Chapter 52
52
Everything I’d ever felt for him was back and magnified—huge tenderness, a protective instinct and an undeniable physical longing. Had our stars finally aligned? Or was this just one more in our long list of false starts and deliberate woundings?
As soon as we reached the town, he removed my hand from his pocket. “We need to talk.”
Oh God, no.
My heart beating too fast, I tried to keep up as he strode towards the hotel. The roar of the Broderick’s full lounge was audible from the street. “We can’t talk there,” he said. “My room.”
On the first floor and very cramped, there wasn’t even an armchair. The only place to sit was on the end of the bed. The moment my feet were off the ground, the agony kicked in. “Joey, my foot’s killing me, can I take off my boots?”
He was shrugging off his coat. “Uh. Sure. Is it your bunion?”
Despite everything, I smiled. “You and your sexy talk.”
Unzipping both boots, I shoved them to the floor and cradled my swollen foot, still in its sock, trying to rock away the pain. “Right,” I said. “Talk.”
Keeping his distance, he joined me at the end of the bed. Before I could protest, he’d unpeeled the sock and taken my distended foot in his hands. “Ouch. That looks sore.”
“The state of my feet!” I protested, but his cold hands on the throbbing joint gave immediate relief. “Joey, that feels…” Light-headed, I tumbled back on the bed, glorying in the retreat of the pain. “It’s just…Thank you.”
My dread was deferred by a rush of natural painkillers. For some time, probably several minutes, I lay there, my eyes closed, listening to him breathe.
Then it came. “Anna, can you sit up, please?”
This would be some variant of how he shouldn’t have kissed me and how I shouldn’t have asked. And he was right, I shouldn’t have.
Instead, visibly changing course, he asked, “Can you take your hair down? Is that difficult or…?”
“Not difficult at all.” Deeply grateful that he wanted something from me, I slid out the chignon pin. The weight of my hair tumbled and spilled past my shoulders. “Anna.” His voice was low. “You’re dangerous.”
“I can do it again.” Already I was scooping my hair onto my head, holding it in place with my hands. “Ready?”
Barely moving, he nodded.
After a breath, I opened my hands. His expression, as my hair cascaded down, gave me hope. “Good?” I asked.
“Yeah.” With a breathless laugh, he said, “Better not do it a third time.”
Once again I braced myself for “The talk.” Instead, he reached for me, tangling his fingers in my hair. Our mouths met. Together, we toppled slowly to the bed where, for what felt like hours, we exchanged kisses so slow and intimate, I felt drugged.
I could have been twenty-eight again. I felt exactly the way I’d felt back then, that no one else would do.
Burying his face in the curve of my neck, he murmured, “What do you smell of? Something fresh. And something mysterious. And something…wild.”
The kissing began again, even hotter than before. I was on fire with longing. So was he, if his deliberately measured breath was any indication. But he was serious about abstaining from sex.
His right hand was on my face, his left on my back; there wasn’t even a hint that his fingers might brush off my nipples or slide up my thighs. I’d been playing dumb, not pushing things yet hoping to God his control would snap. But that wasn’t right.
He was conflicted: his erection spoke for itself. As did his refusal to shut this down. If I tried to change his mind, he might go for it but afterwards he wouldn’t forgive me.
During our frustrated shifting about, one side of his jeans had slid low. Lightly, I ran my thumb along the softness of his skin over the rigid curve of bone.
Sooner or later, we’d have to stop, but not just yet. A few more minutes, that was all I wanted. Well, not all I wanted…
During another repositioning, my fingers shifted a centimeter or two lower, touching a tantalizing edge of pubic hair. Palpable heat emanated from his rock hard—then my wrist was grasped, too tightly. “Anna, no. This is not going to happen.”
My devastation was tempered with acceptance, even relief—at least the agony of longing could stop.
He rolled away from me. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“I made you do it.”
“I didn’t take much persuading.” He was standing now. “Anna, obviously I want to…” He gestured to his body. “But I can’t. I shouldn’t have let it get this far. That’s on me. I’m sorry.”
We needed to talk about this. “Joey, what’s going through your mind?”
“I told you—I’m trying to change. To have relationships in a different way, to slow down, let things take time. But with you, Anna, I always want you. It’s instant and…” He searched for the right word. “…merciless.”
“What do you mean?”
“It means I can’t let my dick make yet another mistake.”
“Is that what I’d be?” I was appalled. “A mistake?”
He took a moment. “Anna.” His voice had changed. “This is not to hurt you but two hours ago, you wanted to spend the night with Ike Blakely.”
“I never took Ike seriously. He felt the same about me.”
“You don’t take me seriously either.”
“I do .” Joey was and always had been different.
“How can I tell? We’ve been here before.” And with that, he won.
“You said you forgive me,” I said.
“I do.” He took a breath. “But I don’t trust you.”
If he had punched me in the stomach, he couldn’t have hurt me more.
“Anna, this isn’t—it’s not me taking revenge.” He looked distressed. “But I need time. That night changed me. I don’t screw around anymore. It just messes me up. And you’re buffering. Right now you don’t know what you want. In a month or three or six, your life will look different. Any decision you make now is suspect. You haven’t sold your apartment.”
No, but—
“You might get back with Torres.”
“No.” I was on much more solid ground. “That’s not going to happen.”
“It did before. The last time.”
“But it’s different now.”
“It’s too soon. Think about it.” He sounded exasperated. “I fuck you. We have a good time. Then you leave or some thing goes wrong and it all goes super-weird again. You want that? Because I sure as hell don’t. We’ve hurt each other so much but it’s finally coming good, healthy…”
I’d done this, I understood. I broke him and this was my punishment.
“I should leave.”
“Don’t.”
“Joey, I can’t stay. Not while I’m…” Full of love and lust and thwarted longing.
His eyes roamed my face. “I’m sorry, Anna.”