Addy And The Smart Guy (Big Girl Panties #3) (7 page)

Which was ridiculous. Even if she were his, she wouldn't be his. He wouldn't own her. Women didn't want to be possessed like that. Not women like Addison, anyway. Women like his mother, might, but only because they'd married a rich man and become lazy and unambitious.
 

"My first big rebellion," she agreed. "I'm glad I'm here."

"Me, too," he said. "I'm glad you're here."

She leaned down and kissed him.

They went out to breakfast. After that, they took a stroll down Main Street. The mountain town was small and quaint, but having a heavy tourist draw, it was also very active.
 

For some reason, they'd landed on the topic of classic literature, and Addison said, "Hemingway is overrated."

To which Grey replied, "I fundamentally disagree with you."

So they stood under an awning by a coffee shop and debated the subject until Grey pulled her into a bookstore, bought a collection of Hemingway short stories, then took her back to the coffee shop to read one of them to her.
 

She listened with her chin propped on her palm, calmly sipping her coffee. When at last he closed the book and lifted his gaze to her, he only found her lips pursed, one eyebrow slightly elevated in boredom. "Are you serious?" he asked in frustration.

"I just think that his stories are so distinctively masculine in nature, they can't speak to a universal human experience and are, therefore, overrated."

"So basically the old 'Hemingway is a misogynist' argument? Addison, at least be original."

"That's not at all what I'm saying. Whether or not he's a misogynist is beside the point. His stories don't speak to me."

"Oh, I see. You can't relate, so they're irrelevant."

"Not irrelevant. Overrated. Quit putting words in my mouth."

"I'm stunned, honestly. The next thing you'll be telling me that because you're not outdoorsy, Jack London is overrated."

"Jack London
is
overrated."

"What?" Grey practically shrieked.

Addison laughed. "What's the big deal? Why are you being such a book snob?"

"I'm not a book snob, I just can't get over the fact that you're basing your criticism of famous literature on your own, limited life experience. You need to get out more, is what."

"I will say, I did watch The Snows of Kilimanjaro with Gregory Peck. It was wonderful."

"Was it wonderful because of the story? Or because you have a crush on Gregory Peck?"

She grinned and finished off her coffee. "What do you think?"

"I think you need to watch less and read more."

She laughed. "You're just too intellectual for me, Grey," she said, patting his hand. Then she rose and returned her coffee mug to the counter. As she headed for the exit, she said, "Let's take a walk. Maybe the fresh air will improve my literary tastes."

He grabbed the book and hurried after her, taking her hand strolling by her side, proud to be with her. They walked toward the lot several blocks away where they'd parked before making their way down Main Street. "I have a question," Addison said.

"The answer is always yes."

She laughed a little and nudged him with her shoulder. "You said I need to get out more. I've always known that. I'm not afraid to. I want to get out. I want to do some big things before I settle down."

He waited, wondering what her question was, fearing that she might ask him to help her get a job that would take her far away from him.

"My question is, did you…did you want me to stay? I mean…I know you wanted me to stay. But, when I was deciding whether to stay for grad school or go on out and get some experience, and I asked your advice, did you…knowingly…try to influence me to stay?"

Shit, what kind of a question was that? He realized he'd stopped walking, and she moved a few steps past him before turning back. He stared down into her eyes. "I never even asked myself that question," he murmured.

"Well I want to know, now," she said. Her voice was bold, but not angry. Not judgmental.

He swallowed down his shame. "I told myself you'd make the decision that was best for you. That my counsel wouldn't matter. But yes, deep down, I knew you had feelings for me. I knew if I suggested I wanted you to stay, you would. Just like I knew you'd stop dating that soccer player—"

"Joel."

"Whatever. Just like I knew you'd stop dating him if I asked."

Her expression remained blank, with only a small furrow in her brow. After a long moment, she nodded. "Okay. Thank you for being honest."

She started to walk away, but he grabbed her wrist to stop her. "I'm sorry. Really, Addison, I'm sorry about that. I've been so selfish, and—"

"I let you. I don't blame you for anything, because I was only too glad to be strung along. It's on me, Grey. I appreciate you being honest."

He was shaking his head. How could he let her absolve him of responsibility? As the older one, he should have been stronger, more selfless. "I'm really sorry."

She gave him a smile and squeezed his hand. "Come on. It's in the past."

They strolled along until they got back to the car. They didn't make it back to the cabin. He saw a dirt road off the highway, turned down it, and parked out of sight of the main road. They tore into each other, scrambling into the back seat of the rental car and out of their clothes.

CHAPTER SEVEN

That night, while Grey was out getting dinner, Addy showered and dressed, fixing her hair and makeup, putting on a nice dress and shoes. Addy's mother always dressed for dinner. In fact, she dressed for everything. Addy wasn't sure she could ever remember her mom wearing pajamas in the house.
 

Zoey wore pajamas in front of Kellen all the time. Addy wanted that with someone someday. She had a feeling that she wasn't going to have that with her incredibly hot, incredibly non-committed professor. He definitely seemed like the dress for dinner type.

After she set the table, she sat down and waited. In spite of her efforts to keep from forming expectations, she'd still hoped that this time with Grey would bring them closer together.
 

Now she saw that it was intended to push them further apart. They were supposed to do what they needed to do, fizzle, and move on with their lives. Addy hoped that it happened this way, because if it didn't, she would be the only one to go home heartbroken.

Sex. She decided it was good. The orgasms were indescribable. No wonder she'd never understood them. Who after having one, could possibly put words to it. And Grey had been…unexpected in terms of passion. If she'd ever troubled herself to imagine it, she'd pictured him docile and gentle. In truth, he was anything but. His body was incredible, and his equipment…well, more than adequate. A lot more than adequate.
 

Still, there was no relaxing. She had so much more she wanted to give, but he didn't want that from her, so she was forced to guard her heart, even as her body surrendered to his.
 

He'd so easily talked to her of other women. As though he didn't understand that it might hurt her to think of him with someone else. As though the sound of Caroline's name on his lips wouldn't break her heart. Perhaps she was too simple, too provincial, too naïve. Perhaps she needed to get in a more worldly mindset and think of this as a sophisticated outing with a sophisticated man.

Easier said than done. The one thing Grey was doing right, the one thing that caused her to question everything, was the way he touched her. His fingers caressed her skin even when he wasn't paying attention. Almost like his body reached for her even when his conscious mind was unaware. Maybe it meant nothing.

Grey came in with two, large takeout bags from an Italian restaurant—chicken Marsala for her, tortellini Alfredo for him, along with salads, breadsticks, and a bottle of wine. He smiled when he saw her. Which made her smile, of course. She jumped up to help him put the food out.
 

They sat across from each other with candles and wine and everything perfectly arranged. "I'm not sure what sorts of things you like doing," Grey said as he bit into some tortellini.

Addy licked her lips. She'd asked for the chicken Marsala. She loved chicken Marsala. But that tortellini was screaming her name. She took a bite of her own dinner. "Anything. Whatever you usually do."

"When I'm here? I usually read and write. Not exactly couple's activities."

"I like to read. We could read together by the fireplace or something."

His eyes twinkled. "Sounds nice. But what else? There's a wine tasting event tomorrow. There are cooking classes. We could take in a play at the community theater. I'm afraid we're not exactly staying in the cultural center of the world."

"No," she said. "It's rustic. I love it. I'm sure we'll find plenty to keep busy."

He grinned and winked. "I'm sure."

She blushed furiously and took another bite of the dinner. His was halfway gone and looked so good.

He cocked his head and caught her gaze. "Did you want some of this?"

"What?"

"My tortellini. Did you want some? You're kind of gazing at it like it's a professor and you're a student who can't have him."

She laughed. "Don't flatter yourself. I never wanted you like I want that tortellini."

"Take it then. We'll switch."

She grinned as they pushed their plates at each other. She bit into the tortellini, generously soaked in Alfredo sauce, and moaned, her eyes rolling shut. "Mmm, so good."

"Do you see this relationship going anywhere?"

"I don't think so. This tortellini is kind of a commitment-phobe. I'm just going to eat it while it lasts and then thrive on the memory."

His chin was propped on his fist as he watched her. She opened her eyes. "Did you want this back?" she asked, because he hadn't eaten any of the chicken yet.
 

"No, I'm good."
 

She ate unapologetically. The extra physical activity, lately, had heightened her appetite. She might've been embarrassed by it, but she was too hungry to care.

She caught him staring. Watching. "What?" she asked with a laugh.

"You're incredibly beautiful, is all."

"So are you, Greyson." She stuffed another bite in her mouth.

Grey chuckled and leaned back in his chair, shoving a hand through his long hair.
 

Addy finally took a moment to look at him. She gulped her food down and chased it with some wine. Then she stood, walked around the table, and perched on his lap. He rested his head on her chest, and she stroked his hair with her fingertips. "What's wrong?"

He wrapped his arms around her waist. "This isn't going how I thought it would."

Her heart sank. Had she disappointed him? "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Addison, how are we ever going to say goodbye?"

She pushed him back so she could look into his eyes. "You're violating your own rule. We're supposed to be living in the moment. Not thinking about the weekend."

He smiled sadly. "A week won't be long enough, that's all I know."

Her heart swelled with love. "An eternity wouldn't be long enough."

He shrugged. "Well, that's not necessarily true. Generally, two years is the max for this sort of hormonal connection. Maybe even three. But it does eventually end."

Her heart deflated. She slumped, her hands relaxing their grip on his shoulders.

"If only we could go on a two-year vacation," Grey said.

She didn't bother to mask her disgust. "The reason people marry is because by the time the initial reaction wears off, their lives are tied up together, and they're in love."

"I'll agree about their lives being tied together. The love is only an interpretation of the hormonal reaction. They just cling to the memory of it, spending the rest of their time together desperately trying to relive those first moments together."

"Wow," Addy said in a dry voice. "You're such a romantic, Grey."

He suddenly met her eyes. "I'm sorry. You're right, this isn't romantic. Let's forget about it, okay?"

The mood was killed as far as Addy was concerned. She stood and started clearing the table, ignoring him as he began to help.
 

"Maybe we should sleep in separate rooms," Grey said. "Maybe that'll help us keep our bearings, you know? Not get too lost in each other?"

She'd thought it impossible she could feel any more disappointed, but she'd thought wrong. "Yeah," she said, as her heart broke a little. "That's fine."

"Good. It's settled then." The bastard was so damn cheerful about it. He even kissed her on the cheek as though nothing was wrong.
 

They tidied up and then retired to the den to play a game of chess. Halfway through the game, Addy realized she was sitting here on her vacation playing chess when she was supposed to be having a passionate love affair.
 

Grey made a move on the board then smiled up at her. "Your move."

She flicked her queen over. "I surrender. Look, I believe in love, Grey. I believe in it, and I believe it can last forever."

His frown was the same one he wore any time they got in an academic debate. It infuriated her because this wasn't an academic debate. It was a religious debate. It was a real, human, existential debate. "I guess you're entitled to it, Addison, but the fact remains that what we often interpret as love is merely an evolutionary response—"

"No! No, I will not let you claim that you have some sort of factual information that refutes the validity of a phenomenon that has existed since the beginning of time. Love is real, Grey. If you don't wanna believe in it, you don't have to, but don't tell me I'm wrong."

He gaped at her in shock.

She supposed she was being a little more vociferous than usual, but fuck it—this was her heart they were talking about. "You're welcome to live believing you're too smart for love, but I don't want that. And I don't want you telling me that what I feel for you isn't real; that it's merely some biological stimulus resulting from evolution for the purpose of the procreation of mankind—or whatever bullshit you wanna believe."