I know that’s unfair, even as I say it. But I’m still pissed at him too. I’m still hurt from the fact that he shut me out today. I don’t wait for his answer. Turning, I head into the bedroom to drop my purse on the dresser and take off my shoes.
Nick follows me in. “What’s going on? You’re upset with me, obviously. This is how you deal—by ignoring my calls and texts? I’ve been trying to reach you for hours, Avery. Then I come home and you’re not here. For fuck’s sake, I thought something happened to you.” He blows out a sharp breath. “I thought you left.”
I look at him. There’s no question he’s pissed, but I’m only now seeing the concern on his face. His lips are flat, his jaw rigid. And behind the flashing anger in his eyes is real fear.
Fear for me.
Because he came home and found me gone.
Because he thought I had left him?
“I’m sorry.” I shake my head, feeling shitty for making him worry. And I must be all kinds of awful, because that small admission that he might need me as much as I need him makes my heart begin to pound heavily in my breast. “I didn’t know you were looking for me. I . . . lost my phone today.” The lie feels sour on my tongue. “I guess I must’ve dropped it on the subway or something.”
“You’ve been walking around the city without any way to reach me all this time?” He scowls, his face darkening. “That’s one more reason I ought to bend you over my knee.”
My breath catches and I feel my cheeks flame at that remark. “I’m not a child, Nick.”
“No, you’re not.” He steps toward me. “And that’s not what I meant.”
God help me, that grim but unmistakably carnal curve of his mouth as he speaks should trigger a hundred different reactions in me. And it does, but next to shock the strongest of them is excitement. I glance away from him, unnerved by how easily this man can entice me.
His fingers are briefly under my chin, lifting my gaze back to his. “Fuck the phone. It can be replaced. As for a studio, if you want space to paint, all you had to do was say so. There’s plenty of room for you to work here.”
“Nick, you don’t—”
“Yes, Avery, I do. If you have needs—any needs at all—I will take care of them. I have the means. I think we both know I’m capable.”
I lick my lips, feeling the heat of that promise wrap around my senses. Somehow I manage to break free from the spell he’s casting over me and shake my head. “I already put money down on the sublet. It’s a shared studio with a few other artists. I need to be able to paint. Not here, but someplace of my own.” I force myself to hold his penetrating stare. “I need some boundaries between you and me and reality.”
“Reality.” His face remains impassive, but there is a flicker of surprise in his eyes. Displeasure in the way his hand slowly drops away from me. “This is because of what happened at lunch today?”
“Seeing someone you used to fuck didn’t bother me as much as what happened afterward.” It’s the truth, even though I burn with suspicion over what Kathryn once meant to him. “You shut me out today. You made me feel unimportant to you.”
As shaken as I still am over my conversation with Rodney Coyle, it’s this current confrontation that has me trembling. I don’t want to lose Nick. I don’t want to lose what we have, elusive as it may be. Today I felt our connection slip, and it terrified me. I’m still afraid to keep my heart open to him when I have nothing solid to hold on to.
When I start to withdraw from him, Nick traces the backs of his knuckles against my cheek, halting my retreat. His other hand slides around to my back, bringing me closer than I was before.
“I told you once that I don’t do relationships. Christ, I wouldn’t know how if I tried. I’m too selfish, Avery. I fuck things up. I hurt people. I guess today is a good example of that.”
He sounds remorseful, his words careful as he strokes the side of my face.
“You are important to me. This is reality.” As he speaks, he takes my hand, pressing it to his chest. His heart pounds hard and heavy against my palm. We’re standing so close now, I can also feel the heat and power of his body. His gaze is locked on mine, giving me no room to run. Nowhere to hide. “You feel pretty damn real to me.”
The temptation to give in to him right then and there overwhelming, but I need more.
Today of all days, with doubt clawing at me and my past resurrected and threatening to destroy me, I need something more from Nick than just this need for each other that neither of us can resist.
“Tell me about her. Tell me what she means to you.”
“Kathryn Tremont means nothing to me. I’ve already told you that.”
“But you haven’t told me what happened between you two.”
The few details he has shared—and only because I pressed him once before—have painted only the briefest sketch. I know she and Nick were lovers. According to him it was only for a short time soon after he first arrived in New York. I know there had been a time when his sexual needs ran considerably darker than they do now, but he’s insisted that Kathryn was never part of that with him.
Since he has no reason to lie to me, I don’t doubt any of the things he has divulged about his past. It’s the things he hasn’t shared that frighten me the most. After all, I am a master at that game too.
“Kathryn and I are ancient history, Avery. Not important—neither is she.”