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Is that it? Is that what he wants me to believe? That this is all because of his need to ownme?

I hover in the doorway, fingernails biting into the ornate wood. “That doesn’t change my point about control.”

“No,” he echoes, firmer this time. “It doesn’t.”

Peaches is curledup on my lap, snuffling softly. I run my fingers through her downy fur, finding a moment of peace as I try to forget what happened barely an hour ago.

It’s impossible, and it only grows even more so when the phone tossed next to me on the bed buzzes.

Trying not to disturb the kitten, I pick it up and only just resist the urge to toss it as far away from as I can.

Adrian

Come back to the study.

Please.

I almost ignore the summons. If he hadn’t added ‘please’ to the end of it, I would’ve. But as Peaches purrs softly and my heart thumps wildly, I think about Adrian still upstairs, all alone, wanting to speak to me.

Something restless stirs beneath my skin. I was so discombobulated after I fled down the stairs, looking for as much of an escape as I could get knowing that Adrian will only come after me… trying not to let it sting that it took ten years for him to do just that… that I locked myself in.

Moments later, Peaches popped her head out from underneath the bed, completely unaware the shit she stirred by hiding as effectively as she had. I forgave her, though, because her tiny meow was just so stinking cute, and when I dropped down on the bed, she clambered up the comforter and curled up in my lap.

I hate to leave her now, but I stroke her head, then settle her next to me. She blinks sleepily at me, and I smile. Good kitty.

Bad pussy.

I should know better than to go back up there. We parted at odds, and I’m still not sure what I think about everything he told me. Even so, I pull myself up and out of my bed, powerless to ignore Adrian when he needs me.

When I let myself into the study, Adrian is standing in front of the fireplace. His jacket is gone, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, his toned forearms on display. His tie is missing, too, and the three top buttons on his shirt are undone.

His hair is a rumpled, tousled mess. Like he’s been up here, thinking, running his fingers through his curls. The flamesflicker off of his golden earrings, the way they gleam in the firelight drawing my attention to the shell of his empty ear.

I focus on that.

“Your cigarette is missing,” I point out. “What happened, Adrian? Your conscience get the better of you and you finally smoked it?”

“You want to kiss me and find out?”

This last month, he insisted on claiming his kiss in exchange for continuing to go cold turkey when it comes to his smoking. I liked kissing him, just like it made me feel a slight sense of accomplishment that all it took was me disapproving of his smoking for him to quit just like that. I used the excuse to get close to him, telling myself I had no choice, that it was something Ihadto do…

“Not right now.”

His disappointment is palpable, though he doesn’t do anything other than shrug.

Damn it. The casual motion has my eyes dipping to the tanned skin peeking through his dress shirt.

I gesture at him. “You look like you’ve just rolled out of bed.”

Another half-hearted comment: “You like it?”

I do, but I’m not about to admit that at this moment. Instead, I can’t help but once again remember what happened between us the first time we came up to his study together. Add that to the come-hither look in his eyes and the way he’s already half-dressed…

I ball my hands into fists. “If you had me come up here because you want sex like the night of the party, screw you. Or not. Becauseno. Just no. No kisses. No fucking. In case you can’t tell, I’m still spiraling from everything I learned before.”

“So am I.”

“Those were your secrets, Adrian.”