Pride

She opened her mouth to tell him, “Yes, let’s go back to your room”-but couldn’t choke out the words.

“I’ve got to go back to my room and dry off, take a shower,” she said lamely. She gave him a long kiss, then extricated herself from his embrace.

“You can shower in my-”

“I’ll come over later, when I’m done,” she promised.

And she so wanted it to be the truth.

But she knew herself.

And so she knew better.

It was like a scene out of a movie, and it couldn’t have been more perfect. Adam had lit a fire in the fireplace, and the low flames popped and crackled, filling the room with a fresh, woodsy scent and a warm glow. Harper lay on the bed, her swollen knee elevated, sipping a steaming cup of coffee (with some Baileys poured in for good measure). And the piece de resistance: Adam, stripped down to his boxers, his tan, taut body lit by the glow of the fire, as if bathed in a golden aura. He was fiddling with the radio, searching for a suitably romantic station-but Harper, tired of waiting, waved him back into bed. A crackling Dixie Chicks song on the local country-western station would just have to do.

As Adam climbed onto the mattress next to her, Harper closed her eyes and was finally able to forget about her throbbing knee, Adam’s afternoon with Beth, the horror of the night before-it was all erased by the gentle pressure of his body against hers.

“I’ve been waiting all day for this.” Harper sighed as Adam kissed her, first on the lips, then dotting the skin of her exposed breastbone. “I’m just-ouch!”

“Sorry-your knee?” Adam pulled away hastily but, wincing, Harper rolled over and leaned back into him.

“Forget it. Just-” She kissed his bare chest, rubbing her hands up and down his biceps, his rippled stomach muscles. Everything about him was incredible. “Just relax.” She rolled over onto her back and he kissed her again, running his hands through her wild mess of hair. Every inch of her skin was tingling, alive at his touch. She could feel him trembling, and she smiled, knowing that, this time, she could be the teacher and he the student-that she was about to show him things he could never have imagined. His soft breath tickled the side of her neck and she giggled, then caught her breath as, ever so slightly, his lips played their way across her body.

She’d never felt this way, exhilarated, bright with anticipation-not since the first time. Maybe not even then. She’d done it all before, but with Adam, everything was new, everything was-

“Harper?”

“Oh, Adam,” she moaned. “You’re-”

“Harper?” He pulled away from her and sat up abruptly, his face tense and red. “I… can’t. I’m sorry, it’s-”

“Again?” she asked in disbelief, before she could stop the word from slipping out. She put a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off.

“I want to. I just…”

Harper came up behind him and put her arms around him, teasing her fingers through the soft blond hair on his chest.

“It’s okay,” she assured him. “It’s-this happens.” Did it? Certainly never to her. Not before. And not twice in a row.

“It’s not okay,” he exploded in frustration, pushing her away. He rose and began to pace around the room. He was so vibrant, glowing with anger and frustration-she wanted him even more. “Goddamnit! This is just so… humiliating.”

“Adam,” Harper began plaintively, unsure what to say. She got out of bed and went to him, grabbed him, forced him to stand still. “Adam, look at me.”

But he refused, and when she lightly grabbed his chin and tried to turn his face in her direction, he squirmed away. It was like talking to a petulant little boy who knew he was about to get in trouble and didn’t want to face up to what he’d done.

Or, in this case-hadn’t done.

“It’s not you,” he muttered, staring fixedly at the crackling fire.

Right. What else could it be? After last night with those losers from the basketball team… and then he’d spent all day with sweet, virginal Beth. Harper held her breath for a moment, trying to get her emotions under control. Adam was with her now-he wanted her. This was all just a fluke. Bad luck, bad timing. It had to be. And they’d get through it.

“Adam, do you want to try-”

“Maybe you should just go,” he interrupted her in a rough, husky voice. “It’s late, and-”

“Sure. Yeah.” Harper backed away from him and hastily began pulling on her clothes. She’d hoped they would at least sleep there together, curled up in each other’s arms. Awkward as it was, it was better than… nothing.

Don’t make a big deal out of it, she instructed herself, and maybe it doesn’t have to be a big deal.

“We have to get up early tomorrow, anyway, to drive back and”-she faked a yawn-“I’m really tired.” She slipped into her heavy coat and zipped it up. Even though she wouldn’t actually have to step outside to get back to her room, she was suddenly cold, and wanted something warm and heavy wrapped around her.

“Harper, I-” Adam paused, and finally turned to face her. Standing there in the middle of the room, still half naked, he looked so vulnerable, Harper just wanted to rush to him and assure him everything would be all right. And make him assure her that it didn’t mean anything, that he wanted to be with her, as much as ever.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said instead, affecting a cheerful voice.

“Tomorrow,” he agreed. He gave her a lame little wave and took a step toward her, then stopped. “Good night.”

Harper forced herself to smile, then limped out the door. None of it meant anything, she assured herself. Sex, no sex, whatever. Adam was falling in love with her, and it didn’t matter what his friends said, or how much his pretty princess ex-girlfriend wanted him back-Adam was hers, for good.

She wasn’t worried. Of course not. If there was one thing Harper was sure of, it was the power she had over men.

All men. Hadn’t she proven that by snagging Adam in the first place? So whatever was going on in Adam’s head, it was minor. It was temporary.

It had to be.

Miranda was already in bed and nearly asleep when she heard the door open and saw Harper’s shadowy figure tiptoe across the room.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you tonight,” Miranda said, flipping on the lamp by her bed.

Startled, Harper nearly tripped over herself.

“Let’s just say Adam and I wore each other out,” she said, giving Miranda a meaningful grin as she began changing into her pajamas.

Miranda laughed-there was nothing she loved more than Harper’s post-date epics, although since she’d started dating Adam, the juicy stories had been few and far between.

“So? Spill,” Miranda pressed. “Was it worth the wait?”

Harper blushed, and Miranda almost choked. She’d seen Harper’s face turn red after a few too many hours in the sun-or a few too many margaritas-but never out of embarrassment. And never about a guy.

“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell,” Harper protested, climbing into bed and tucking herself beneath the garish flowered comforter.

“And that applies to you how?” Miranda asked, ducking as Harper tossed a pillow at her head. “Come on, was it everything you expected?”

“And more,” Harper allowed, a secretive smile playing across her lips. “It is Adam, after all.”

“That’s all you’re going to tell me?” Miranda shrieked, throwing the pillow back at her best friend.

Harper just laughed. “Come on, Rand, I’m tired. Can we just say it was amazing and incredible, and leave it at that? Dirty details in the morning, I promise.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” Miranda agreed grudgingly. “It’s not like I’m living vicariously through you or anything.”

“Speaking of which,” Harper asked, turning to face Miranda and propping herself up on her elbow, “what did you do tonight? I figured you’d still be out partying.”