Page 33 of Reckless Games

“Holidays seem to be when people would rather escape.”

“Why?”

“You’re here, aren’t you? Why don’t you tell me.”

I chew the inside of my cheek, suddenly nervous about where this is going. I’ve managed to not think about Josh much since arriving, but Adam’s question has my insecurities flooding back.

Adam leans forward, the water in the tub moving in waves with him as he reaches out a hand and rakes my wet hair off my shoulder. “What just went through that beautiful mind?”

“It’s just, my ex.”

His hand pauses on my shoulder, and he pulls his arm back. “Elaborate.”

“We broke up a year ago this Christmas. He cheated on me with one of my friends. It’s hard enough still seeing him in town. But to be alone at Christmas, knowing he’s with her…” I’m not sure what compels me to answer Adam honestly because there’s no way he wants to hear about my ex, but it spills out.

Adam’s jaw is tightly clenched as his eyes watch me, and I blink back the burning behind mine.

“It doesn’t matter. He’s a jerk.” If only breakups were that simple, and my statement could be true.

If only I wasn’t still cut open by a man I spent four years with. Who threw me away like garbage after all we’d been through.

“I have no doubt he’s worse things than that.” Adam brushes the point of my knee peeking out of the water from my legs being bent and my thighs folded to my chest.

I nod, swallowing at the lump in my throat.

“There’s more you’re not saying.” Adam reads me like I’m exposed completely.

I pull my knees tighter to my chest, but it does nothing to free me from my thoughts. “There is.”

“You can tell me.”

“I know.” I just don’t know how to say some things out loud. Things even Ivy doesn’t know. “At one point I thought we’d get married. When you’re with someone for a certain amount of time, it’s just expected of you. But I didn’t know if that’s what I wanted. And when he found out I didn’t want kids…”

I shake my head, remembering the fight a little too clearly.

“He just assumed I was broken. Women should want to give their man certain things, and I didn’t. So he found someone who would.”

“His words?” Adam asks, venom lacing his tone.

“More or less.”

Adam watches me, and as much as I want to look away in embarrassment from everything I just told him, I can’t break his stare. No judgment, just understanding, wherever it comes from.

“It’s okay to not want certain things,” he says after a long moment.

“Not everyone feels that way.”

Adam shakes his head. “Anyone who cares about you should accept you as you are, for exactly what you’re willing to offer. Nothing more or less. We all have our limits. You just need someone willing to respect them.”

Limits, when all we’ve been doing this week is testing mine. But with Adam, I don’t feel the same boundaries I have in past relationships. He offers me the freedom to explore exactly what I’m comfortable with, knowing where and when to draw the line.

“What’s your limit?” I ask.

Adam leans back against the other side of the tub and drags his hands down his face. “I don’t know anymore.”

When he looks back at me, I’m not sure why there’s a broken shard in his stare, but the gray glass cracks somewhere deep inside.

The trouble with limits is we all have them, and we all push them. But sometimes, they push back.

---