19. Anna

19

ANNA

W hen I finish my conversation with the horrible combative journalist from The Enquirer , I pad through the apartment to the kitchen as Pepper skitters after me. I could die a happy woman if I never had to speak to that man again. I peer up the corridor, but Adam’s bedroom door is shut. That interview was terribly timed and far too long: I hope he’s not annoyed with me. I turn the tap to put boiling water into a mug and stand at the counter staring as the pale color of the ginger infuses through the liquid. Images flash through my head: Adam’s face as he propped himself over me, screwed up as if he were in pain; his taut muscles under my hands; his cock pressing into me; how I arched up into him … A red-hot flush engulfs my body.

Mortification swamps me. I’ve struggled with sex for years, unable to wrestle my mind away from playing shots over and over in my head when I close my eyes. A fact Arty frequently reminded me of. But the ache when Adam pressed into me. I can still feel it now. It was minutes . Jesus. I dragged him into my crazy-ass life to the extent that he can no longer go home , and then I rubbed myself all over him in the gym.

The hot tea burns down my throat as Pepper chews her pink rabbit at my feet. I stare out of the window over the lights of the city. This apartment is so peaceful and quiet. Frowning, I move into the hallway, hand gripping my mug, and tilt my head.

“Adam?” I call.

Pepper has followed me into the hall. “Where’s Adam, Pepper?” I say, but she just cocks her head and wags her tail.

I pad up the corridor to his room and listen outside the door. Nothing. Not even shuffling steps.

I tap on the wood. “Adam?”

It’s like the silence of a crowd before you serve. I chew my lip as I stare down at Pepper, still wagging her tail next to me. She’s not jumping up, scrabbling at the door, is she?

“Adam?” I rap on the door again.

Turning the handle, I step inside. And my stomach drops: There’s no bag, nothing but a small imprint on the cover of the bed. When I peek into the bathroom, it’s empty.

He’s gone?

I tap my phone to wake it up and the message icon winks at me, so I click on it:

Hi, Anna, I’m so, so sorry about what happened. There’s no way I should have taken advantage of you like that. It’s been a long time for me, and I lost it a bit. I thought it might be best if I got out of your hair. I’ve gone to stay with Janus, so I’m safe from the press hordes. Love Adam

… followed by two heart emojis. I clutch my phone in my hand and stare unseeing at the trendy piece of art on the wall above the bed, with no idea of what it’s of. Doesn’t Adam remember me rubbing myself all over him like I was short of water and he was a long cool drink? I think I was the more desperate one in this scenario.

“Why did he leave, Pepper?”

She cocks her ears at me. I can’t imagine leaving this and seeing him tomorrow or the next day and saying … What? What would I say? Thanks fo r giving me the fastest orgasm I’ve ever had? What do I know about normal relationships, about how to interact with someone I like? Someone you just did that with, Anna … He didn’t take advantage at all! And I want to do it again. Perhaps he doesn’t? Although losing it a bit is … good, right?

Pepper whines when I stare down at her. Goddammit. My best friend is a dog that can’t give me any useful advice.

“Well, fuck it, I’ll just have to go and find out.”

Pepper barks at me like that’s totally the right decision. Perhaps I can use a one-sided conversation with a dog to justify anything.