Coming Home(86)

She felt his body tense, and then he pulled away from her abruptly, taking two quick steps backward before he sat on the edge of his bed and ran both hands down his face. “I can’t, Leah.”

“Please,” she said, her chest heaving with her labored breath. She realized she should have been embarrassed at her behavior, at the fact that she was begging, but she was too wild with desire to care. She wanted him. She wanted to touch every inch of him. She wanted to hear his sighs and his moans and her name on his lips. She wanted to make him feel that good.

He dropped his hands from his face, gripping the edge of the bed on either side of him, but he wouldn’t look at her. She took the tiniest step toward him, and a muscle in the side of his jaw flexed before he said, “I think you should go.”

She froze, unsure if she had heard him correctly. Several seconds passed, but he still wouldn’t look at her. He sat there with his eyes trained on the floor and that muscle in the side of his jaw flexing over and over.

“You want me to leave?” she asked, her breath still unsteady, and he closed his eyes.

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

Leah continued to stare at him, and as the intensity of the moment dissipated and her desire slowly ebbed, she realized how exposed she was—physically and emotionally. She crossed her arms over her uncovered breasts, turning to scan the floor for her shirt, and as soon as she found it, she bent and scooped it up, holding it over her chest as she walked swiftly from the room.

Once outside, she pulled her shirt over her head as she passed through the dining room, grabbing her purse from the floor and her cell phone from the table. Just as she walked out the front door, she heard a sharp bang that sounded like Danny had hit something.

Leah bypassed the elevator and went directly to the stairwell, refusing to chance the possibility that he would come out while she was still waiting for it to arrive.

Her body was responding to what he had asked, carrying her down the steps, bringing her out to her car, starting it up and putting it in drive; she was going through the physical motions of leaving, but her mind felt like it was on a time delay. It was such an abrupt and jarring shift to go from swimming in desire that potent to drowning in rejection, and her thoughts were still scrambling to catch up. And she knew that when it happened, when she finally began to process what had just transpired between them, she would want to be as far away from this place as possible.

Leah cranked the radio, trying to put some noise in her head. She just wanted a little more time before she was forced to think. With the unnecessarily loud music eradicating any possibility of it, she focused only on the curve of the road, the white and yellow lines rushing toward her windshield, the taillights of other cars, and she sank into the comforting numbness of it all.

When she pulled into her parking space and cut the engine, somehow the sudden silence seemed even louder than the music it had replaced, and she sat there staring out of the windshield, trying for a few more minutes to keep her thoughts at bay.

The double beep of her phone snapped her out of her daze, and she reached into her purse apathetically, pulling it out and glancing at the screen.

One new message from Danny.

I’m so sorry Leah. That wasn’t about u, it was about me.

A breathy laugh fell from her lips as she tossed the phone back into her purse. He’d had almost an hour, and the best he could come up with was the “it’s not you, it’s me” routine?

She shook her head as she exited the car, and a rush of cold air hit her in the face, pulling her from her fog and forcing her to feel. And then it all hit her at once.