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She shrugs a shoulder, her expression neutral. “Just ready to get out of here, I guess.”
Something in the way she says those words stings my chest enough that I actually rub a palm across the intangible wound.
Where did that come from?
I try to redirect, thinking maybe she just said it wrong.
“Do you want to make breakfast together in the house before you leave in a bit?” I ask. “My mom will definitely be up already, and you know the twins will wake up if they smell bacon cooking in—”
“No, I don’t think so.”
Her swift cutoff confirms it.
Something is different this morning.
“What’s your deal?” I ask, having no clue where this attitude of hers is coming from.
“No deal,” she answers, rising from the loveseat and beginning to collect her last few belongings: phone and plug from the nightstand, wallet from the top of the short bookshelf. “I’m just ready to go.”
I feel like something is happening right now, but I can’t for the life of me imagine what it is.
Last night was the best, most amazing night I’ve ever had with a woman in my entire life. For me, sure, but seeing Ruby finally let go enough to hit that peak she’s struggled so hard and so long to climb?
It was incredible.
To wake up to her irritable attitude this morning feels…wrong. In many ways.
Especially since I told her I love her last night and she didn’t say it back.
I figured she was overwhelmed by the moment. I decided to accept that her orgasm in the wake of my words was answer enough at the time.
Now, watching as she dithers around the room, looking for little things to keep herself busy, so clearly desperate to get out of this house and on the road to the airport, I wonder if…maybe her lack of response was her actual response.
Maybe she doesn’t feel the same way about me as I do her?
It doesn’t seem entirely possible given the way things have been between us during the last week and a half. The intimate moments, the deep conversations, the way we both broke down walls with each other.
I mean, I can’t even remember the last time I was a cranky asshole to anyone. That has to count for something, right?
In this moment, I’m not so sure.
“I think I’m going to leave early,” she says as she tucks her stuff into her little backpack.
“Ruby.”
“Avoid the traffic and make sure I have time to return my rental.”
“Ruby.”
“I don’t know the area very well, and flying is already stressful enough, so I should really—”
“Ruby!”
She finally stops talking and looks at me, but her eyes drop to the floor again.
I want to say something that will get her to stop shutting me out right now, but I don’t know what the hell I could possibly say that I haven’t already said before. I don’t know what has actually caused her to retreat into herself and scramble to get away from me.
“What the hell is going on?” I finally ask. “What happened between last night and this morning that has created this…weirdness?”
