Avoiding Intimacy (Avoiding 2.5)

A smile slowly returned to her face.

“You think I’m beautiful?”

“Was that ever a concern?” he asked, poking her in the sides playfully.

“Maybe.”

He gave her the look, and she giggled.

“Fine. No.”

“Are you feeling any better?” he asked.

“Yes,” she admitted. She was actually feeling much better with him around. He alleviated so much of the weight that had been on her shoulders. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad you want me to be here… especially after the way I ended things,”

he said sheepishly.

“I thought you said it was…mutual,”

she said. She hated that word.

“You and I both know it wasn’t,” he admitted, dropping his arms from around her He walked out toward the living room.

She followed him, surprised at how easily he had admitted that. She had been beating herself up about the break-up since it had happened. She had felt backed into a corner, having agreed with him accidentally. Yet, she couldn’t have imagined being in Milan with Marco while dating Adam. Things would have been very different, and maybe she needed her time away to see how she felt about him.

The silence lingered between them.

Chyna stood back and observed him before the photographs she had put up.

Her heart ached as she watched him. Why had it taken her so long to see what was standing directly in front of her all this time?

“New additions,”

Adam mused, staring at the collection on her wall. “I’m guessing you got these in Italy.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I did.” She was prepared to tell him about them if he asked. She was ready to move on.

“They seem to fit the wall,” he said, staring at them with his head cocked to the side. “The lines in Italian architecture are just stunning.”

She chuckled softly. Of course, he would always bring it back to architecture. It was his job and his life.

When he looked at the pictures, he saw only well-constructed buildings, a beauty that few others could really appreciate.

Where he saw the beauty of a well-crafted building, she saw only memories— memories of a past that she had left behind after boarding the plane to New York.

Such a sharp, determined decision had changed everything.

“Hey, you,” he said, turning to face her. “Come here.”

She walked up to him, not hesitating for a second. “Yes?”

“I really am glad you’re back,” he said, his arms circling her waist as he pulled her into a hug.

“Me, too,” she whispered against his chest.

She loved the feel of his arms around her. It felt like home. It felt like the only home she had ever known…the only one she had ever chosen. It was comfortable and relaxing, and she could have laid her head against his shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent, all day.

Just when she was getting comfortable, he pulled back and stared down into her face, memorizing every inch of it like a blueprint. “So, why those two pictures?”

he asked softly, bringing her out of her reverie.

She knew she had to answer him, and she figured she had a response. Taking a deep breath, she answered him, “Because they are the memories I want to remember from my time in Italy.”

He nodded, not needing to ask anything further. She figured he could guess that they had something to do with Marco. He would forever be intrinsically linked with Milan to her. The memories were not something Adam would ever want to know about, and she was glad that he didn’t push it.

“You know,” he began, staring back up at the picture like he was trying to find the answers hidden within the still frames. “I found out how you got those tickets.”

“What?” she asked, surprised by the change in direction. He must be talking about the tickets to Marco’s grand opening. She had never discovered their origin. “How did you find out? They were dropped off at my front door.”

“I know. I didn’t really believe you at the time, but I found out that you were right,” he said, looking a bit sheepish.

“Of course, I was right. I wouldn’t lie to you about something like that,” she told him. Oh, those tickets were the key to her ending up in Italy!

“Sorry. It didn’t seem very plausible at the time,” he admitted.

“Well, who sent them, and how did you find out?” she demanded, curiosity getting the better of her.

“John,” he said, glancing into her green eyes for the shock that immediately registered there.

Her stomach felt a bit queasy. She couldn’t believe what he had just said.

How? Why? What the… “Apparently, the big deal that he had negotiated with Global was for Marco’s clothing line to come to New York, and the designer gave him two complimentary tickets as a thank you of sorts.”

That son of a bitch! She wasn’t sure if she could form coherent sentences because she was so furious. Of all the f**king people to gain her access to Marco Moretti, it had to be the one person that she despised for his very existence in her life. Stupid, f**king hot, tattooed man!

Why the hell did he send her tickets?

Hadn’t he done enough damage?

“He told me that he would have given them to you in person, but you were out, and he had a flight to catch. He wanted to apologize, and I guess this was the only way he knew how. Not sure how he knew you wanted to be at that opening.”

Because she had told him…or at least told him about how she wanted to model.

She couldn’t believe this. She just couldn’t.

She knew that she should be happy with John. He had given her the means to model in Italy all through his supposed apology, but she just couldn’t be happy with him. Not only had he ruined her relationship once by kissing her at the Hookah Lounge, he had then sent her the very tickets, introducing her to Marco, that forced the untimely destruction of her relationship a second time. Unforgivable!

She didn’t care what his supposed intentions were. All she cared was what had happened because of his interference.

“Pretty nice thing for John to do to apologize. He didn’t have to give those tickets to you and look at the direction it took your life. You got a job modeling in Italy,” Adam said, trying to sound more excited than he had two months ago when she had suggested the opportunity.