I cringed. “Seriously?”
God knows where my panties had gone. Doubtless the completely wrong person would find them tomorrow and I’d be in for another round of humiliation. I pulled on the shorts then got busy collecting the shoes and socks. I could walk back to my room barefoot. It wasn’t like it’d matter.
Meanwhile, he just stood there bare-ass naked, arms crossed, watching me.
“What?” I asked, getting down on my hands and knees to try and find the fucking underwear. Shit. They’d disappeared. And he’d been totally right about the rough flooring. My back or hands and knees would have been shredded. Of course his being right and caring about me only made things worse. “Are you going to get dressed? And why are you giving me that look?”
“What look am I giving you exactly?”
“Blank face, but pissed-off eyes. It’s the one you use when you’re angry, but pretending as if you’re trying to hide it.”
“Well, Martha,” he said, pausing to pick up his shorts and pull them on, “I was giving you that particular look because we just had great sex, and before I can even catch my breath, you’re suddenly being a raging bitch. What I’m wondering is, why?”
“Why you’re bothering with me or why I’m being a bitch?” I asked, rising back to my feet. “Because I have a well-known reputation for being a bitch so I don’t see that stopping anytime soon. As for the other, there’s a very simple answer. We can just stop. We’ve had a few good fucks. Might as well end it while we’re ahead, right?”
He just blinked.
“What? What is it now?”
“Are you honestly that afraid of feeling something for me?”
I set my jaw, but it didn’t help. Neither did staring at the stupid floor.
“C’mon,” he said, voice softer. “Look at me.”
Surly as shit, I did so. God knows why.
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
My shoulders slumped. “I can’t find my panties.”
He exhaled and looked around, inspecting the room. Next he crossed over to a collection of dumbbells and hooked my black thong with his index finger. Trust him to find them immediately. I held out my hand to take them, but he drew me in close.
“What else is wrong?” he asked.
And the words were there, but actually speaking them…
Arms wrapped around me, holding me carefully. Like I was delicate and might break. Like I had cracks in me already. “You can tell me, love. It’s okay.”
My throat tightened, eyes hurting. “The last time I was doing stupid things like yelling people’s names out during sex and getting all overemotional, everything went wrong. I made it go wrong.”
“You
and Dave?”
I nodded, cheek pressed against his chest.
“That was a long time ago,” he said. “I think you’re a bit wiser now, don’t you?”
“No.”
He rubbed my back, kissing the top of my head. God, he was so good at this stuff and I was so not. My arms clung to him. “Martha, no matter whose fault it was, I know you got hurt last time. And I can tell you for a fact that I’m not going to hurt you. That is not going to happen. But only you can decide if I’m worth the risk.”
“I don’t want to hurt you either.” I hated the thought. He was such a good man. And this was all getting so complicated so quickly.
“Then don’t,” he said. “It’s that simple.”
I sniffled, taking a deep breath. “Honestly, Sam. It’s barely been twenty-four hours. How could things possibly get this difficult in such a short amount of time? It’s crazy.”