It was strange watching Kitty wake up. Her body switched on a little at a time; eyes opening, arms stretching, legs unfurling and flexing. So different from the way Adam transitioned, his whole body flipping to alert as soon as sleep disappeared. Some of it came from his experiences abroad – sleeping in strange places, often having to avoid people who really didn’t want him making a documentary about them. But he’d always woken quickly, even as a child. Kitty’s cat-like stretches were an enticing difference.
‘Can I ask you something?’ she asked.
He blinked, staring at her. ‘Sure.’
‘What happened when you came back to LA this summer?’
His shields immediately went up. ‘What do you mean?’
Something in his tone must have alerted her to his discomfort. ‘I was just being nosy. Ignore me.’
He didn’t like the way she shrank back from his harshness. It was enough to make his stomach curl. ‘I’m sorry, I sounded wary. I just… it wasn’t a good time for me.’
She said nothing. Maybe she was afraid to put him on the defensive again. Either way Adam knew it was up to him to clear the way. To try and regain the gentle ease they’d had only moments before.
‘It’s old news,’ he told her. ‘I fell out with Everett over something, and we came to blows. The next thing I knew the blue lights arrived and I was being arrested for assault and battery.’
‘Didn’t Everett get arrested, too?’
Adam licked his lips They were dry as a bone. ‘He’s not quite as good at fighting as me. He definitely came off worse.’
‘What was the fight about?’ she asked him, her palm flat on his chest, over where his heart was beating. She looked up at him through those pretty blue eyes, her expression soft.
Adam thought back to that day, when he’d discovered everything Everett had done. The deceit, the backstabbing, the payments he’d made. It was as though a veil of red mist had descended, colouring everything he looked at. He hadn’t even planned to hit him the first time, but before he knew it, Everett was on the floor.
Christ, what a tangled web they’d both weaved.
‘He double-crossed me on something.’
She moved her hand in a circle on his skin, her fingers sliding tantalisingly close to his nipples. Weird how he could feel so on edge and so turned on at the same time. Only she could make him feel this way.
More alive than he’d ever felt, and completely afraid he’d never feel this way again.
‘We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.’
‘It’s not that I don’t want to,’ he told her. ‘It’s more that I’m trying to forget it. At least for the next few days. I promised my folks I’d come to Christmas lunch and let bygones be bygones. If I keep talking about this shit I’ll get all riled up again, and I don’t want that.’
‘Are you scared you’d hit him again?’
Adam shook his head. ‘I’m getting better at controlling my anger. That’s what my therapy’s been about.’ Or at least it was, until it had been hijacked by his feelings for Kitty. ‘It’s more that I want to be as genuine as possible. My folks have had a bad year, and part of it’s my fault. They deserve to have their family around them at Christmas, and I want to give it to them.’
‘And after Christmas?’ Kitty asked. ‘What will you do then? Will it be like that one-day armistice in the First World War when the soldiers all played football together, and then resumed fighting the next day?’
‘Honestly?’ Adam said. ‘I have no idea. I guess things will go back to the way they were. Everett will go back to LA, and I’ll stay here and finish up my therapy.’
‘And I’ll go back too…’
‘But you’re here now.’ Adam’s voice was thick. ‘And that’s what counts, right?’ He placed his hand over hers, moving her palm until it was brushing against his nipple. The sensation made him harder than hell. She could do that to him, arouse him at the simplest touch, until his body ached and needed her more than it needed air.
How the hell was he going to survive without her?
The morning light was streaming through the cabin shutters, making lines of white on the planked bedroom floor. Kitty stared at them, watching as they slowly moved towards the bed, playing a game of What’s the Time, Mr Wolf with them. It was almost seven, time to get up, to feed the puppy, to hurry back to the house before her absence was noted.
It was hard to shake off the feeling of anxiety that had lain on her ever since she’d seen that script in the library. Of knowing something Adam didn’t, of trying to find a way to tell him that didn’t make things worse. Of opening a Pandora’s box that threatened to engulf them all.
When she’d asked him about LA, she’d hoped somehow the conversation would lead to Everett, and she’d naturally be able to slip in questions about the script. But Adam had stonewalled her, using his body to make her forget anything that lingered in her mind, until all she could think about was him and what he did to her.
But what was her excuse now? Truthfully, she was afraid. No, it was worse than that, she was as frightened as hell that this little titbit of half-truth she was hiding from him could be the one piece of information to bring the whole house tumbling down.