“My God,” Emma whispered in surprise. “She looked fine when I met her.”
“She is . . . now,” Brant agreed, “but it took her a couple of years and hitting rock bottom to get to that point. She has just recently finished a stint in a rehabilitation facility for drug abuse. The doctor who helped her get treatment is also her fiancé. She came to town to visit her parents and tell them about what had been happening with her. They really didn’t know the level of her addiction or where she had been since leaving home. I guess they didn’t take it well and were more worried about appearances than their daughter. Her fiancé, Carter, was completely against her visiting her parents and possibly seeing old friends who were bad influences this soon after treatment. They had a fight before she left and after her parents turned her away, she didn’t feel that she had anywhere else to turn. She wanted somewhere away from all of the pressure, to regroup. I think she also feared relapsing if she was left on her own for too long.”
Emma found herself running a hand through her hair in much the same nervous gesture that Brant had used earlier. His story explained why Alexia was staying with him but didn’t explain why he had been pulling away from her. She feared that there was an explanation she wasn’t going to want to hear. Choosing her words carefully, she asked, “Is she still staying with you?”
“No, I asked her to leave before I came here to you. Em . . . something happened while she was staying with me that I haven’t told you about.”
She nodded her head for him to continue, even though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. If he had slept with Alexia, she didn’t think she could get past it . . . not now.
When he remained quiet, she prodded him softly. “Please tell me, Brant. I can’t stand not knowing.”
Clearing his throat, he said, “Remember the night I went out to dinner with her? I called you afterward. I’m sure you noticed on the phone that I’d had too much to drink.” When she agreed that she had, he continued on. “Well, the next morning she thanked me for agreeing to see if there were still romantic feelings between us. She needed to know before making a final commitment to Carter. I didn’t know what in the hell she was talking about. The only thing I remembered encouraging her to do was go back to school. I . . . just, fuck, I panicked. When Gray needed someone to cover his travel for a while, I jumped at it. I was scared because I was falling in love with you and there she was, making me doubt myself. Making me question my feelings. I realized after you left that the only thing I was really afraid of was loving and losing you. I never felt about Alexia the way I feel about you. She simply brought all of my fears to the surface. I was terrified of making a mistake and being destroyed by it again.”
“That’s why you were pulling away from me,” Emma added. “I guess you being sick was just an excuse too. But did you sleep with her?”
“No! Hell no, I didn’t. There really wasn’t anything physical involved. The day she told me that I’d agreed to see where things went, I left town. Things with Alexia were never like they are between you and me. She isn’t someone to initiate physical contact beyond a hug.”
Stiffening, Emma asked, “Are you saying I’m all over you?”
“Shit, no, baby. Well, I mean, yes, I want you all over me every moment of the day. I can’t keep my hands off you. I don’t feel like that toward her; I never did.”
“I knew in my gut that something was wrong when you avoided me like the plague after you returned home from your trip. I thought you were sleeping with her.”
Brant took her hand before saying, “I didn’t sleep with Alexia. I know how this looks, but I swear nothing happened between us other than what I’ve told you.”
Emma sighed, partly relieved and partly hurt. “I believe you; but damn it you’ve had me on a complete emotional roller coaster. I thought we crossed into a new place in our relationship while you were away. Our phone calls every night made me believe that we were on the same page. Then you came home and immediately started pushing me away. I was totally confused. I thought you wanted Alexia and were just afraid to admit it to me. It was almost like going on a date with someone who never calls again and you’re left wondering what went wrong.”
Brant pulled her into his arms, holding her close. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. I know I made a fucking mess out of everything. I know you weren’t completely comfortable with her staying with me and I don’t blame you. I’d have been a mess if the circumstances were reversed. Hell, I almost cussed my happily married brother out for taking you home that night.”
A little chuckle escaped Emma’s lips before reality returned. “I just . . . It’s hard for me to get past the fact that you kept all of this from me. I know we hadn’t officially made any promises to each other, but you hurt me, Brant.”
“Emma, I lo—”
She put her finger to his lips, stopping what she knew was coming. “Please don’t. Not right now. I need some time to process everything. I never want to look back and think that you said that to me for the first time under duress.” She reached over and clicked off the lamp before turning back to him. “No words tonight, just take me away for a while.”
Without comment, Brant pulled her into his arms and even though she didn’t think it was possible, within moments there was nothing on her mind but him. His arms holding her, his body possessing hers and his mouth laying siege to every inch of skin she exposed. Where she would have rushed to completion, he gentled her, drawing more waves of pleasure from her body. No words of love were spoken, no promises made. Instead, she felt Brant use his body to show her a love that took her breath away.
Afterward, she lay spent across his chest, feeling their hearts hammer in tempo. She drifted away as she felt his lips brush her forehead. The first real sleep she had had in days claimed her.
When Emma woke in the morning, Brant’s side of the bed was already cold and she knew without looking around the room that his suitcase was gone. On his pillow, written on a scrap piece of paper that he had obviously found in the room, was a note: “Flying back with Mark and the others this morning. Don’t want to leave, but giving you the time you need. I’ll be waiting, baby. Love, B.” For the first time since the nightmare had begun, she cried herself dry, to a point where there were no tears left. She didn’t try to make herself stop or put a time limit on her grief; she cried until it wasn’t possible to cry anymore.