Hugh and Joe would come around to the idea of her and Adam together soon, wouldn’t they?
God, she hoped so. For all their sakes.
~ * ~
Lucy hitched her bag higher, and walked out of the elevator on Adam’s floor. It was late and she should probably have called to let him know she was coming over after work, but she was worried if she told him she was coming he might not be there when she arrived. She silently scolded herself. Adam wouldn’t do that. She was just being paranoid. They’d spent their first night apart last night and she was trying not to read too much into it, but it was getting damn hard, especially when he hadn’t returned her call last night either. Oh, he’d texted her back, saying something had come up and he couldn’t come over, but even the tone of the text felt off.
Ignoring the nervous flutter in her belly, she knocked on the door. Nothing. She tried again. She was starting to think he wasn’t there, but then she heard footsteps coming toward the door. The flutters got worse.
The door opened and Adam filled the space. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants, no shirt, and his hair was sticking up at odd angles. This apartment was dark behind him.
“I woke you,” she said.
He shook his head. “I couldn’t sleep.” He didn’t seem surprised to see her, and she struggled to stay where she was and not launch herself into his arm when his gaze moved over her in that familiar way.
He rubbed his hands over his face, giving his head a little shake. “Come in, Luce.”
And then he said it, the dreaded words.
“We need to talk.”
She knew what those four words meant, of course she did. But, God, how she didn’t want to believe that this was the end for them. She’d known it was coming. She’d known since their first night together. He’d told her himself that he didn’t want more, that a relationship, a commitment, wasn’t for him. Somehow she’d momentarily forgotten that, had stupidly allowed false hope to grow and bloom.
She knew better.
They stood in the middle of his living room, staring at each other. His gaze moved over her face, lingering on her lips before lifting back to lock with her eyes.
“Luce…”
She forced a small smile, even as emotions raged through her. “I knew what this was when it started. You don’t have to explain.” Her heart fractured when he didn’t try and deny it, when he didn’t say she was wrong, that he loved her as much as she loved him.
Shit, did that hurt.
Jamming his fingers through his hair, muscles dancing and shifting under his tanned skin, he took a step closer. “I’m sorry. I just…I can’t be what you need, I can’t—”
“Bullshit.” The word exploded out of her mouth before she knew she was going to say it. She’d planned to bow out gracefully, but screw that. Not when he was going with that tired old line. “Don’t.” She held up her hands to stop him from coming any closer when it looked like he might. “Don’t do that. Don’t make excuses. Don’t try and tell me you’re doing this for my own good. That’s a cop-out and a weak one at that. I think you know how I feel about you, and I think ending it like this—you playing the martyr—keeps me where you want me, hanging on a string, trailing behind you in case you decide to man up and accept what’s between us. So, until that day, if it ever goddamn comes, you can carry on with your pointless existence, screwing around…nothing too hard or messy. Nothing real.” She backed away. “So don’t you do that. I deserve better than some overused line, and as it turns out, I deserve better than you.”
His throat worked several times, like he was trying to keep it together as well. She inwardly locked down the sympathy trying to surface. No. She wouldn’t feel sorry for him. He chose this, to end it, rather than take a chance on them.
“Why don’t you just say it?” she snapped at him. “Tell the damn truth for once.”
His jaw worked, but he kept his lips firmly closed.
“You’re a lot of things, Adam Grady, but I never thought a coward was one of them.”
His entire body had gone still, every muscle in his arms and chest bulging and jumping.
Backing away, she pulled the door open. “And just so we’re clear, I’m not your friend. We weren’t that before all of this, not really, and I don’t want that now. Don’t call, don’t text, don’t come to the trailer.” Then she walked out the door, pulling it shut behind her.
~ * ~
Adam stared at the closed door, clenching his teeth so damn hard they ached. Every muscle in his body throbbed from holding himself back.