"To hell." She stands suddenly, her hands darting to her hips. "Do you remember Gretel Gallant?"
"Who?" I run through names in my mind, trying to place that one.
"Gretel Gallant," she repeats slowly.
It's familiar but I can't place it. Guessing would only insult Adley more. Apparently, this Gretel woman is someone from my past. "Who is she?"
"A woman you fucked in a photo booth in a restaurant in Times Square."
I drop my gaze to my lap. Fuck my fucking past.
"What about Christy Marcus?"
I close my eyes before I shake my head.
"You fingered her to orgasm on a subway train before you took her to your place. I got to hear all about that while I was cleaning vomit off her dog early one morning last year."
My head pops up. "How the fuck did my name come up during that?"
"You did it the night before she came into the clinic." She rolls her eyes. "How many black-haired, big-dicked men named Crew do you think finger women on the D-train on a nightly basis?"
How many women tell a veterinary assistant about their sex life?
"I can't erase my past." I look up at her face. There's a level of emotion in her eyes I've never seen before. "Don't punish me for that."
"I'm not punishing you." She moves to sit next to me, her outer thigh brushing mine. "I didn't bring up those women to throw them in your face."
"Why bring them up at all?" Uneasy, I draw in a deep breath. I don't know why I'm so surprised that she's heard about my encounters with other women. I've fucked women who sought me out based on what a friend told them about me. I didn't care what brought them to me. All I cared about was getting off.
Her hand reaches for mine and I greedily welcome the touch. I cup both my hands around hers as I rest them on my thigh.
"I want you to remember my name." Her voice is even and steady; a direct contradiction to the emotion in her eyes. They're filled with a mixture of confusion and despair. "A year from now, or five or ten, I want to be able to call you up and ask you to hang out. If we sleep together, I'm going to lose that. I don't know if either of us can handle life without the other anymore."
Fuck her and her common sense.
She's right, except she's not considering one possibility.
"Ad." I turn to the side so I can face her directly. I could drown in this woman. I want to. "It's not just about the fuck for me. There's more."
Her brows rise as she leans forward a touch. "More?"
"Yes," I say with a crack in my voice. I don't do this. I don't sit and discuss my feelings with anyone. I keep it all in, driving through my day with the ruthless force of a bull on a mission to crush everything in its path. Numb is how I want to feel twenty-four, seven. It's how I've always felt yet right n
ow I want to tell her I'm feeling things I can't comprehend. They scare the hell out of me and make me feel safe at the same time.
"You're going to say that you'd never hurt me." She leans her head against my shoulder. "I know you wouldn't, Crew. You're one of the only people in my life that I know will protect me at all costs. That's another reason why we can't sleep together. I need you. I'm always going to need you."
My chest tightens with those words. They're brutally honest and a plea for me to back the fuck off so I can be the man she needs me to be.
Sacrifice isn't something I know, but I'll learn for her. I'll do it because losing her is a worse fate than never fucking her.
I need to stop tearing her up like this. I'll find a way to manage the need.
I inhale sharply. "You ready to check out the ocean, Ad?"
Her delicate hand flies to my chin, tilting it so I'm looking into her blue eyes. "We're good, right? You and I, we're okay?"
"We're good." I slide her hand to my lips and kiss her palm lightly, closing my eyes to chase away the thought that I'm never going to have more. Somehow, I have to accept that being this woman's friend is enough.