Rebound Envy (Rebound #2) (11 page)

Despite the absence of the bride and groom, the party's still going. The room is booked for another hour, and Connor pulls me back onto the dance floor. I've been dancing with groups and a few other men throughout the reception, but this is my first dance with Connor. I even danced once with Scott. I was worried it would be awkward when he asked me to dance, but there were no hard feelings left over our breakup. He was there with a new date, Eva, who he'd met at his gym. She is a much better fit for him than I ever was.

I'm glad Connor's finally asked me to dance. He's been giving me appreciative looks all day, and danced with every other single woman here under age fifty. I'm not sure what's taken him so long to get to me, but now that he has I'm not going to complain.
 

We're dancing face to face to a slower song, my hands on his broad shoulders and his on my hips. I'm glad I'm wearing heels, so that our heights are not as disparate as they would be if were I flat footed. As it is, he only has to lean down a little to speak in my ear to be heard over the music.
 

"You look great in that dress." His voice is low and rumbly in my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. He pulls back and grins, and I smile back. He has the same charming smile as his older brother. It's easy to see how Brian landed Jenna so easily if they're anything alike.
 

"You too!" I almost shout it back, since I can't get my mouth as close to his ear as he can to mine. He laughs and I realize what I've said. "I mean, you look great in your tux, even with it half off by now." He's long since discarded the jacket and tie, and is just wearing the pants, shirt, and vest with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He's been dancing for a while, so I can imagine that he's gotten too warm for the full tux.

His eyes glint with mischief at my mention of him being half out of his tux, but the music changes before he can say anything. This song is a little faster with a strong bass beat. He spins me around so my back is to his front, his hands still on my hips, and starts us moving in time to the music in a slow grind. Nothing raunchy, just sexy. After a moment I realize that I can feel his erection pressing into my back just above the crack of my ass where our bodies are connected. Why hello, Connor, Jr.

I'm just starting to get into this dance, thinking that it's too bad that Connor lives halfway across the country, when the warmth of him pressed against me is suddenly gone. I almost stumble from the abruptness of his departure.
 

"What the hell, man?" I whip around to see Connor pushing Adam's hand off his shoulder.

Adam shrugs. "I'm cutting in."

Connor reaches for my hand. "Then ask nicely or wait your turn. Grab me like that again and I'll break your hand. I don't care if you are my brother's best friend."

I can see Adam's jaw clenching, but he ignores Connor and turns to me. "C'mon, Amy. We need to talk."

Both men are looking at me expectantly. Connor's still holding my hand, tugging a little to get me to join him on the dance floor again. Adam's face is blank except for the muscle in his jaw bulging rhythmically. I can tell he's pissed, and I probably do owe him an explanation for bailing last night and not returning the messages he left on my room phone. I guess I can be grateful he waited until after Brian and Jenna left to have it out with me.
 

I sigh, wanting to avoid having this turn into a dick swinging contest between the two of them. I squeeze Connor's hand once before letting go. I go up on tiptoe and lean in close to his ear to make myself heard. "I do need to talk to him. Thanks for the dance."

His blue eyes search my face, making sure I'm okay with going off with an obviously angry Adam. "Okay. Find me when you're done if you want to dance some more."
 

I smile and nod and he drops a kiss on my cheek before heading off in search of another dance partner. I turn to see Adam, his golden eyes glittering dangerously until Connor is swallowed up by the rest of the dancers. Shaking my head at his behavior, I start walking toward the bar.
 

Adam catches up to me. "Where are you going? I thought you agreed to talk."

I cast him a quick glance. "I did. I just have a feeling I'll need a drink for this talk."

He starts to order two glasses of wine once we get to the bar, but I cut him off. "Whisky, neat." I can feel Adam's eyes on me, but I ignore him while I wait for my drink.
 

Once we both have our drinks I lead us over to a table in a corner away from the majority of people. It's further away from the speakers by the dance floor, so it's easier to talk and be heard, and we're far enough away that people aren't likely to overhear or interrupt.

I sit down, taking a sip of my whisky, relishing the burn in my throat as I swallow. I don't often go for hard liquor, but this seems like a situation that calls for it.

Adam hovers near the table, glancing around before directing his attention at me. "I thought we could go somewhere a little more private."

I shake my head, and reach down to take off my shoes. "My feet hurt and I want to sit down. And I think a less private place might be a better idea for us, all things considered." I'm trying for a sardonic tone, but I'm not sure I pull it off.

Adam looks like he's going to argue for a moment, but instead nods and pulls out the chair next to mine, settling into it, taking a lazy sip of his wine before setting his glass on the table.

We sit in silence for a few minutes, his body close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him, but not quite touching me. I wait for him. Since he's the one insisting that we talk, he can start the conversation.

Finally, "What the hell, Amy?" His voice is soft and laced with pain, pain that's reflected in his face. His masks are gone and he's showing me something real, for what might be the first time since we met.

I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. I don't even know what to say.

He looks away from me, and I'm a little bit relieved not to be the one to break eye contact first this time. "Why'd you leave last night?"

Again, I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Why did I leave last night? Adam's still staring in the direction of the dance floor where everyone's still dancing. Some people left shortly after Brian and Jenna made their exit, but it's still quite a party.
 

Before I can come up with something to say, Adam's speaking again. "I was in the bathroom for like five seconds—five fucking seconds, Amy—and when I came out the door was closing. It took me another five seconds to fix my pants, and when I went into the hall you had disappeared. Vanished like you hadn't been there. If you hadn't left your underwear I might have thought it was just a dream."

A wave of heat rushes up my neck and over my cheeks at his words.
 

He turns and looks at me again, the naked hurt still on his face, his eyes searching mine. "Where did you go? Why did you leave?"

I decide to focus on the first question. I can answer that one. "Back to my room."

He raises his eyebrows. "I went to your room and you didn't answer when I knocked on the door. Were you just avoiding me?"

I knock back my whisky, feeling the need for the rest of my liquid courage before continuing with this. I give a little shake of my head. "I took the stairs. I saw you at my door from the window in the stairwell and waited until you left."

He scrubs his hands over his face. "Why?"

It's my turn to stare at the dance floor while I talk. "I figured you just wanted a quick fuck to get me out of your system. I didn't feel like staying long enough to get some kind of 'let's be friends' speech or something."

He's staring at me. I can feel it, but I refuse to turn my head to look at him. "I don't know how to be friends with you, Amy."

I can't stifle the snort that comes out. "Ain't that the truth." I start to lift my glass for another drink, and remember it's empty. Damn.
 

"What's that supposed to mean?" His voice is defensive.
 

I huff out a breath, almost a laugh but not quite. "We've never been friends, Adam. It's painfully obvious that you can't be friends with me, can't be anything with me, even though it would make things so much easier."

I risk a glance at him, and his brow is furrowed, the corners of his mouth pulled down. "What do you mean we've never been friends? We were friendly when we first met."

My eyes bulge a little at that. "Adam, that was flirting, not being friends. There's a really big difference. If you don't know that, then it's no wonder you can't figure out how to be friends with me."

He crosses his arms over his chest, and I try to ignore how that pulls his shirt tight across his shoulders and upper arms. "I don't want to be friends with you."

"Yes, that's been rather obvious, too." I play with my empty glass, wishing it would magically refill with liquor, like an adult version of the enchanted tables in the great hall at Hogwarts.

"It has?" When I look at him his eyebrows are climbing in surprise. "Then why did you take off last night?"

It's my turn to be confused. "Of course it's been obvious that you don't want to be friends with me. You've been treating me like shit since Jenna and Brian's engagement party. Even tonight, you almost punched out Connor for dancing with me and then dragged me over here for whatever the hell this is. Friends don't act like that." I pause, looking down at my glass again. "And angry fucking after all that isn't exactly incentive to stick around."

Adam is still and silent for a moment. Then, "Fuck." He says it quietly, almost under his breath, but I hear him. "Amy, look at me." When I keep messing with my glass he places his hand on my leg. "Please."

It's the "please" that does it. There's a note of pleading in his voice that has never been there before, so I give in and look at him. So many emotions are competing on his face that I can't quite make them all out—frustration, anger, desire?

"I'm sorry for acting like an asshole at Jenna and Brian's engagement party and afterward. And for almost punching out Connor earlier. I was angry and jealous. I don't want to be friends with you because I want to be with you. I don't want you dating other guys or dancing with other guys. I want you to date me, to dance with me, to come back to my room for the second round I intended us to have last night."

My reaction to this declaration is mixed. So many emotions bubble up inside me, fighting for dominance—confusion, frustration, hope, and disbelief. I'm overwhelmed by them all and flounder in my mind for a moment before latching onto one. I scoff. I guess disbelief is the one I'm going with first. "Adam, you had a chance to date me, to be with me, and you never called back after our second date. You were oddly formal every time I saw you after that, until the engagement party when you decided to be a giant prick. I might buy that you still have some weird hangup where I'm concerned, but I don't buy that you actually want to date me now, after all this time, and after you definitely had your chance."

He sits back in his chair, studying my face. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, scrubbing a hand over his face and running it through his hair.
 

I'm so done with this crazy thing between us. I guess last night got him out of my system. Or it would have if it didn't leave me craving more. But I can't keep up with this blowing hot and cold and he isn't forthcoming with any kind of reason that explains his behavior. "Goodbye, Adam."
 

I push my chair back and start to get up, but his hand on my arm stops me. "Please, Amy. Just give me a minute and I'll explain everything."
 

I stare at his hand on my arm, then his face. With another sigh, I nod and sit back in my chair again. If hearing him out is what it takes to end this, then I'll let him talk. It will all be over soon, and I can finally move on.

He takes his hand off my arm. "I need to start from the beginning. When you and Jenna first came into the bar, you and I hit it off right away. Almost as fast as Brian and Jenna. Except I was seeing someone at the time. I hesitated to break it off with her for a while, thinking that I had just developed a little crush on someone else. We'd been together for a year at that point. I think she was expecting me to propose soon. Well, I know she was. She dropped a lot of not very subtle hints, but I wasn't ready to take that step with her, especially when I was developing feelings for someone else.
 

"So I waited. And then I realized that if I had feelings for someone else, then maybe I should end it with her and open myself up to other possibilities. Even after I broke up with her I still waited a couple weeks before asking you out. I wanted to be sure it wasn't just a passing crush."

"Adam, it was months between when we met and when you finally asked me out. That seems like more than a passing crush to me."

Adam nods. "Me too. That's why I asked you out."

"So, that's all it took for you to get over me, huh? A couple dinners, a few kisses, and your crush was cured." I'm trying for airy indifference, but it's so heavily inflected with sarcasm that it doesn't come across at all.

Adam clenches his jaw, his eyes growing intense. "Not even close. I wanted to come inside with you that night after our second date. But I'd gotten a text from my ex while we were out. She said it was urgent and threatened to come find me if I didn't call her within a certain amount of time. I didn't want her to ruin our evening, so I went home, intending to call you the next day to schedule another date." He pauses in his story to take a sip of his wine.
 

"And? What happened?" I can't help prodding. I've been driving myself crazy wondering what happened for months.

"She said she was pregnant." He spits out the words, his mouth a grim line. He reaches for my hand, his eyes sincere. "I believed her, the crazy bitch. I couldn't bring you into that situation. I couldn't put that on you, since our relationship was so new. I had no intention of getting back together with her, but wanted to be there for her and for the baby, for my baby.