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“Madison,” he said, her name a whispered breath of anguish.
“This is rather sudden,” she said. “I—I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you love me,” he said, not sure why her face was so blurry all of a sudden. “Say you want me. Say yes.”
“Adam, I do love you,” she said calmly.
He didn’t believe her. Not when she said it like that.
“We need to talk about this.”
He didn’t want to fucking talk about it. He wanted her to accept him. All of him. He shot to his feet and crammed the ring back into his pocket. She reached for his arm, but he shrugged off her piteous touch. Had she ever truly loved him, or had it always just been pity?
God-fucking-damn it. Why had he ever trusted her with his heart? Why had he ever thought she’d want it?
He stalked to the Harley and climbed on. Whenever he wanted to escape what was currently eating him alive—it seemed to change on a daily basis—he took his bike for a long ride. But even as he started the engine, he knew running off wouldn’t work this time. He couldn’t escape Madison. She was under his skin. Lodged deep in his heart. And he couldn’t leave her here among snakes and other dangerous creatures.
“Get on the bike,” he said.
“Adam . . .”
“Get on the goddamned bike, Madison!”
Hands knotted in the hem of her T-shirt, she just stood there staring at him. “You aren’t leaving me here?”
That stung almost more than her rejection. “I love you enough to ask you to marry me, but you don’t think I love you enough to give you a ride?”
“But you’re mad.”
“I’m not mad,” he said. Hurt. Broken. Gutted. Worthless, hopeless, and devastated. Yes, all those things. But not mad.
“I’m sorry.” She blinked back tears, and if she started crying then he was going to be mad. She didn’t have the right to cry over this. He was the one who should be crying.
He ripped his gaze from her, stared straight ahead, and revved the engine. “Get on.”
“Adam, I—”
He clenched his teeth. “Get. On.”
“I think . . . I should go . . . home,” she said.
“Then I’ll take you to the airport,” he said, forcing his voice to remain calm. “But I’m not leaving you here.”
“Adam, I just need some time to think things over. This would be a big step for me. For us. I’m not sure we’re ready. Maybe if we talk about it—”
“I don’t want to talk about this now,” he said, revving the engine again.
“Then when?” she said.
“Maybe after I get my guts shoved back inside where they belong.” He released a small huff of breath and shook his head. This was why he pushed people away. Exactly this. He had a low tolerance for pain. Not physical pain—he could take his fair share of that. But every time he let someone in, they hurt him. This emotional bullshit had always ripped him apart. He couldn’t stand it. He had to escape somehow. On his bike. In his music or his art. With drugs or sex or some other vice. And since the only route available to him at the moment was the Harley, he revved the engine again.
Madison touched his sleeve, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. He knew she’d be staring at him with pity, and that was the last fucking thing he wanted at the moment. And if she understood him, she’d know that.
Chapter Twelve
Madison clung to Adam’s hips and pressed her face against his back, fighting tears and trying to breathe through the tight knot in her throat. She didn’t want to hurt him, but knew it was too late for that.
How could he just ask her to marry him out of the blue like that? And why had it shocked her so much? She was still trembling.
They just needed to talk through this. Marriage was a huge step and while she wanted to settle down someday, she wasn’t sure now was the right time. She didn’t want to rush into something so monumental. She’d had no idea Adam had even considered marriage as an option. And while her heart was vying for the chance to call Adam her husband, she couldn’t seem to ignore the doubts placed there by everyone who didn’t think they stood a fighting chance to maintain any relationship, much less one as important as husband and wife.
And then there was the fact that he didn’t want kids. And had never discussed the topic with her. He never discussed anything with her. How could they make a marriage work if he kept things from her? Important things. At least they were important to her. He blew them off as if they were frivolous.
By the time they reached the hotel, she had almost calmed down enough to think. She still wasn’t sure what to say to him to make things right. She wanted to be his friend, his lover, his woman. But did she want to be his wife? The reckless part of her that Adam had awakened wanted to forge headlong into the future and accept his proposal right there, but the ingrained part that always held her back with fear wanted to retreat.
Adam parked the bike and just sat there.
“Adam?” she said after an unbearably long minute of silence.
“Get off.”
She scrambled from the back of the bike, using his arm for stability. She removed her helmet and waited. The sinking feeling in her stomach and her heart was almost too much to bear.
“We can talk about this,” she said. She wanted to talk about it. So she could figure out what was in his head before attempting to tackle what was going on in hers.
“Can you go up to the room alone?” he said quietly. “I need a minute.”
“Adam, it’s not that I—”
“Please.” His voice sounded thready. Desperate. She’d never heard him sound like that before.
“Okay,” she said. “But we need to talk.”
She tried to hand him her helmet, but his hands tightened around the handlebar grips, so she set it on the ground near his heavy leather boot.
“Soon,” she added, before turning away. “We need to talk soon.”
She headed through the parking garage toward the elevator, hoping he’d call after her saying he was ready to talk now. Praying she hadn’t destroyed the bond between them.
She stepped onto the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. Just before the door slid shut, she saw him remove his helmet and wipe at his eyes with the heel of his hand. Her heart shattered as the doors slid shut.
She had to make this right. Or at least make him feel confident in her feelings for him until she could make a sound decision about their future. She knew he wasn’t ready to talk. It would take time for him to open up. She knew that about him. And she could be patient. But how could she keep him from pushing her away when she’d hurt him so profoundly? First last night and again today.
She needed time to sort through it all, but Adam had never been a patient man. He was used to taking what he wanted, and if he couldn’t attain it, he moved on to the next thing. She didn’t want him to move on to the next thing. She loved him too much to let him get away.
She let herself into the empty hotel room, checking the hallway in both directions in hopes that he’d caught up with her before she closed the door.
They always connected best on an emotional level when they were connected on a physical level. So maybe if she could get him into bed, he’d realize that she still loved him, still wanted him, sti
ll needed him, and that maybe after she reflected on the idea of being his wife for longer than five seconds or even an hour, she’d want to marry him. But she wasn’t going to make any promises she didn’t intend to keep, no matter how much she wanted to spare his feelings.
She shed her clothes and climbed into bed, curling her body
