Escaping Reality

minutes.”
    “I’ll walk you to your door.”
    “If you come to my apartment, we’ll get distracted.” For once, I get
    to speak the truth.
    He arches a brow. “Is that supposed to discourage me?”
    “Yes,” I replied tartly, and the urge to kiss him one more time before
    I deliver the goodbye is too intense to fight. I push to my toes and lean in to
    him, hands flattening on the hard wall of his chest, and press my lips to his.
    He is stiff, unyielding, and I am instantly uncomfortable, second-guessing
    my boldness. I begin to pull back when he drops my bags to the ground and
    pulls me close, his hand sliding up my back, his tongue licking into my
    mouth in one long, hot sweep that has me moaning into his mouth.
    “You’re no recluse,” I accuse when his lips leave mine, shocked at the
    scene we’ve certainly made, embarrassed to even look around and find out
    who is watching.
    “Or I just want to make sure you know how much I want you, no
    matter what the price.
    And you’re right. If I come with you to your apartment, we won’t
    leave anytime soon.” He sets me away from him, and to my horror grabs
    my bags from the ground and looks inside. His gaze lifts, brow arching.
    “Plasticware?”
    The warmth his declaration about wanting me had created turns
    cold. “I haven’t had time to unpack.”
    “So your things were delivered today?”
    “My things are just fine.”
    I reach for the bags and he shackles my wrist. “Amy—”
    A horn honks, saving me whatever command is certain to come out
    of his too-tempting mouth. “We’re making a scene. I’ll see you in a few
    minutes.”
    His jaw flexes, tension etched in his face. “I’ll be waiting.” He releases
    my bags and my arm and I waste no time darting away. I am so tired of
    running away.

Chapter Ten

    Twenty minutes later I’ve changed into a simple, versatile little black
    lace dress I scored for $29 on a bargain rack. With my heels on it’s a bit
    sexy, but I tell myself I’m dressing up to feel confident, not to impress Liam.
    I’m so good at lying, I almost convince myself it’s the truth.
    I check myself in the mirror and argue with myself about ending
    things with Liam. I begin with all the reasons I don’t have to say goodbye.
    I’ve dated other men. I had a dorm mate, albeit we didn’t bond, but we
    lived together. Liam can handle himself far better than anyone I have ever
    known. But he is also the only person I’ve ever known with the resources to
    dig into my past and get himself killed in the process. People have died. I
    am not hiding for no reason. He could die. I won’t let that happen.
    Resolve in place, I head for the elevator and ride to the bottom level.
    The doors ding open and I am startled to find a denim-clad Jared standing
    there. He grins at the sight of me, all sexy male charm and hotness.
    “Ditched the t-shirt, did you?”
    “I did,” I agree, finding myself smiling despite my nerves over Liam. I
    step out of the car and expect Jared to move aside to catch the door. He
    doesn’t and we are toe to toe. The sense of familiarity with this man is
    instant, and I freeze, unable to move away. I am terrified, and not of Jared.
    Terrified of this piercing black hole that I know too well will suck me into a
    place where everything and everyone is a potential threat. I swore I would
    never return to this place but I feel the fingers of the beast reaching for me,
    pulling me inside.
    “You’re supposed to take that out of the box.”
    I blink Jared back into focus and the very fact that I have to says a lot
    about my state of mind. “Box?”
    He glances down and I briefly follow his gaze to the iPhone box I
    wasn’t able to fit into my small purse. “Oh.” I lift it slightly. “This. I like the
    box. I’m a rebel like that.”
    He laughs. “A woman out to seduce me.”
    I snort, a ridiculous sound that makes my answer all the more
    meaningful. “I’m the last person to seduce anyone.”
    His light brown eyes fill with the amusement I intended to spark.
    “You had me at the t-shirt and high heels,” he teases.
    “You are never going to let me forget that, are you?”
    “Probably not.” He flicks a quick look up and down my body. “Does
    the dress mean your things arrived okay?”
    This is almost the same question Liam asked me earlier and my mood
    swings from comfortable in our neighborly banter to completely uneasy. I
    make a weak attempt at a smile.
    “All is well in Amy-land.”