Our clothes come off piece by piece. I trace the planes of his stomach with my fingers, reacquaint my bare skin with his. We might as well be back on the other side of the world again.
He draws his face back from mine and gazes down at me. His eyes are cloudy with desire, but it’s the tenderness I see there that makes my insides flip-flop. I reach up and run my finger across his jaw, his cheek, his lips. He lets me explore, closing his eyes and leaning into my touch.
Only when I let my hand drop and he opens his eyes again do I remember the danger. It’s clear in the way he looks at me. In his every caress. He still loves me, as much as he did before. Maybe more, if he let himself come see me after what I pulled in Thailand.
What the heck am I doing?
Didn’t I learn my lesson back in Chiang Mai? How did I let things get this far? How did I end up naked beneath him when I swore to myself that I wouldn’t fall back into my old horrible habits? When I promised myself that I wouldn’t hurt him again?
“We can’t do this,” I say, so quietly that I hardly hear the words myself.
He freezes.
“We can’t do this.” This time my voice is stronger. I wriggle out from beneath him. This was a mistake. Oh, God, what was I doing?
I leap up out of the bed and scramble around for my clothes. My hands shake as I reach down and grab my panties and bra. Only when the important parts are covered do I dare turn around and look at him again.
The look on his face breaks my heart.
“So that’s it, is it?” His voice is strained.
I grab my shirt off the ground. “This is… This isn’t right, Ian. You know it isn’t.”
“No.” This time he doesn’t bother hiding his anger. “Fighting this isn’t right. Letting a guy think you… that you want to…” He growls and rubs his face. “What do you want from me, Lou? What the hell do you want from me?”
I shake my head. I don’t know.
“Was this all just some sick joke, letting me come here?” he says. “Telling me you missed me and all that crap?”
“Of course not,” I say. “I wasn’t lying. I did miss you. I just… My feelings haven’t changed. I didn’t want you to think…” I can’t say it out loud. I didn’t want you to think that I love you. I don’t. I don’t have the ability to love anyone right now. Not when I’m so screwed up inside.
He’s still angry, but now there’s pain in his expression, too. I watch the emotions war across his face. Finally he shakes his head.
“I don’t believe it. You can tell me that this doesn’t mean anything to you, that you don’t feel anything for me, but I know the truth.” He looks up at me again. “You’re afraid to admit that you need someone. That you can’t handle this on your own. Tell me, Lou, is it any better on your own? Look around you! You’re lying about who you are, torturing yourself by pretending you never left home. Is that really better?”
I can’t take this.
“I need to go,” I say. I grab my jeans from the floor and slide into them. I don’t look at him, but I hear him moving behind me, probably grabbing his own clothes.
After a moment, I hear him sigh.
“I wish I’d never said those things to you back in Chiang Mai.” All frustration is gone from his voice, and in its place I hear regret.
I risk a glance back at him. He’s back in his boxers, and I can see him struggling, trying to be understanding. I remember his words all too well: You don’t think of anyone but yourself, Lou. You’ve forgotten why you came out here in the first place. You’ve forgotten that other people can feel pain, too.
I know that now. I try to remember it every day.
But Ian’s not done.
“I hurt you when I should have supported you,” he says. “I made you think you were a terrible person when you were just looking for support.”
I look down at my feet. “Maybe I am a terrible person.” I’m the girl who just jumped into bed with her ex and then changed her mind at the last second. The girl who cares more about her own needs than those of the people who care about her.
Ian’s shaking his head. “Maybe you’re a normal person who just doesn’t want to be alone.”
I give a sad smirk and grab one of my shoes from under the bed. “There’s a word for that. It’s called needy.”
“There’s no shame in needing love. You lost the support systems you had in your childhood. You’re on your own for the first time in your entire life. There’s nothing wrong with looking for emotional support.”
But there’s plenty wrong with taking advantage of the only person who’s willing to give it to you. He’s the one who taught me that in the first place.
I pull on my second shoe. “I need some time to think.”
A fresh wave of anger flashes in his eyes. “You’ve had two months to think!”
And where has that gotten me? I’m just as confused as I ever was.
“Dammit, Lou,” he goes on. “If you didn’t want me to come here, then you should have said so. If you didn’t want to have sex, then maybe you shouldn’t have waited until I was on top of you to fucking say something.”
He’s right, of course. But I can’t take it back now.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, grabbing my purse.
He must realize that I really mean to leave, because he attempts to rein in his anger.
“Is this how things are going to be between us from now on?” he asks, his voice strangely calm. “After everything we’ve been through?”
“I don’t know.” I’m at the door. “Please, Ian. Please just let me think.”
For a moment I think he’s going to blow up again, but he doesn’t say anything when I open the door. He doesn’t call after me as I walk back down the stairs and unlock my car.
Only when I’m safely in the driver’s seat do I glance back up at the room. He’s standing in the doorway, watching me, but he still doesn’t say a word, not even when I turn the key.
And when I glance in the rearview mirror as I pull away, he’s still standing there, and I know the pain on his face will haunt me for a long time.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I’m a bitch.
I never should have let Ian come here. I never should have gone into his motel room. I never should have kissed him or undressed him or let him think even for a minute that I could return the feelings he has for me. But once again, I allowed myself to get caught up in my own emotions. My own needs.