Avoiding Intimacy (22 page)

“Me, too,” she moaned, her hands digging into his slick back.

“Will you look at me?”

She breathed heavily, letting her back fall down to the bed. He was moving faster on top of her, slamming into her body at irregular intervals, and she was on the brink. Her head tilted toward him, and her eyes slowly fluttered open.

“That’s exactly how I want to remember you.”

“Remember me?” she asked through her deep breaths.

“Every time I think about you,” he said with a smirk.

“Fuck!” she cried, orgasm ripping through her body at his sweet words.

He doubled over on top of her, grunting as he came inside of her. She shuddered, clenching around him and holding him tight. She didn’t want to let him go. She wanted to stay like this forever.

But, forever wasn’t meant to be forever.

Adam kissed Chyna lightly on her nose. He slowly rolled off of her, grabbed his boxers, and headed for the bathroom.

She watched him go with a wonderful satisfaction settling in her stomach. She had never experienced sex in quite the same way. Her heart was open, laying bare on the bed, and she felt light and free.

She was…happy.

He returned a moment later, resting his shoulder against the doorframe as he looked down at the floor. Chyna sat up on her elbows and turned her head to face him. She had his typical goofy grin on her face for once.

“Don’t go,” he whispered so softly that she barely heard him.

“Go where?” she asked, having already

forgotten

their

earlier

conversation.

“To Italy. Don’t go to Italy.”

She dropped her head back onto the pillow and smiled up at the ceiling. Why was he even bringing this up again? She was leaving in twenty-four hours. It was settled. “I have to go,” she said with a yawn, stretching her arms over her head.

“No. You don’t,” he said, his voice clearly restrained.

She kept her hands overhead and rolled to face him, lying on her right arm.

“Adam, come back to bed. I want you to hold me.”

“Chyna, aren’t you listening?” he asked. He still hadn’t looked up from the carpet.

She studied him standing there, bathed in the bathroom light. He was tense, which didn’t make any sense given the circumstances, and he wouldn’t look at her.

“I guess not,” she said softly, her heart picking up speed.

“Don’t go to Italy.”

“Adam, we’ve already talked about this,” she whined. Sitting up cautiously in bed, she wrapped the comforter around her.

“And, you don’t seem to hear what I’m saying.”

“I get that you don’t want me to go.”

“Do you?” he asked, looking up at her finally.

“Y-yes,” she said uncertainly.

She had thought that she got what he was saying. He didn’t want her to go. He would miss her. They had just had unbelievable sex. Did she mention he would miss her? Well, she would miss him, too, but it didn’t make any sense why he was bringing this up again.

“Then, why are you going?” he asked.

“Adam, I didn’t think you were serious,” she said, tilting her head and assessing him. “I mean, I know that you wanted me to stay, but I thought that was just because you were going to miss me. I didn’t think that you actually didn’t want me to pursue modeling.”

“You didn’t think I was serious? You thought I wanted my girlfriend on the other side of the planet?” he asked in disbelief.

“Well, no, but—”

“But, you were going to do it anyway.”

“I don’t understand,” she said, shaking her head. Her post-coital bliss was disappearing with every word he uttered.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Chyna, I want you to understand. I don’t want you to go. Stay with me here in New York,” he said, walking forward out of the bathroom. He sat down on the side of the bed and took her hands in his, pleading with her. “Why would you want to leave New York? Why would you want to leave me?”

“I’m not leaving you, Adam,” she reassured him. “I’ll only be gone for two months. I’ll be back before you know it.”

He shook his head. “At what cost?”

“What are you getting at?” she asked, staring down at where he was still holding her hands.

“After what happened here…” he trailed off.

“After what happened?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.

He glanced away from her but answered, “With John.”

“You think I’ll cheat on you?” she hissed. After everything that had just happened and their perfect relationship since that incident, he still thought so poorly of her. He still thought that she wouldn’t be the girlfriend that he deserved.

Her chest expanded, and her breathing suddenly became very heavy. It was like she was sucking air in and breathing it out, but none of it was happening fast enough.

Her hands began trembling lightly in his.

She couldn’t believe this. She couldn’t believe him. After the best sex of her life…he had to go and…she couldn’t even think it.

“I don’t know, Chyna. No.”

“Well, which is it?” she asked slowly, trying to make sure she kept breathing.

“No. No, I don’t think that. I just…

don’t know.”

“Now, you’re not making sense,” she whispered, clutching onto his hands to keep hers from shaking.

“I just don’t want you to go. You don’t need the money!” he insisted. “Why are you going? Why are you leaving me?”

“Adam, I’m not leaving you,” she reassured him again helplessly. Why did he keep saying that? “And, it’s not about the money. I don’t care about the money. I want to prove that I can do something right, but apparently, even the right thing is wrong.”

“You don’t need to go to Italy to prove that you can do something right, Chyna,”

he told her. “You can do something right by staying here in New York! Don’t you see?”

“No, I don’t. Can’t
you
see that I need this? Aren’t you supposed to see that?”

she pleaded.

“Chyna, but we’re happy. Right?”

“Yeah, Adam, we’re happy. I’m not unhappy with you. I just need…my own life. You have a job that you love, and you want to work late nights because you love it so goddamn much. I don’t have
anything
like that! I just have…me,” she whispered.

“I want something that’s mine.”

“I’m yours,” he told her.

“Then, let me do this!”

“Okay,”

he

said,

standing

and

dropping her hands.

She breathed out a sigh of relief. He was finally coming around. He was finally seeing that she needed this.

“Then, you should be able to do this your way,” he whispered softly.

“I agree.”

“Good.”

“I’m glad we’re finally on the same page.”

“Me, too,” he said, nodding. “I can’t do long distance.”

Chyna snapped her head around to look at him. She ground her teeth to keep from showing the shock that she was sure, if he just looked at her, registered in her eyes. “You…can’t do long distance?” she asked flatly.

“No. You want this. Then, you should have it. I’m glad we agree on that.”

“Is this about Christina?” she asked him desperately. It was the only thing that explained how this was coming so far out of left field. His last girlfriend had left him because they couldn’t do long distance. Why did he assume that she was the same way? She wished he would just talk to her!

“What?” he asked, showing the shock that she had on her face only seconds ago.

“No! This is not about Christina. This is about you wanting to go off and find something of your own. This is about you following your dreams. This is about you, Chyna. This is
not
about me.”

“Adam,” she breathed, begging him to look at her.

“I have to go,” he said, pulling his clothes back on. “This is a mutual thing.

We agreed.” He made the last part sound like a death sentence. A mutual agreement had never felt so one-sided. “Have a safe trip,” he said, glancing at her one last time over his shoulder before making a break for the door.

She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them. Her heart felt like it had been run over by a bulldozer. If she had thought her breathing was bad before, she wasn’t even sure if she was breathing now.

Her normal reaction would have been to immediately call Alexa or even Frederick and talk out this ridiculous turn of affairs. But, she didn’t even have it in her heart to give either of them a call.

What would they say to her that she couldn’t tell herself?

The fact that Adam would have the audacity to leave her not once but now twice was unbelievable. He claimed it was mutual, and maybe it was to an extent.

She had agreed with him after all. She needed to go. She needed to do this to prove to herself, if no one else, that she could do something great.

He had every right to leave her. He had every right to want to have a stable girlfriend. He had every right to find someone better.

She didn’t deserve the heartache. If he didn’t want her, then she shouldn’t want him. She could have another guy in a second.

All true.

None of it mattered now.

She brought her hand up to her eyes and pressed against them hard. God, she was a mess! Why did he have to leave?

For once, why couldn’t things be as wonderful and perfect as everyone thought her life was?

They were happy. They were so happy. Yet, she still wasn’t good enough for him. She still wasn’t good enough to keep around. She was going to be gone for two months, not six months, not a year.

They could have worked through it. Other people did it! What made them so different?

Was it just a way out? Did he want to be rid of her? This would be the easiest way for him to do that, if that was what he wanted. But, that didn’t explain his behavior. He didn’t have to come to Atlanta with her for Alexa’s graduation.

He didn’t have to be so sweet and caring.

He didn’t have to have beautiful, passionate sex with her.

He had done all those things and left her anyway. So, maybe the reasoning in the long run didn’t matter. Regardless, he had come to the same conclusion. He had struck the final blow.

She pulled her hands away from her eyes and saw that they were wet. A sob escaped her, and she bent forward over her knees, tears streaming down her face.

She hiccupped, pain racking her body as she shook with the force of her despair.

Why was she crying? Why was she crying? Why the hell was she crying?

She couldn’t cry over him. She didn’t cry over boys. This was ridiculous. She hadn’t cried the last time they had broken up…well, not until she had called Lexi and realized the extent of the situation.

Why couldn’t this be like last time?

Why couldn’t she find the anger instead of this pain that had locked itself away in her heart and was slowly eating away at it from the inside out?

PRESENT

Two weeks.

Two whole weeks.

That’s how long it took before Marco pulled the advertisement with her picture on it. It was long enough to make her truly feel the weight of what she had done, but it wasn’t long enough to make it look like a mistake on his end.

It was strange walking the streets of her home again. She had already gotten used to people staring at her, trying to place her face, or pointing out an advertisement as she walked by. The ad had made her an overnight celebrity, a constant reminder of what she had left behind in Milan. Whatever Marco’s original intentions were, the display was now only laced with regret.

She turned the corner toward Barneys and came face to face with Ravenna. She looked exquisite in painted on black pants, an olive button-up shirt, and black peep-toe heels. Her red hair was pulled off of one side of her face, and she managed to wear blood red lipstick perfectly.

Chyna knew that the picture wasn’t as good as her own. Ravenna was second best, a backup, and it showed. Probably not to most eyes, but Chyna knew. She had been there when this picture was taken in the middle of the summer at a mock studio outside of the city. Marco had been in a foul mood, yelling at everyone. He hadn’t liked a single picture that day. Guess he had changed his mind.

She knew what he was getting at. She was replaceable. He didn’t need her.

Even on his worst day when nothing was going right, he could capture something fitting enough to plaster all over New York City…without her.

She heard him loud and clear. Loud.

And. Clear.

Asshole.

Chyna passed the sign, ignoring the woman who commented on how pretty the model was, and walked down the street toward Madison Avenue. Tourists flitted around outside of Barneys. Some were walking purposefully with their cell phone plastered to their ear while others were moseying along, occasionally snapping photos. Why they were taking a picture of a department store was beyond her. Didn’t people have department stores at home?

Granted this was Barney’s, but still.

She pushed past a crowd of people debating whether or not to go inside and she walked through the doors toward the elevator. The elevator deposited her on the ninth floor, and she strolled into Fred’s for her afternoon luncheon.