Time (Laws of Physics #3)(57)

I stepped back to him, holding his hand tighter, fear constricting my throat. “Please. Please stay with me.”

“I will. I promise. But I can’t take a bath with you without wanting to make love to you again. And, I’m sorry, but you scared the shit out of me in the limo. Once you tell me what happened, then we’ll—”

“I was fifteen,” I blurted, suddenly tired—so tired—of this between us. My brain switched to autopilot. “He was my chem lab TA. He found me alone one night in the lab and grabbed me from behind. He made me think he was going to rape me, though he never said the words. He let me go and said it was a joke. When I tried to leave, he grabbed me again, pinned me against the wall until I started to cry.”

“Oh my God.” The words tumbled out of him as he rocked backward on his feet, his large, shocked eyes darting between mine.

“But he didn’t. He didn’t rape me. He didn’t hurt me. I had no bruises. He laughed at me, again. Said I was gullible, that I was just a little kid, that I reminded him of his little sister. He let me go. And that’s it.”

Abram swallowed convulsively, and I watched as the surprised confusion behind his eyes was eventually eclipsed by outrage and anger.

It was strange, telling him this now, how distant and removed I felt. When I’d told Gabby, I’d been shaky, sweaty, my heart had raced.

But not now. Now, it just felt like a fact. An ugly tale that happened to someone else but wouldn’t stop following me around, making itself relevant to my life, insidiously inserting itself into my decisions. I wished it never happened, for so many reasons. Mostly though, I was frustrated with myself and how much power I’d given an event that didn’t matter.

And I’d allowed it to ruin our first time together.

“Did you report him? Did you tell anyone?”

Shaking my head, exhausted, and abruptly feeling every speck of dirt and grime on my body, I crossed to the bathtub, turned on the faucet marked hot, and engaged the stopper.

“Come take a bath with me,” I said, allowing fatigue to bleed into my words. “Please.”

Considering me with a thoughtful and distracted frown, Abram acquiesced. I allowed myself to feel mildly relieved. I’d been afraid that telling Abram what happened would make him not want me anymore, as irrational as that sounded.

Except, the truth was, I was still afraid. I was still terrified that everything between us was going to change. He’d look at me differently, treat me like I was fragile, or crazy. Or he’d think I was overreacting, blowing the whole thing out of proportion. He’d tell me to get over it, like I’d told myself a thousand times.

Visibly distracted, Abram’s fingers came to the buttons of the borrowed shirt. It was too small for his shoulders and too big for his waist. Meanwhile, numb, I shrugged off the coat, pulled off my dress, and climbed in the tub, adjusting the cold and hot water until the right temperature was reached.

I caught movement in my peripheral vision and turned my head to watch him push his pants down his hips, sparks of heat dancing in my lower stomach. My body came alive at the sight of his body.

Shame was quick to swoop in, reminding me that I’d just told him about what Leo had called a trauma. And now here I was, lusting after someone.

But he’s not someone. He’s Abram.

It didn’t matter. Something was wrong with me. I shouldn’t have lustful feelings so soon after speaking about the event, I shouldn’t want to be held down while he took pleasure from my body, moving inside me. I shouldn’t crave being dominated during sex. I shouldn’t love it, but I did.

I faced forward again, cupping my hand and lifting it, watching the water spill around the edges until equilibrium was reached, leaving just about a tablespoon in my palm. Ah, what a perfect allegory for life. No matter how much I tried to hold on, ultimately, it would eventually slip through my fingers.

I looked up just as Abram climbed into the huge tub, his boxers still on. His mouth a frown, his eyes wary, he took the spot across from me.

“You take a bath with your boxers on?” I tried to make my voice light.

Abram studied me for a long moment before saying gently, “Tonight I do.”

“You’re afraid I’ll attack you?” What are you doing, Mona? Trying to turn this into a joke?

Yes. Yes, I am. Maybe if I made it a joke then it would lose its power and I could move on.

His eyes narrowed, telling me he didn’t think my statement was funny. In fact, it seemed to anger and frustrate him.

I swallowed again, my throat tight, my heart fluttering pitifully, wishing he would . . . what? What did I want? Did I want him to treat it like it was nothing? As I had? Did I want him to try to kiss me and make it better? Did I want him to grab me and devour me as he’d done in the limo?

“Was I too rough?” he asked, pulling me from my unanswerable questions.

“Pardon?”

“In the limo, when we were together. Was I too rough with you? Did I scare you?”

I shook my head but stopped. He’d been a little rough, and I’d loved it. But thinking about things now, I found it difficult to separate my feelings at the time from the guilt at having felt them.

“I was too rough,” he said, sounding angry with himself. “I should’ve let you tell me what you like. I shouldn’t have insisted that we discover each other. I’m sorr—”