There with You (Adair Family 2)

And yet, here I was, alone in my crappy hotel room because I’d stupidly slept with Austin Vale on New Year’s Eve.

Our friends had gone to a party tonight. I’d tagged along, thinking surely Austin had gotten my not-so-subtle hints that our drunken night together was a mistake. What had been annoyingly clingy behavior since had degenerated into obsessive. I finally blew up at him tonight when he got in my face for flirting with another tourist. I hated that he pushed me, and I was mean to him. Or that Desi’s boyfriend, Liam, had to tell Austin to back off and then walk me back to the hotel because my night was ruined. At least Austin knew the score now. I just hoped he’d give me a wide berth or I might have to ditch my backpacking companions.

They were a fun group, but I realized I wouldn’t really miss any of them if I left.

Maybe that was a sign I should leave.

That I should finally pull my shit together and face my big sister.

She hates you.

Tears burned my eyes. “I’d hate me too,” I muttered.

Robyn would never have needed a guy to walk her back to her hotel room. She’d never sit on a strange, crappy bed that thousands of other people had slept on, wallowing in self-pity.

“You’re sad without me.”

The familiar voice made me jump. My heart thumped in my throat as I launched up off the bed, spinning to face Austin. He closed the hotel room door behind him and turned the lock.

“How did you get in here?”

“You taught me how to pick a lock, remember?” He grinned, waving a couple of bobby pins.

Damn it. So I had. A few months ago, in Spain, Austin and I had worked together at this bar in Málaga. The boss was a creepy British guy, a total asshole. He kept a locked room on the premises, and it became a running joke among a few of us. We’d hazard guesses about what he kept in there, the guesses growing scarier as the weeks went on.

On our last night on the job, Austin and I had a couple of shots for kicks and I told him I could pick locks. I’d read about it as a teen and then practiced until I’d perfected it. I’d taught Robyn how to do it too. That night, I showed Austin, and we broke into the room to find it filled with stock we’d never seen. Expensive cases of whisky and gin, boxes of cigarettes, and cash. Lots of cash. Realizing there was probably something criminal going on, we got the hell out of there and hoped the boss didn’t have a security camera in the room.

The next day we were on a bus to Italy, anyway.

And Austin had learned a new skill.

Well done, Regan.

“I want you to leave.” My voice shook.

“Not until you tell me you feel the same way. Because I know you do.” There was a light in his eyes I’d never seen before. Utter faith. Utter belief.

In us.

Oh my God. He was delusional.

“Austin, we’re just friends. Sleeping together was a mistake. I don’t want to be in a relationship with you. I’m sorry if that hurts your feelings, but that’s just the way it is. Now please leave, or I’m going to call the police.”

“Good. Call them. Because if you don’t try to love me back, I’m going to kill myself.”

Aghast, I stared at him like I’d never seen him before. I felt like I hadn’t. We’d been in each other’s company for months, and I’d always thought he was just a good guy. Laid-back, great sense of humor, kind of a cute nerd. We had zero chemistry, so I’d only ever seen him as a friend, which was why I was so angry at myself for sleeping with him while drunk. I never would’ve imagined this would happen after sleeping with him, though. Never.

“You’re obviously drunk, right? ’Cause you’re talking crazy.”

“Don’t call me crazy.” He gave me a dark look. “It’s politically incorrect and incredibly insensitive.”

I narrowed my eyes. “So if I’m insensitive … what do you call a person who tries to emotionally manipulate someone into being in a relationship with them?”

“I’m not trying to manipulate you. I’m telling you how I’ll feel, knowing you’re denying the truth between us. I don’t know what you’re running from, Regan, but you don’t have to run from me.” He crossed the room, and I backed up, my hands raised defensively.

“Don’t touch me.” I warned. He kept coming. “Austin, don’t touch me!” But he reached for me, so I planted my hands on his chest and shoved. “Get away from me!”

“Why are you fighting this?” he asked calmly as we grappled.

Fear and panic set in. I tried to get away from him, but he gripped my wrists tightly in his fists. I kicked at him; he cursed and jerked out of the way, my foot just missing a direct hit to his balls, but he never once let go. He was freakishly strong.