Free Trashed by Jasinda Wilder

all I can see.
    “I’m sorry for freaking out on you, Adam. It really wasn’t your fault.”
    He shrugs. “Don’t be sorry. ”
    I want to tell him how good what he did made me feel, but I don’t know how. “And thank you for…” I wave my hand vaguely, hating the way I’m flushing. “This.”
    His gaze narrows and heats. “This what?”
    I try a different tack. “I had a really… really good time. Until I wigged out, that is. But dinner, and everything. Just…thank you.”
    A smile brightens his face, his eyes gleaming. “I really enjoyed everything, too, Des. So thank you .”  
    I finish my tea in two long swallows, burning my mouth a little and not caring. I have to get home. He’s too much. This is too much. I’m embarrassed by my freak-out, shaken by how intensely attracted to Adam I am, not just physically but to him, to the man, and I just don’t know what to think or feel or do.  
    I still can’t believe I almost let him get me naked. That can’t happen. He’d see things no one has ever seen except Ruthie, and I don’t know how he’d react.
    I take the linen bag containing my clothes into the bathroom and dress quickly, and when I emerge Adam has a pair of cross trainers on and his room key in his hands. We walk to the elevator in silence. We ride down to the parlor level together in silence, and he walks me out to the covered driveway, not holding my hand and not speaking.  
    A closed carriage waits, two tall black horses stomping and swishing their tails and shaking their heads. The driver is hunched over, wearing a slicker and gloves and looking miserable. A doorman opens the carriage door, and Adam hands me up.  
    “Goodnight, Des,” he says.  
    “Goodnight, Adam.”  
    A million things lie between us, all unspoken.  
    Rain still falls in wild, windblown curtains, and thunder still crashes and lightning still splits the sky. I’d forgotten, for a while, that it was storming.  
    Adam hands a folded bill to the driver, tells him my destination, and then closes the door, shoving his hands in his pockets and watching as the carriage jerks into motion. I watch him until he’s out of sight.
    When I finally get home, Ruth is on her bed reading.  
    She frowns at me over the top of her book. “I thought you were meeting Jimmy and me for drinks?”
    “I was going to,” I start, and then realize I have no clue how to explain what just happened, to myself, let alone to my friend. “Something came up.”
    Ruth knows me well enough to know when I’m evading, when I don’t want to talk about something. “Okay,” she shrugs, and then looks at me more closely. “Are you okay? You look like you were crying.”
    I owe her something, at least. “I don’t even know where to start, Ruthie. I just don’t. I’m okay, though. I just…I need some sleep.”
    She stares at me, one pierced eyebrow arched in suspicion. And then she goes back to reading. “Fine. But if you ever want to talk, you know you can tell me anything.”
    “I know.” I lean over and hug her, but quickly, so she doesn’t smell Adam on me. “Thanks, Ruthie.”
    Sleep is a long time coming. I can’t stop thinking of Adam, of what he made me feel. I realize he knew exactly how to handle my panic attack, and somehow I’m not surprised. He just took care of me, and he didn’t ask any questions.
    And when I finally fall asleep, I dream of his hands and his mouth and his eyes, and his words. I dream of his big warm hard body beneath mine, just holding me, and I dream of listening to his heartbeat.

Chapter 5

    It’s late afternoon, the day of the fundraiser dinner. I’ve managed to spend the day in my room, answering emails and working on my script and studiously not thinking about Des. Eventually, I’m compelled by my restless nature to head downstairs for lunch. After eating, I find Gareth on one of the couches in the parlor, sipping tea and staring at his cell phone, a sour look on his face.
    “Bad news,