Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
He doesn’t reply.
“Do you like me or was I deluding myself?”
He steps forward and grips my arms so I can’t pull back. Finally, I’m as close as he wants me to be, and I have no choice but to stand right there in front of him, inhaling his body wash. It’s nauseating and perfect. I can’t stand it, and yet I want to let my head fall against his chest and sigh.
“I like you. If I were dating right now, I’d want to be with you, okay?” He bends down so his gaze meets mine. Even still, I do my best to focus on the gym floor. “The reason I’ve been ignoring your calls and emails is because I like you too much. Of course I want to date you. Of course I want to go to dinner. I want to go back to that night in your apartment and skip the stupid chamber of commerce meeting. Do you get it? I want you, but it’s not the right time. I’ve been trying to give us both some space.”
“I get it. If we were to date, I’d just be your rebound girl.” He bristles at the assessment, but it’s the truth. “Have you dated anyone since Olivia? Have you even had a one-night stand?”
He barely shakes his head.
I yank my arms free from his hold. This is too much. I’m at my limit. My apartment, my car, my job, my love life—there isn’t a single thing that isn’t in shambles.
“This makes so much sense,” I say, more to myself than to him. “Why wouldn’t I go for a man who is completely uninterested in dating? This is perfect.”
I toss my hands in the air and whip around to grab Mouse. I want to leave now.
“Madeleine—”
He’s following behind me, trying to get me to listen.
“It’s not you, it’s me,” I mumble under my breath. “Daisy is going to have a field day. I can’t believe she talked me into this.”
“Madeleine, you’re taking this personally.”
“Of course I’m taking this personally!” I shout just as I reach Mouse and grab hold of his leash.
It’s a couple dozen steps to the exit and Adam beats me there, barricading the door so I can’t leave.
“Oh, very mature,” I chide, crossing my arms and waiting for him to move.
“I’m not letting you leave until you understand where I’m coming from.”
I squeeze my eyes closed as warning bells start to ring in my head. I’m going to cry. The tears are forming, and if I cry right now, in front of him, there will be no going back. I’ll have to go hike the Appalachian Trail.
“Madeleine, listen to me,” he implores, his voice so soft and comforting.
He thinks he will be able to explain away my anger, but what he doesn’t understand is that I get it: he isn’t in a place to date, he doesn’t want to lead me on, and he respects me too much to use me to get over Olivia.
I repeat all of that out loud to him, just to verify.
“Do I have it right?”
He shakes his head. “I am over Olivia, but that doesn’t mean I want to jump right into another serious relationship.”
“I get it.”
I really, really do.
He groans, and there he goes again, tugging his damn hand through his hair. Each time he does it, it gets a little more messy, a little more irresistible.
“Let me leave, Adam.”
“No.”
I try to scroll through the few self-defense moves I know from the action movies I’ve seen over the years. I could go for the jugular, maybe stomp on his foot, but that seems too cruel, even in this situation.
Adam tugs Mouse’s leash out of my hand and tosses it to the ground. Mouse, for all of his dog instincts, walks a few feet away and goes back to lying down and ignoring us. I sear him with my gaze. What if I was in real danger, Mouse? Some dog you are.
I step to the left, right, left again and I think I’ve outsmarted Adam, but then he grips my shoulders and spins me until my back is to the door. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place, literally. Adam’s thigh is pressed between my legs and his hands hold both of my arms captive against the cold metal door, like two goal posts. This exact pose has happened in a dream before, but it was Michael Fassbender standing where Adam is, and Michael didn’t have quite as much emotion in his eyes.
“I told you I didn’t want to date,” Adam says, his hands tightening on my arms enough that I don’t even think of trying to break his grip.
“Yes you did,” I bite out. “And then you proceeded to flirt with me incessantly. Sorry your signals got crossed! Usually guys who aren’t interested in dating don’t eye me like I’ve been dipped in chocolate sauce!”