Avoiding Intimacy (Avoiding #2.5)(61)

It was very over. “But, now I can’t model.

All because I left.”

Adam sighed, standing and coming around the island to wrap his arms around her. She turned to face him, burying her face into his shoulder. He stroked her hair back as she nuzzled into him, and he gave her the moment she needed to just feel.

“Now,” he said, keeping his arms around her but pulling back so that he could see her face, “you are not a failure.

Even if you were, it would be okay because you’re resilient. You bounce back. You are a beautiful, confident, accomplished young woman, and this one pitfall—because that’s all it is—will not break you. I promise.”

A smile slowly returned to her face.

“You think I’m beautiful?”

“Was that ever a concern?” he asked, poking her in the sides playfully.

“Maybe.”

He gave her the look, and she giggled.

“Fine. No.”

“Are you feeling any better?” he asked.

“Yes,” she admitted. She was actually feeling much better with him around. He alleviated so much of the weight that had been on her shoulders. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad you want me to be here… especially after the way I ended things,”

he said sheepishly.

“I thought you said it was…mutual,”

she said. She hated that word.

“You and I both know it wasn’t,” he admitted, dropping his arms from around her He walked out toward the living room.

She followed him, surprised at how easily he had admitted that. She had been beating herself up about the break-up since it had happened. She had felt backed into a corner, having agreed with him accidentally. Yet, she couldn’t have imagined being in Milan with Marco while dating Adam. Things would have been very different, and maybe she needed her time away to see how she felt about him.

The silence lingered between them.

Chyna stood back and observed him before the photographs she had put up.

Her heart ached as she watched him. Why had it taken her so long to see what was standing directly in front of her all this time?

“New additions,”

Adam mused, staring at the collection on her wall. “I’m guessing you got these in Italy.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I did.” She was prepared to tell him about them if he asked. She was ready to move on.

“They seem to fit the wall,” he said, staring at them with his head cocked to the side. “The lines in Italian architecture are just stunning.”

She chuckled softly. Of course, he would always bring it back to architecture. It was his job and his life.

When he looked at the pictures, he saw only well-constructed buildings, a beauty that few others could really appreciate.

Where he saw the beauty of a well-crafted building, she saw only memories— memories of a past that she had left behind after boarding the plane to New York.

Such a sharp, determined decision had changed everything.

“Hey, you,” he said, turning to face her. “Come here.”

She walked up to him, not hesitating for a second. “Yes?”

“I really am glad you’re back,” he said, his arms circling her waist as he pulled her into a hug.

“Me, too,” she whispered against his chest.

She loved the feel of his arms around her. It felt like home. It felt like the only home she had ever known…the only one she had ever chosen. It was comfortable and relaxing, and she could have laid her head against his shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent, all day.

Just when she was getting comfortable, he pulled back and stared down into her face, memorizing every inch of it like a blueprint. “So, why those two pictures?”

he asked softly, bringing her out of her reverie.

She knew she had to answer him, and she figured she had a response. Taking a deep breath, she answered him, “Because they are the memories I want to remember from my time in Italy.”

He nodded, not needing to ask anything further. She figured he could guess that they had something to do with Marco. He would forever be intrinsically linked with Milan to her. The memories were not something Adam would ever want to know about, and she was glad that he didn’t push it.

“You know,” he began, staring back up at the picture like he was trying to find the answers hidden within the still frames. “I found out how you got those tickets.”

“What?” she asked, surprised by the change in direction. He must be talking about the tickets to Marco’s grand opening. She had never discovered their origin. “How did you find out? They were dropped off at my front door.”

“I know. I didn’t really believe you at the time, but I found out that you were right,” he said, looking a bit sheepish.

“Of course, I was right. I wouldn’t lie to you about something like that,” she told him. Oh, those tickets were the key to her ending up in Italy!

“Sorry. It didn’t seem very plausible at the time,” he admitted.

“Well, who sent them, and how did you find out?” she demanded, curiosity getting the better of her.

“John,” he said, glancing into her green eyes for the shock that immediately registered there.

Her stomach felt a bit queasy. She couldn’t believe what he had just said.