Page 184 of Bossy Romance

I turn around. “What are you talking about?”

He takes a step toward me and the hair on the back of my neck stands to attention.

“It felt so real,” he reasons.

Adam moves in close and my pulse beats double time.

“The way you touched me. The way you felt in my arms. But when I woke up, you were gone.”

My chest rises and falls with each desperate breath.

What should I say? Should I admit it?

Sweat breaks out on my forehead.

My stomach flutters. My heart stops.

I open my mouth and then I shut it because I don’t trust what will come out.

The hesitation is unlike me. I’ve never been the type of woman to obsess about my next move. I study my environment, make the best calculation I can and then throw the dice.

Life is simpler that way.

But all of a sudden, life is a giant, complicated web. A tangled mess that I can never unravel. Every step feels like I could potentially dance on top of a landmine.

“No,” I lie. “It wasn’t me.”

Adam stares me down until I grip the hem of my dress with trembling fingers.

Then, slowly, his lips arch up in a knowing smirk. “So it was you.”

Dammit.

My brain is sending out ‘run away’ signals that I think I should heed. Turning, I make a break for it. Unfortunately, my heels were not made for graveyard grass. My stiletto sinks right into the ground and nearly twists my ankle for a second time.

I flail, going down.

“Whoa.” Adam launches forward.

I grab onto his shoulders, digging my nails in. He catches me mid-fall, his body bent toward mine in a sort of tango dip. Our faces are close together. He’s right there, mere inches from my lips, breath skittering over my face, mouth open slightly.

My heart is beating fast from adrenaline and from being in Adam’s arms again. I want him to be mine so badly it hurts.

His chocolate-brown eyes are searing into me. I should push away but, this close to his handsome face, my mind goes blank.

“Are you okay?” Adam rumbles. I feel the vibration of his voice all the way down to my toes.

“Yes.” I pull my leg from the grass’s clutches and try to steady myself on my own. Adam’s arms hover around my waist, poised to catch me if I fall again.

I tip my chin down. “Thanks.”

When I try to step away, Adam catches my hand. His fingers close over mine, warm and strong.

“We need to talk.”

“About what?” I ask hoarsely.

At that moment, Kenya, Sunny, Dawn and Vanya approach Adam to offer their condolences. While the women occupy his attention, I quietly sneak away.

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