Tease Me (One Night with Sole Regret #7)(38)
Author: Olivia Cunning

“You can be such an ass,” she said indignantly and rolled out of bed.

“What are you doing?”

“Going back to Dallas.”

“You’re leaving.” It wasn’t a question; she was leaving. Without fighting for him. Just like his mother had done. But Madison wouldn’t do that to him, would she? They just had to work together to build a stronger relationship—slowly if that’s what she needed—but they could not take a step back. There was nothing but loneliness and bitterness behind him. Adam couldn’t go back. He could only move forward. Fuck, she’d been the one who’d taught him that.

Adam sat up in the center of the bed, the bed sheets crumpled in his lap and tangled around his legs. He watched Madison dress. Watched her shove her belongings into her suitcase. Watched her rip his heart out. What little he had left.

When she was all packed, she turned and stood near the edge of the bed, refusing to meet his eyes.

“You gave me something I thought I’d never have and now you’re going to take that away from me?” he said, surprised by how raw his voice sounded.

“I don’t want to leave, Adam. Say the word, and I’m back in your bed.”

In his bed. He didn’t want her in his goddamned bed. He wanted her in his life, every fucking facet of it. He glowered at her.

“Honestly, Adam, I don’t understand why you’re so mad. We can still be lovers. I just want to slow down.”

She didn’t want to slow down. She wanted someone to fuck her, not someone to love her.

“I just need one person in my corner, Madison. One person who believes me without fail. One person who believes in me. I thought that person was you.”

“I am that person, Adam,” she insisted.

He would have believed her yesterday, but now he wasn’t so sure. She stared at him as if she had a thousand things to say, but either couldn’t find the words or didn’t want to.

“What do you want from me?” he asked. He probably didn’t want the answer, but he’d rather know what he was dealing with and try to cope instead of being pulled in a dozen different directions. “Just tell me.”

“I wish I knew,” she said, shaking her head. “I thought I knew, but now I’m not sure. I need to figure this all out before I say something I’ll later regret.”

“Are you sure about anything?” he asked.

“I’m sure I’m happiest when I’m with you. We always have fun.”

She trailed her fingertips over his bare shoulder, and he realized that if he let her go, that touch would become a memory rather than being part of his reality.

“I’m sure you know how to please my body like no one else,” she said.

He waited for the words he longed to hear, but she didn’t say them. She wasn’t sure she loved him, that had to be what had her acting so emotionally closed off from him all of a sudden. Or maybe she was sure that she didn’t love him and simply wasn’t done using him for her amusement just yet.

“I see how this is,” he said, brushing her hand aside. “Instead of making a clean break, which would be better for both of us, you want to keep me hanging until you decide you’ve had enough of me. Why put off the inevitable?”

She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, a strangled breath escaping her parted lips. He’d reduced her to tears, and he frankly didn’t care.

“But I’ll never have enough, Adam. Don’t you know that I’m addicted to you?”

Addictions were never healthy. He was proof positive of that fact.

“And we both know the best way to break an addiction,” he said.

She nodded, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “Quit cold turkey.”

Was she really leaving? Was he really telling her to go? What the fuck was wrong with him?

He wasn’t going to let her use him as she liked just so she could leave him later. That was what the fuck was wrong with him.

“You’re right,” she said after he’d glowered at her for a long, tense moment. “It’s best if I go now.”

She wasn’t going to fight for him? Not even a little? She’d given up on him that easily. Not that it surprised him—everyone in his life eventually gave up on him—but still it hurt. No, it fucking ached.

“Yeah,” he said.

He wanted to take her into his arms and kiss some sense into her. Wanted to force her to see reason and to love her unconditionally—the way he so desperately needed her to love him. Part of him wanted to back down and let her have what she wanted just so he could be with her in any capacity.

But he let her leave. He had to. Because the other part of him couldn’t back down. He needed to know that she would fight for him, would choose him. That she would push back against him and against all her doubts and simply say that she’d love him no matter what.

He was trying to be a better man and do the right thing, trying to be strong and stand up for what he believed in, trying to be rational and not driven by emotion or his libido.

God, acting like an adult fucking sucked.

“I’ll call you when I get it sorted out,” she said from the open door. “Please don’t give up on us just yet.”

Me? he thought. You’re the one who gave up.

But he said, “I’ll look forward to your call.”

And he knew he would, because nothing had changed about the way he felt about her. If anything, he loved her more for having the strength to walk away. Which made absolutely no fucking sense to him.

The door closed behind her with a punishing click. Adam flopped back on the mattress and buried his face under a pillow.

Go after her. Go after her, his reckless side demanded. Make her stay. If you have to steal her away and bind her to the fucking bed, make her stay.

Give her space, his rational side argued. Trust that she knows what she needs. She’ll end up hating you if you act like a stalker. If she really loves you, she’ll be back.

So he compromised. He’d give her a week to figure out her psychological bullshit and call him. If he didn’t hear from her by then, he’d go after her and convince her by whatever means necessary that they belonged together.

A week? his reckless side protested.

“Three days,” he said aloud and tossed the pillow aside so he could stare at the ceiling and figure out the words he’d need to say to win her over.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d stared at the ceiling or how many times he went over in his head where he’d gone wrong. He probably would have continued in the same vein all night if his cellphone hadn’t rung.