He didn’t give her a chance. “I want more than a bone picked clean by your guilt.”
Was he right? Was guilt her only driver? Or was it fear that he’d leave her if she didn’t give him something? No. That wasn’t true. “I want to room with you, Witt. Honest, I do.” She’d only had those one or two doubts about it.
He laughed, shook his head, then stared her down. “Share a room? I want to share your bed, our bodies, love. Not be your roommate for five days.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” She wanted to give him what he needed, wanted to put aside her fears. For him. She’d ended up saying the wrong thing. Again. “I really—”
He shut her up with his mouth on hers. Then he murmured, “One of these days, sweetheart, you’ll be ready and we’ll both know there’s no one standing between us.
So that was it. Cameron. From the moment she’d called Witt two days ago and asked for his help, everything they’d said to each other had been about Cameron in one way or another. Cameron had even intruded on those few exquisite moments on the plane.
“It won’t always be like this, I swear it.” She wouldn’t think about exactly how she’d keep that promise, but her eyes ached and her heart suddenly beat too quickly in her chest.
His big hand cupping her jaw, Witt stroked her lower lip. “Wouldn’t be hanging around if I didn’t believe that was true.” He grabbed her hand. “Now come on. Wanna see your room so I can imagine you lying in your bed while I’m whacking off tonight.”
She slugged his arm. “I can’t believe you said that.” But the idea titillated enough to turn her gooey on the inside.
*
Max avoided slamming the door to room two-eighteen—barely. She made it down the short hallway next to the bathroom into the main room, to the connecting door. The door to Witt’s room. Right next to her own. All she had to do was knock... Maybe that’s what he was hoping for, some sort of power play on his part. The thought had ticked her off as soon as she saw that door, after which she’d promptly tossed Witt out of her room.
Sliding down the wall next to that door, she landed on her rear end with a thump. The room smelled of Pinesol when she’d been expecting the scent of stinky socks, old cigarettes, or stale male sweat. Pleasant, clean. She closed her eyes and tried not to hear the sound of Witt’s movements through the crack of the door.
The truth was, Witt didn’t make power plays. She did. But boy, did that door between them bring home what she was missing.
Cameron’s laughter floated around the room. “Reverse psychology and you fell for it. The man’s going to make you beg.”
“It’ll be a cold day in hell before I beg for anything.” A cold day in hell was right around the corner. She reached up to unlock her side, in case Witt tried it.
Cameron laughed again, harder, making the walls vibrate, the thin beige curtains ripple, and the edge of the burnt orange bedspread flutter. The room stank of his peppermints.
“And you were the one who told him that I liked to be on top, weren’t you?” If she couldn’t yell at Witt, at least she could take her frustration out on Cameron.
“I didn’t have to tell him. He’s got you pegged.”
Her fingers curled into the shaggy orange carpet which had probably been installed when Cameron lived in Lines. At least it felt clean to the touch. “I don’t have to be on top.”
Cameron snorted next to her ear. Over that, she heard the sound of Witt’s TV switching on.
“Right. Control is your middle name, Max. On top, in control, at all times.” He’d once told her she didn’t know how to make love either. “You have sex, you don’t make love.”
Hearing it again still had the power to hurt. “You never complained when you were alive.”
“I thought I could change you.”
“That’s a female line.” She masked the pain with a snide tone.
“Do you want him to know?” Cameron whispered.
“Know what?” Again, she knew what, had asked the question to stall for time, time to think of a good cutting comeback.
“Being on top isn’t merely a state of mind for you, it’s a way of life you’re not willing to change. Not for me. Not for him.”
She pursed her lips militantly, especially because he’d used Witt’s words. “I have changed. I apologized to him. I told him I was wrong. I made love with him.”
Cameron’s bark of laughter hurt. Not everything with Witt had been a disaster. But then why did he refuse to share her room? Because once again she fell short of the mark.
She sagged against the wall. “I don’t want to argue.”
“Because you know you can’t win?”
“Because I know you’re right.”