A Cosmic Kind of Love(93)

Now I wasn’t even paying attention to it.

It had been over a week since we’d returned from the Hamptons, and despite telling each other we loved each other, I felt like Chris had been a million miles away since last Monday. He’d seemed fine in the Hamptons. That first night we’d snuggled in bed, and we’d talked for hours about our plans for the future before drifting to sleep.

Then the next morning he could barely keep his hands off me, and everything was great when I left for work.

But he’d been strange at my apartment that night. Preoccupied.

And the next morning, I’d woken up alone. That wasn’t surprising, because sometimes Chris did wake up early for his morning run. What was weird was that he texted me to say he’d gone straight to his apartment and would see me that night.

I tried not to overanalyze it. But he’d been distant ever since.

It was like he was here, but he wasn’t.

And he hadn’t touched me beyond a peck on the cheek or lips.

Yes, I’d had my period for much of the week, and then I was swamped at the weekend with a wedding rehearsal and wedding and subsequently a little too tired for sex. But Chris didn’t even attempt to seduce me, and since I’d gotten home from work tonight, I’d dropped a million hints that I wanted him to. Hints my usually intelligent spaceman wasn’t picking up on at all. I’d squeezed past him in the kitchen, brushing my breasts against his back, when there was two feet of space for me to walk in.

Nothing.

I’d deliberately dropped a spoon (and then my phone) so I could bend over in my tight dress because that had worked without me even trying in the past.

Nothing!

To say I was beyond confused at this point was an understatement. How could he go from telling me he loved me to being this distant almost immediately afterward?

Was he second-guessing his own feelings? Or was something else at play?

The mystery of it all was driving me nuts. If something didn’t change soon, I was calling him on it.

Watching Chris, I could see he wasn’t paying attention to the movie at all because his gaze was unfocused, like his thoughts were somewhere outside of this apartment. A few days ago, I tried to ask him about his quietness, but he told me he was just preoccupied now that he’d signed with Scott Rose. They were polishing his book proposal together, and that filled up most of his days right now. Somehow, though, despite the sensitivity of the subject of his father and their Latino heritage in the book, I didn’t believe him when he said that was the cause of his preoccupation. He couldn’t meet my eyes when he said it, which was out of character for Chris. I felt awful because I’d promised him I trusted him.

“I’m going to bed,” I announced. Hint, hint.

Chris flicked me a distracted smile. “I’m going to finish watching this.”

We were there already? A mere summer of loving, and that was it?

“I’m not really that tired tonight,” I tried to be more obvious.

“Then stay and watch the rest of the film.”

I glowered at him and pushed up off the couch. “Maybe I’ll just read before bed.” I lowered my voice to a mutter, “Maybe erotica, since no one else is getting me off tonight.”

“Huh? What?”

I waved him off, walking away. “Night. Don’t worry about me.”

“Okay, night.”

Usually I slept in one of Chris’s tees, but I snagged a nightie out of my drawer instead. I chose a silk-and-lace one that left little to the imagination. I put my hands on my hips and stared dazedly at my wall as hurt echoed in pang after pang in my chest.

Was I being unreasonable to expect our sex life to still be exciting this early into our relationship? I didn’t think so.

Was I being unreasonable to assume my boyfriend and I should be closer than ever after declaring our love instead of feeling like he was in space and I was on Earth?

“What are you doing?”

Startled, I jumped at the sound of Chris’s voice at my back. Pivoting, I caught Chris’s expression change from bemusement to appreciation as his gaze lowered down my body in my sexy nightie.

Oh, hello, there he is.

“Is that new?”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I huffed. “So this is what it takes to not be invisible to my boyfriend.”

His gaze returned to mine. “What’s going on?”

I stared at him, feeling an overwhelming amount of frustration and desire. “What’s been going on with you, Chris? You’ve been distant with me ever since we said I love you. Did we move too fast?”

His face slackened with surprise, and he strode toward me to pull me into his arms. I couldn’t quite relax into him as my palms rested on his hard chest. “No,” he said, searching my gaze. “Hallie, no. I meant it when I said I love you. I’m just . . . I am preoccupied with the book and worrying about my future, but I’m sorry if that’s come off as me being distant. I don’t want to make you feel that way.”

His hands smoothed over my back, and I shivered at his touch. I missed him.

“Forgive me?”

Relief filled me, and I curled my arms around his shoulders. “Of course. But you can talk to me about anything. If you need to talk through your worries about the future, about your plans, I want to be here for you.”