She’d sworn that her happiness would never again depend on another human being. Now here she was, unreasonably jealous one minute, melting with affection and desire the next. And all because of Alex.
It was after midnight, and everyone else was asleep. Holly was pacing back and forth in her room. No, not her room—Alex’s room. In Alex’s house. After her parents kicked her out, she’d sworn to herself she’d never live even a day in a place that wasn’t her own. A place someone else could kick her out of.
Not that Alex would—but he could. Anytime he wanted to, he could.
She opened her door and moved softly down the hall, pausing a moment outside Alex’s door.
She closed her eyes, memories of their lovemaking making her shiver. Alex had ignited her, body and mind and heart and soul, and the heat between them had burned away all barriers until she hadn’t known where he ended and she began.
And that might be a nice way to feel in bed with someone, but then you had to get out of bed and on with your life. And that’s when the feeling became terrifying. Holly was used to knowing exactly where she ended and other people began. Feeling this…connected to someone just wasn’t something she’d ever signed up for.
She forced herself to start walking again, down the hall and down the stairs. Once on the first floor she turned on a few lights, enough to see her way as she wandered from room to room of the house she’d grown so comfortable in.
She felt connected to Will, of course, but that wasn’t the same thing. She was the mom, so her job was to be in control, to be responsible. With Alex, she felt…carried away. Out of control. Her feelings for Alex were growing faster than she could analyze them, and already they seemed somehow exponentially beyond analysis, as if she were trying to use a microscope to study the sun.
Being that connected to someone meant pain if they left. Feelings of helplessness, loneliness and neediness. Feelings Holly had sworn she’d never go through again.
She’d walked through every room downstairs and now she paused in the front hallway, turning on the light switch, the soft glow from the old-fashioned chandelier reminding her of Friday night and the way Alex had talked to her, challenged her, forced her outside her defenses.
She turned the light off again and went back into the living room.
It was too much. Being with Alex had opened up wells of feeling within her, and she didn’t want to know what was at the bottom. She tried to imagine what she would feel if—no, make that when—Alex left her.
Not because he was a bad guy. Not because he didn’t care about her. But because it wasn’t his nature to tie himself to one woman, and because experience had taught her that it was in few men’s natures to be tied down to a single mother.
And let’s say he gave it the old college try. Let’s say everything seemed to be going along just fine. Experience had taught her something about that, too—when you let yourself be comfortable, let yourself relax, then something would happen to knock you flat.
But none of those fears even came close to the fear of Will getting hurt. He’d already been abandoned by his father… He didn’t need to lose a father figure, too. Not one he liked as much as Alex.
Holly picked up a wooden statue from the top of a bookcase, a carved giraffe that a former player had given Alex. Her fingers caressed it before she set it back down. And then she realized what she’d been doing for the last hour, going from room to room of Alex’s house, touching the things she associated with him.
She was saying goodbye.
The next morning, after Will and Alex had both left for the day, Holly called in to work and took a personal day. Then she went out to her favorite coffee shop and bought a morning paper.
There were a few likely ads in the real-estate section, both apartments and houses for rent, but the problem was Holly didn’t feel like taking the time to look around and make a careful decision, or waiting for the first of the month to move in.
She glanced at the clock on the wall. Eleven o’clock in the morning. Eight o’clock in Vegas, which was way too early to call a woman on her honeymoon. Holly did some window-shopping in town and had a light lunch, and forced herself to wait until one—ten in the morning Vegas time—before she called Gina’s cell phone.
Her voice, when it came, sounded sleepy but very happy. “Good morning, good morning whoever you are, you’ve reached Mrs. Henry Walthrop!”
In spite of her own worries Holly smiled. “So I take it you didn’t run away.”
Gina gave a contented sigh. “Nope. And it’s a good thing. Married life suits me. Of course being waited on hand and foot in a honeymoon suite may be affecting my judgment.” There was a pause and the sound of a wet kiss. “No, on second thought, I think it’s all Henry.”