drove in silence to his high-rise apartment, which was in the middle of downtown and not far away. I don’t remember much of the elevator ride, but I did see that he hit the top floor button and had a key to the elevator. When the doors opened, it delivered us straight into his penthouse.
Everything was modern. Immaculate, but sterile. Not an ounce of warmth—only function and high-end décor that he’d obviously paid someone else to impose. It now made sense why Adam had called my little shoebox of a home “cozy.”
He put his hand on the small of my back and led me to the kitchen. The entire floor plan was open and spacious, and the massive living room windows overlooked the water. I sat down at the breakfast nook. He placed a glass in front of me and remained standing.
I palmed my forehead and looked up at Adam. “What is this?”
“Water.”
“I know that. I mean this.” I motioned between our bodies. “Do you really get off on toying with people?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Then say something, Adam. Anything.”
“You misled me, Katelyn. You should have told me you were innocent.”
“What would it have changed?”
“Everything!” He ran his hand through his hair and took two steps to the side before facing me again. “The way I handled you in my office—was that a first, too?”
“Yes, it was. And I’m an adult and can do what I want. Just because I was a virgin doesn’t mean it puts some kind of responsibility on you.”
“The hell it doesn’t.” Why was he mad? I thought the whole losing-your-virginity thing was important only to girls. All that mattered to me was Adam, and why he’d treated me the way he had, then left.
“I didn’t want you to be with me because you felt guilty or obligated.”
“Those two things are the furthest from what I feel for you.” His eyes bored into mine. “Are you on birth control?”
“Why does that matter? You wore a condom.”