I drove home in a haze with my fingers pressed to my swollen lips, replaying every second of the kiss that scorched me. It was late, going on ten o'clock. Traffic was light but yet, the car that pulled behind me when I left Amanda's house remained in my rearview mirror for miles. I tried letting him pass, but he wouldn't. I pulled into a convenience store parking lot. So did he.

I whipped out my cell phone and called Maddie.

"Mom, are you home?"

"No, Eden. I texted you hours ago. Didn't you get it? I have that benefit this evening. I'm in Manhattan."

Oh.

"Eden? What's wrong? Where are you?"

"I'm... I'm at a 7-11. Someone's following me."

"Go to a friend's house."

What friends? I put my car in gear and drove back to Amanda's place, my hands shaking on the wheel. I skidded to a stop in the driveway right behind Amanda's minivan and ran to the front door. Before I could ring the bell, the door was whipped open and Adam, looking wild in a pair of sweat pants, shouted at me. "Jesus Christ, Eden, what the hell are you doing?"

"Car. Car." I stammered, pointing to the black Honda idling down the street. "Following me. I can't... can't... don't want to go home." I shook my head. "Maddie's not there. I'm alone.""

Adam threw out his arm, hauled me inside and lurched out the front door without his crutches. Amanda and Zach came running down the stairs.

"Eden, what it is? What's wrong?"

My knees shook and I slumped to the first step. All I could do was point outside. The peal of tires shattered the night time quiet. Zach ran down the walk in his bare feet. Amanda tugged my hand, drew me into the family room where I fell onto the sofa.

I leaped up when Adam and Zach returned, Zach's arm supporting Adam. Adam held my bag and keys. "I got a partial plate number." Adam said, limping to the table beside the sofa. He dropped my stuff on a chair, picked up a pen and scribbled something on the cover of a People magazine. "But I didn't get a good look at the driver. It was too dark. Any idea who it was?"

"Adam," Amanda said, jerking her head toward me, the quivering mass of fright on the sofa.

With a muttered curse, he sat beside me and took my hand. "Jesus, your hands are like blocks of ice."

Amanda leaped up, opened a door in the shelf unit and took out a bottle of liquor. She poured a glass and brought it to me. "Here. Sip. It's brandy."

I couldn't hold the glass steady, so Adam did. The amber liquid blazed a trail down my gut and made me cough. "Easy, baby." I sipped again, welcoming the warmth that spread out from my center to my extremities. He put the glass on the table. "Now tell us what happened."

I sat with my hands engulfed in his and thought I'd never be able to talk. "I left and that car left with me he was out there the whole time and followed me right on my bumper and I tried to let him pass but he wouldn't and then I stopped at a convenience store to call Maddie but she's in Manhattan and I couldn't go home alone because it might have been him and I couldn't go to Belinda's because she hates me and I didn't know what to do so I came back here but he wouldn't stop he just followed me the whole way back here." I gasped. I knew I wasn’t making any sense but I couldn’t control it.

"Okay. Okay, honey, you're safe." Amanda stroked my hair. "You'll stay here tonight. Zach?" Zach nodded and went upstairs. "Mom has the spare room so I'm afraid all I can offer you is the sofa, but it's safe."

"No." Adam said. "You'll stay in my room. I'll take the sofa." He picked up the cordless phone from the side table, his other hand still holding mine.

I shook my head but he squeezed my hand. "Eden, don't argue. Your arms and shoulders have got to be screaming by now."

"But your leg-"

"Is fine. I nap out here all the time."

Zach returned with a pillow and bedding. "I think we should call the police."

"Already on it." Adam pressed the phone to his ear.

Zach sat on the coffee table in front of me, took my hands while Adam spoke on the phone. "Eden, do you have any idea who this guy is or what he wants?"

Jesus. He wants me. The thought grew tentacles that wrapped around every cell in my body and squeezed.

"Eden. Eden!" Amanda's voice, firm and insistent, broke through my panic. "Look at me."

I pinned my eyes to hers, so much like Adam's, it hurt. "You're safe here. Breathe."

Deep cleansing breaths restored my ability to think. "In my bag." I murmured and reached for the portfolio Maddie had tucked into my backpack. I had a full size spread at home. This one was actually of proofs, not head shots. Maddie liked the smaller size. Said it let her be prepared for anything. I don't know why the hell I still carried it. 

I flipped through the pages until I came to the calendar shots.

I hated these pictures. I looked like a stripper after a wild bachelor party. "These were shot for a tool company calendar. Maddie – that's my mother - she accepted the gig because she thought the calendar would dispel rumors that I wasn't versatile and had only one look."

Zach's eyebrows knitted together as he flipped through the pictures. I squirmed under Amanda's gentle strokes, hoping they weren't appalled.

"The calendar was released and not two weeks later, I started getting fan mail on a whole new level. It used to be sweet stuff like "I want to be a model, too!" And like overnight, it went to gross things like hotel room keys, naked pictures of men, and stuff. I thought...... well, I figured it would all stop after my accident. I can't do that work anymore. But it didn't stop, instead it got worse. This guy got my cell phone number, he knows my schedule and now he's following me."

"But who is he?" Zach pressed.

The guy in the burn center today... Mark. "Today, when I had therapy, there was a guy spying on me while I undressed."

"In Ranger's center?" Adam's lips thinned. "What's his name?""

"Yeah. Ranger took care of it."

"Eden." Amanda said softly, still studying my photo book. "You're a beautiful girl."

I shifted, smiled tightly.

"But as I look at these pictures – especially these," she indicated the calendar proofs. "I can't help thinking I'd never let Cassie dress like this, pose like this. I can actually see your discomfort. So why did you do it?"

Amanda's typical bluntness made me wince. I didn't answer. I had no answer, even when Belinda asked the same question. My face heated and I couldn't meet her eyes. I grabbed the book, stuffed it back in my bag and swung it over my shoulder, ignoring the lash of pain it caused. I shoved the stack of magazines aside, looking for the keys I saw Adam put on this table.

"I'm sorry I bothered you. Thank you for-" I couldn't find the words and just waved my hand. "Thank you."

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Adam yelled.

"Home. There's an alarm system. It'll be fine." I found my keys, strode to the front door.

Amanda hurried after me. "No, Eden, I didn't mean-"

"I know what you meant. It's my fault. Of course it is. I never wanted to do that job and I did and now I'm getting what I deserve. I get it."

"Eden, no. Please stay. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." Amanda pressed her hand to the door.

I spun around and stared at her. "Yes. You did. You're right. Thank you for helping me."

"Amanda, stop." Zach pulled her away from the door.

"But-"

"I know. Just stop." I saw the apology in his eyes but I couldn't stay here. I looked past him and Adam was nowhere to be seen. This didn't surprise me. I pulled the door open. "Good night. I think, under the circumstances, it's best if I don't continue working for you."

I stepped on to the porch before Amanda could reply. I ran to my car, the bag bouncing on my shoulder sending little jolts of pain down my arm. I glanced up and down the dark street but saw no sign of the Honda that had followed me. As soon as I was behind the wheel, I locked the doors and started the car. When the headlights illuminated the front of Amanda's house, my mouth fell open. Adam limped from the porch steps to the driveway and then to the passenger seat of my car.

He tapped on the window and pointed at the door lock. I hit the power unlock and he laid his crutches across my backseat, along with a duffel bag before working his way slowly into the passenger seat.

"Okay. Let's go."

My brain wouldn't work. Did he want a ride somewhere? "Go where?"

"Your house. I'm staying with you."

"Adam. You don't have-"

"Look, Princess. I'm tired. I'm hurting. And I'm pissed off that my mother's here. You don't want to be alone and I need to be out of here. It's a win-win situation. So shut up and drive."

I stared, agape, battling the urge to punch him with the need to hug him. After a minute or two, I put the car in gear and drove home. My heart felt like it was jammed in my throat, but it often did when I was near Adam... Adam, who didn't want me. I blew out a gusty breath.

"Eden. Relax. Nobody's following us now."

Since I'd checked my rearview mirror two or three dozen times already, I knew that. "Yeah."

"So why are you clutching the steering wheel like it's a naked Brad Pitt?"

I snorted. "Not really a Brad fan."

"Poor Brad. Okay, what about the last lipstick at the cosmetic counter?"

I pressed my lips together. Adam hadn't noticed I don't wear make-up when I'm not working.

"Jeez, tough room. Okay, what would you clutch for dear life?" Adam's grin flashed in the dashboard light.

You. "Um. I don't know. Belinda, I guess."

"Right. The friend you pulled out of the fire."

I braked for a red light. Damn good thing I did. Adam's hand took mine off the wheel, held it. "You can hold onto me for a while, okay?"

Oh, God. "Okay."

"The light's green."

Was it? "Oh. Right." I drove with one hand, my skin sizzling where Adam touched it. I didn't let go until we reached my house.

Adam whistled. "Wow. Nice place."

I shrugged. "It has to be. Maddie entertains here." I practically ran up the walk to the front door while Adam hobbled on his crutches behind me. "God, I'm sorry." I rushed back to help him with the duffel bag but he waved me off. As soon as we were through the door, I double-locked it and armed the security system. I stood in the foyer, my arms wrapped around my middle.

"Eden. You're safe. You need to relax."

"I don't want to do that kind of work anymore." I blurted.

Adam sighed and ran his hands up and down my arms. "Don't let Amanda mess you up. She opens her mouth before she thinks. She thinks you're really great and I guarantee she's crying on Zach''s shoulder right now because she knows she upset you."

She did upset me. "She was right. It was stupid to pose for that calendar and I don't want to do it anymore."

"Come on, princess, don't say that. You know you're still gorgeous and you're not done healing yet. What about plastic surgery?"

I pulled back and stared. Plastic surgery? That's what Maddie wanted, not me. "No!" I took another step back. "I don't want surgery. I don't want to model. I never did. I hate it, Adam. I hate strangers assessing my worth based on how far apart my eyes are. I hate counting how many peas I can eat." I pulled my cell phone from my pocket. "I hate how total strangers can find me and track me and follow me. It's not who I am, Adam!" I hurled the phone at the front door where it shattered into a dozen tiny technology crumbs. I stared at them, waiting for them to reassemble themselves like a hand-held Terminator, battling the tears waiting behind my eyes.

I would not cry.

I'd done too much of that and it achieved – well, it achieved the wrinkles and blotchy complexion Maddie always predicted.

"Who are you, Eden?" His voice was soft and I don't know why, but that surprised me. I thought he'd scoff, tell me I was being ridiculous. But I couldn't answer his question. My hands shook and my face heated, like I just got called on in class though I hadn't raised my hand.

Who am I? "I don't know." I hid my face.

"You'll figure it out. You're the smartest girl I know."

My head shot up but damn it, there was no smirk. I was ready for the smirk. I wasn't ready for his gentle smile. At that, I did cry.

His arms came around me. I cried on his shoulder until a loud clatter jolted me. His crutches. "You're exhausted. Come on. Show me your room." He picked up his crutches. I grabbed his duffel bag.

"Upstairs." I left the cell phone crumbs on the ceramic tile and headed up. Adam shifted both crutches to one hand and limped up the stairs behind me, right foot, together, right foot, together. At the top landing, his face showed the strain. And then, I was abruptly aware of my own pain.

I opened the first door at the top of the stairs, flipped on a light, stepped inside. My room faced the side of the house and shared a bathroom with the next bedroom. I'd show Adam to that room. Maddie's room faced the fear of the house.

"Nice." Adam's gaze took in the large bed I had covered in a dozen pillows of assorted colors and shapes. He lurched inside, ran his hand over the gleaming wood of my dresser. I loved my room. It wasn't white or pink or frilly. It was... comfortable. Soft bedding, natural woods. I had a pile of books on the table next to my bed. On the wall opposite my dresser, I had a desk. I suffered through a brief but acute twist of my heart when my eyes found the picture of Belinda, Ashley, and me tacked to the board over the desk. First day of senior year. We'd been so excited and full of ourselves. Hard to believe that was only seven months ago.

"Um... I thought you could sleep in here." I showed him the pass-through bathroom and the bedroom on the other side of it. Adam swung through, took a peek. I opened the medicine chest, tapped out a few ibuprofen tablets.

"It's fine. Don't worry about me. You should get ready for bed. If you want, I'll help you with the pressure bandages."

At the mention of the word bed, I swayed on my feet, suddenly aware of just how exhausted I was. "I think I want to leave them off. Just for tonight. I hurt everywhere."

Adam nodded. "Turn around."

I waited a moment and then did as he said. His hands took the hem of my shirt, slowly lifted it. I raised my arms up as high as I could, then ducked my head down so he could pull the shirt off. He started with my left arm, slowly working the bandage free. My heart beat a little faster. Then he switched to the right, his feather-light touch on my bare skin making my blood rush. There was only one left – the bandage around my upper body. I felt him step closer to me, could feel the heat from his body as he unfastened it. Air whooshed from my lungs – whether it was from the joy of being free of that hideous gauze or from the tingle his hands raised on every inch of skin they touched – I couldn't say.

Both, I decided.

Time stopped while we stood with my back to his front. His fingers danced over my scars and I didn't feel shame. I thought I would. I sucked in a breath when his hands curved around my waist and his lips brushed a spot – the spot – that had always caused me the most pain. How? How did he know? I gasped, understanding we were connected by our injuries. He knew. Of course, he knew.

"Eden," he murmured and kissed another scar. "Tell me to stop."

Stop? No. I don't want that. Why would I want that? Intoxicated, I stepped backwards, wanting him closer and closer still. His fingers curled into my hips, pulling me against him. I felt every inch of him and my knees almost buckled from the pleasure. I twisted myself around, needing to see him, to touch him, to kiss him. He moaned when I tangled my hand in his hair and fused my mouth to his.

"Eden," he said again. "We're both tired. We should wait."

I was stuck, held captive by his eyes. They were always intense; when he pushed through his pain, when he shouted at his family, or when he apologized to me for all his insults. But this was beyond intensity. His desire, his want, his need – it burned in his eyes like a fire. Knowing I did that made me smile and I wondered if my own eyes burned the same way. His breath came in hard pants and his hands wouldn't let go of me.

We would wait. It was what he wanted. And right now, he wanted me to give him that right.

I stepped off my tip-toes and moved my hands to his chest and pushed gently. His hands fell and the fire went out. With enormous effort, I walked away, pulled the pillows from my bed and turned down the sheets.

"Adam."

"Yeah?" He stopped at the door to the bath.

"Stay with me? We don't have to do anything tonight. Just sleep." I slipped between the sheets and waited for some wise-ass comment but it never came. He just looked at me with wide eyes and dropped jaw. "Please.""

His jaw clenched while he audibly swallowed, but he lurched closer, propped the crutches against my dresser and peeled off his shirt. My mouth went dry at the sight of all that muscle, all those lines and curves, the light dusting of hair that darkened as it disappeared under his waist band. He held up the sheets and settled under them. "C'mere," he whispered, pulling me against his body.

How would I sleep? How would my pulse ever stop racing with Adam's arm wrapped around me, his breath fanning my scarred and aching shoulder? It shouldn't have been possible but it was. Within minutes, I fell into a deep and dreamless sleep and never budged from my curled position until morning.

I woke with a start, sensing Adam's presence. I never heard Maddie come in last night; did she come home? Wonder what she made of the cell phone murder scene I'd left in the foyer. I shifted – happy my arms and shoulders felt good – and watched Adam sleep. He lay on his back, one arm flung over his head, the other outstretched at his side. The covers were twisted around his legs and his bandaged leg rested on one of my pillows. God, he must have been in so much pain last night. His chest was still bare and as beautiful as that sight was, it was his face that captured my focus. Covered in stubble, his mouth slack, his eyes closed, it hit me that I'd never seen Adam relaxed. He was coiled with so much tension when he was awake, it practically oozed out of his pores. His closed eyes hid the intensity which I've come to associate with Adam, making him look young. Sweet.

I almost snorted when I imagined what Adam would say if I admitted he looked sweet.

I raised a hand, gently trailed a finger along that sharp jaw line, enjoying the prickly texture, when he jerked and caught my finger in his mouth, biting softly.

I squealed and he grinned. "I didn't know you were awake."

"I wasn't. Not until you touched me." His voice was deep and scratchy. His gaze held mine and I heated up. Yeah. Intensity.

"You always wake up so fast?"

"It's an Army thing." He continued to stare and I felt my face flushing.

"I'd better get ready for school." I flung aside the covers and he caught them, kept them pinned over his body. I figured I knew why and tried not to embarrass him. When I sat up, he grabbed my hand, tugged me back down, and threw the blankets over both of us.

"Uh uh."

"Uh uh?"

"That's what I said. Uh uh. No school today. You're cutting class. We're going to the police precinct and then, out for a new cell phone."

Hmm. Bossy. It was the twenty-first century; didn't he know women had equal rights now? His arm snaked around me, drew me closer, and he nuzzled against my cheek with that scruffy beard. No, it was wrong to let Bossy Adam get away with this. It was wrong, wrong! to be so excited.

Then he pulled away, looked at me closely, and frowned.

"Your face is all red and your eyes are puffed up."

The haze of desire faded and I lowered my eyes until his hand under my chin forced me to look up.

"Why do you still look so fucking beautiful?"

His mouth was on mine and I stopped trying to think. I forgot my eyes were puffy and my face was red. I forgot I had a stalker. I forgot it was a school day. I even forgot I had morning breath. Seconds away from a total mental shut-down, Adam cursed and shoved out of my bed, limping to the bathroom, minus his crutches. I lay with my hands pressed to my chest, cursing my weakness. I'd fallen to pieces and then invited Adam –– the same guy who told me he wasn't interested in me – into my bed.

Shameless or desperate? I groaned and hid my face behind my hands. I left the bed, collected fresh clothes and headed for the main bathroom down the hall. I needed to think and I did my best thinking in the shower, under the relaxing stream of hot water. I let the water beat on my shoulders, stretched my arms up and shampooed my hair. By the time I got back to my room, I'd made a decision.

Adam was dressed, his face covered with toilet paper squares, leaning out my open window, smoking a cigarette.

"What's this?" I frowned.

"Uh, breakfast." He blew out a stream of smoke.

"No, your face." I waved a hand.

He grinned. "Your little pink razor is wimpy."

I lifted a brow. "Next time we have a slumber party, I'll run out and buy macho razors."

Adam's eyes did that thing were they look at me and sear my skin. "Next time?"

Right. That decision. "Um. Adam." I took a step further into the room. "About last night. I'm sorry."

"For?"

"For everything. Falling to pieces, making you sleep in my bed, wimping out." I rolled my eyes.

He stuck the cigarette in his mouth and leaned on my furniture to limp over to me, clasping my shoulders. "Eden, you were scared. I get it. Stop obsessing." He moved back into the bathroom, tossed the butt into the toilet and flushed. "Are you ready to go yet?"

That wasn't what I meant. "No. Um. I didn't mean being scared. I meant I was sorry for letting it make me so emotional. I know you're not..." Where is a lightning bolt when you really need one? "You said you're not into me and I get that. I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry if I came on too strong."

I spoke to the leaf design in my carpet and jolted when Adam's bare feet moved into my field of vision.

"I hurt your feelings - again," he murmured. "I was trying to protect them – protect you." He sat at the foot of my bed, stared at his hands. "Princess, I like you a lot. You're a wise-ass like me, you're loyal and you're drop-dead gorgeous. But you keep looking at me with little hearts in your eyes and I don't do hearts. I like no-strings-attached girls."

Pain crushed the heart in my chest and I tried not to wince. "Yeah. It's okay. I get it. Like I said. I'm sorry for getting all clingy."

"Eden." His hand touched mine and damn it, my heart burst through that weight. "Look. All I care about, all I can think about is getting back to my unit. I'm home on an extended leave while they conduct their investigation into my buddy's death."

I lifted my head, stared hard. "I thought you were here because of your burn."

He shook his head. "No. Could have gone to any VA hospital for that. I came home because they think – there's been talk that I'm responsible for what happened. They're investigating."

I considered that. I knew little about military process but this sounded almost like an indictment before a grand jury. "You mean court-martial?"

He rocked his head from side to side. "I hope not. This is the pre-court-martial investigation."

But, but that's a criminal proceeding. And if they find sufficient evidence in this investigation, it could go to court-martial. "You need a lawyer. Do you have a lawyer? I know a lawyer." Where was my phone? I had my lawyer's number in my phone. Which was in pieces a floor below us.

He waved me off. "They assigned someone."

I waited a beat. Then two. "Well, what's he think?"

Adam watched me and then gave a humorless laugh. "That there's going to be a court-martial."

I blinked. "No. No. That' s.... that's not right. It was a bomb, a roadside bomb. How could you be held responsible? It nearly took your leg off."

Adam dropped his gaze, raked the hair from his face. "That's the point. It only got my leg because a full-grown man stood between the source and me and died for it. They want to know why I was behind Private Tavarez. They say I screwed up, that I got him killed."

Even without seeing his eyes, I knew they blazed with indignation at the suggestion he'd behaved any way less than honorably. I understood that indignation; I lived through all sorts of name-calling and accusations. "Adam. What happens if they say you're guilty?""

His hands twitched. "I'm not." I squeezed one of his hands.

"But what if they say you are? What happens then?"

He let out a long noisy sigh. "It depends on the charges. Best case – I lose a pay grade. Worst case? Prison."

I-I-no. When my heart dropped into my feet, I decided I couldn't have heard that correctly. "What?"

He flashed one of his patented sarcastic smirks. "This ain't reality TV, Princess. They're not gonna just vote me off the island."

"That's... Oh, God, Adam."

"Yeah. I know." He stared at our hands, still linked. "The lawyer doesn't think it'll go that far but somewhere in the middle. I can deal with any of it except the discharge. If they kick me out...fuck, Eden, I don't know what I'll do."

"Adam, you're young. You can go to school and start over."

He dropped my hand. "Yeah. Sure. No problem. Just start over. This the Army, Eden, not some swimsuit calendar photo session I didn't want to do in the first place. It's my whole life. Do you not get that?" Bitterness dripped from his voice.

I winced. Yeah. Yeah, I got it, but he wasn't done.

"I'm a soldier, Eden. That's not some job I stuff in a drawer at the end of a work day. It's who I am. It's all I ever wanted and ever will want. If they-" He paused, swallowed hard. When he spoke again, his voice rasped. "If they kick me out, it's over for me."

His eyes went flat and my heart clenched. "No. No! You can't. I won't let you."

"You don't get a vote."

"Adam, please-"

"Stop!" He shouted. His hands flew up and then down in a violent wave. "Let's just forget this, okay? We'll go to the precinct, report the psycho stalker guy and then you can drop me back at my sister's place. We'll forget all this other shit."

"I won't forget."

He glared. "It's my shit, Eden. I'll handle it on my own." 

I nodded. "You will. It's what you do. I'm just saying this time, you have another option."

"You."

"Me."

He didn't say anything. He didn't do anything.

Not even a sarcastic smirk.

"Do you have the cell phone?"

The detective sitting across from me stopped writing and peered at me from over a pair of wire rim glasses.

"Um. No. I smashed it."

Detective Noble frowned, scrawled something on the yellow legal pad and muttered, "Don't suppose you kept his number."

"I did." Adam rattled it off from memory. "He texted her night before last, around 7 PM. She didn't reply. I kept the phone until the next day. Four more texts, all ignored, and then two phone calls.""

The detective's head came up. "Did you speak?"

"Yeah. He wasn't happy to talk to me."

Detective Noble nodded, compressed his lips. "Well, that explains the visit to your residence. He's escalating."

What? Escalating? That can't be good.

"He perceives you as a threat to his imagined relationship with Miss Leighton."

What relationship?

"She doesn't know him."

"I don't even recognize his name."

The detective leafed through pages on his pad. "Right. Ray. You don't know anyone named Ray or Raymond?"

I shook my head.

"Has anything like this happened before?"

With a frown, I nodded. "It's been happening a lot since I posed for a tool company's calendar."

"You're a model."

"Was a model. Past tense."

His gaze met mine over the top of his glasses. "Past tense? Why?"

I held out my arms so he could see the pressure bandages. "It's a profession that values perfection and I'm... not perfect anymore."

"Were these other incidents from the same Ray person? Same phone number?"

"I can't answer that with certainty. Some of the creepy things were cards and presents. The texting is new, though. I can't figure out how he got my number."

"Anyone in person seem creepy?"

"No –wait. Yes. The guy at the hospital."

"What guy?" Adam's gaze whipped to mine. I ignored him and elaborated for the detective.

"I visit the burn treatment center at the hospital weekly for therapy. Last time I was there, another patient spied on me through closed curtains while I undressed. I don't know his last name, though. Only that the nurse called him Mark. They said they'll have a security guy with me at all times now."

"Good." Detective Noble nodded. "Don't go anywhere alone. When you're home, make sure your windows are covered, doors are locked. Do you have caller ID on your land line?"

"Yes."

"Don't answer the phone at all unless you recognize the number. And you," he jerked his head toward Adam. "Don't challenge him to any more competitions.""

"I didn't challenge him to any competition."

The detective put down his pen and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Son, you have no idea. Let me remind you, it was your house where the car showed up. He was content with texts, emails, and flowers until you threatened him. That's when he escalated to a personal encounter."

"I'll handle him if he comes back."

"No. You won't. What you'll do is call us. It's our job now and I have to tell you, it's not going to be easy. Everything you've told me could be the action of a different admirer."

Wait, what?

He flipped the pages in his pad. "You need to stay vigilant and make sure neither of you is ever alone. He's likely to escalate further if an opportunity presents." The detective stood.

"Miss Leighton?"

I jolted at the sound of my name, found Detective Noble standing in front me, his hand extended. I shook his hand but mine was the one shaking.

"Take your girlfriend home. I'll be in touch."

"She's not – Uh. Yeah. I will."

Next thing I knew, we were outside in the parking lot. I couldn't remember standing up or walking. The fresh air slapped some sense into me. Adam had both crutches in one hand so he could wrap the other around me.

"Gimme the keys, Eden."

I blinked. Keys. Right. It took me a minute to find them. Could he--? "Adam, you can't drive—"

"Hell I can't." He opened the passenger door for me, maneuvered the crutches into the back seat and climbed behind the wheel, grimacing while the power seat control took its sweet time adjusting to fit his height. He put the car in gear, left the precinct carefully. He tried to hide the pain braking caused, but I noticed his jaw clenching. I said nothing and let him pretend things were fine.

A car pulled up behind us and my nerves coiled. I watched it carefully in the passenger side mirror but it wasn't the same car as the one that followed me last night.

Who was this guy? Was he dangerous or was I being over-dramatic? I didn't get a lot of fan mail; that hadn't started until November, when the calendar was released. Most of it was flattering. Ooo, the things I'd like to do to you with that tool. Stuff like that. Creepy, but it wasn't If-I-can't-have-you-nobody-can threatening. The text messages were pretty weird, though. This guy knew I got burned. He was watching. He could be watching now. I checked the passenger side mirror again. Where was Maddie? What if he like, kidnapped her or something? She could be in trouble. She could be trying to call me right now, but my phone-

"Eden."

Fingers snapped and I blinked.

"You gonna sit there all day?"

I opened the door and stepped out of the car I didn't notice he'd parked. I waited for Adam to retrieve his crutches. Inside the wireless phone store, Adam found a bench, sat down and shrugged when I asked him about various models. So, I picked the one I liked, waited while the rep set it up with a new number and even imported my contacts list. Twenty minutes later, the first call I made was to Maddie.

"Why aren't you in school?" She demanded.

"I went to the police station to report what happened last night."

She sighed. "Eden, I'm sorry I wasn't there last night. I... I had a date."

Oh, God. TMI.

"Relax, Mom. It's okay. Did you get home yet?"

Silence.

"Hello?"

"Um, I'm running some errands."

Oh, God, again! "Mom, I have to go. I'll see you... um, whenever." I ended the call before she said anything and hurried out of the shop. Everything was so – so messed up. One minute, I was booked months in advance. I had friends. I had a proud mother. And the next? Nothing.

Nothing. It was what I'd wanted, right? I knew that. But it didn't make me feel any better. 

The warm hand on my cheek made it worse – and better – at the same time and the tears I'd been holding in since I woke up that morning choked me.

"Shh, Eden, it's okay." Adam murmured, pushing me to the center of the mall where an empty bench waited. He pulled me down beside him, his arm around my back and hips instead of my shoulders because he knew. I loved that.

Oh, no.

My back stiffened. I wiped my eyes with my fingertips while my mind raced and I tried not to look at the man sitting next to me, the man who told me over and over again that he didn't want me, that he would not be there for me and still, here he was. My friends? They abandoned me. My mother? She had a hot date. But Adam was here.

And I was crazy in love with him.

Adam nudged me gently with his shoulder. "You ready to talk about it yet?"

I grimaced. "It's lame. Maddie uh...I think she got lucky last night."

His eyes bulged. "Um. Wow. Okay." He laughed once, a nervous sound. "Wasn't expecting that."

I let the smile fade. "Yeah. Neither was I. I mean, psycho stalker guys texting me, following me home, I kind of thought those were big deals, you know? It... hurt that she didn't come home."

"She didn't know, Eden. Give her a break."

I shook my head. "She knew. I called her during-"

Adam sucked in a sharp breath and I felt the tension mount in his muscles. "No wonder you're upset." He forced out a laugh. "We should introduce your mother to mine. Bet they'd hit it off big time."

I stiffened. Maddie wasn't a bad mom. She hadn't had a date in like – forever. She was entitled to a night out. "Adam, Maddie loves me. I know she does. I'm eighteen years old and I've never seen her with a guy. Not once. This is okay, really."

"Well, well, well, look who's ditching school again. Photo op at the mall?"

I jerked my head up, found Belinda and Ashley standing near us. I quickly wiped my eyes and stood.

"You look... better."

I almost smiled at Belinda's refusal to say good. "How are you, Belinda?" Unlike her words, mine were not sarcastic.

Her mocking smile turned to sneer. "Yeah. Like I'd tell you."

Adam reached his limit. He stood up, eyes blazing. "This is the famous Belinda, the girl stupid enough to drink, drive, and almost get both of you killed?"

Jesus, Adam, turn it down a notch. I slipped my hand into his, squeezed it in warning.

Ashley said nothing. I think that hurt more. She knew me. Why wasn't she running interference instead of taking sides?

Belinda put her hands on her hips, eyed Adam up and down. "Let me guess. You're April for the next calendar? Oh, wait. You're probably the photographer. Eden has a thing for photographers. How many has it been?" She ticked her fingers like she was counting.

Adam's hand let go of mine and my heart fell. Belinda smiled sweetly at him.

"You're a real cutie. Don't let her hurt you. She does that so well."

Oh, for God's sake. I do not! I haven't even dated let alone hurt a string of photographers pining for me. I wanted to scratch out her eyes. I wanted to shove her words so far back down her throat they'd give her diarrhea for a week. Instead, I smiled, bright and wide. "Belinda, this is Adam Olinek, home from Afghanistan. Adam, Belinda Doherty."

Belinda's eyes turned murderous. She stared at me for a few moments and then extended her hand to Adam. "You're Taylor's cousin, right?"

Adam nodded, his mood still sour.

Belinda tried to look sheepish. "Sorry about that photographer crack. Easy mistake to make, really."

Okay. That's it. I'd had enough. "Adam. We should go."

He nodded, his jaw tight. While he bent to pick up his crutches, I remembered my new cell.

"Um. I got a new cell number. Do you want it?"

Ashley nodded but Belinda's eyes lit up with malice. "Why would anybody who isn't a photographer want your cell number?" With a loud laugh, she grabbed Ashley's arm and strolled toward the food court.

I watched them go, my new cell grasped in my hand like old news.

Adam said nothing as he lurched along on his crutches in the opposite direction. I hurried to catch up to him. In the parking lot, he swung the crutches like he wanted to murder the pavement. Swing. Stab. Swing. Stab. He didn't open the passenger door. He got behind the wheel again. I worried about letting him drive in his current condition – part pain, part fury. But I climbed into the passenger seat and stayed silent. He drove with the same energy he brought to everything else, that same focused intensity. I kept stealing glances at him. The frown between his eyebrows... the clench to this jaw. Did he believe what Belinda said about me?

It wasn't even noon when he pulled into Amanda's empty driveway. I wondered where they were. Adam left my car running when he got out, slid the crutches out of the backseat and swung-stabbed his way up the walk to the door.

There was no backward glance. No good-bye. So, yeah. I guess he believed every word Belinda said. The door slammed with enough energy to rattle my windows. I forced myself over the gear shift and into the driver's seat. It was still warm. I ran my hands over the wheel Adam's hands had just held. I was the wheel and those hands were on me. A gust of wind blew through the open door and I shivered but every place Adam's hands touched blistered in my mind. Soft taps hit the windshield.

It was raining now. Even the sky cried.

I closed the door. Snuggled into the seat, my back and shoulders annoyed by the friction. I, however, welcomed it – that link, the one thing Adam and I would always share.

Feel the burn.

Loud sobs startled me because I didn't know I was crying. At first, I cried for me. Pure pity. And something strange happened.

I got mad. Furious.

Total, thought-obliterating, mind-numbing, vision-reddening mad. He knew! He knew how much Belinda hurt me – hell, he'd kissed the damn scars just last night. And still, he let her malicious words sway him. He knew how much I despised when people thought they had me all figured out. He'd done that how many times now? And still, he had the balls to assume her words were true? How dare he? How the fuck dare he? I shoved the gear shift into reverse- No. No, damn him, I would not run. I jammed it back into park, cut the engine and marched to the door. Soaked and dripping, I didn't bother knocking, I just opened the unlocked door and strode inside.

Kitchen, empty.

Family room, empty.

Adam's room. I flung open the door and glared at him while he sprawled on his bed, smoking. I slammed his door, breathing like Darth Vader.

"What the hell is your problem?" I shouted.

"You still here?" His voice was flat. Emotionless.

Fuck that.

I stalked to his bed, grabbed the cigarette from his mouth and ground it to pulp in the ash tray he had on the floor beside his bed.

"What's the matter, princess? Don't like the dirty habit?"

"Shut up." Was that my voice? "Shut the hell up."

Adam's eyes widened and then narrowed to slits. "Careful, princess."

"No!" I shouted again. "I'm done being careful. I'm done letting you and everybody else walk around like you know me. You don't know anything."

Adam sat up. "Hell I don't." His eyes pinned to mine, he grabbed my hand and tugged. I fell, sprawled on top of him. "I know you want me. You like this." He said with a crack in his voice. "And this." His fingers dug into my hips, pressed me against him. He was hard. Jesus, he was hard. "And especially this." His mouth swallowed mine in a kiss.

It hit me. He's jealous. Oh, my God, Adam was jealous! I wanted to spin around in a happy little circle.

"You think this is funny?" He spit the words at me, his hands raced over me, unzipping the hoodie and peeling it off me. He flung it to the floor where it landed with a wet thwack and then wrapped both arms around me, holding me against him. His hands tangled in my hair and tugged, tilting my head back. "I thought you were naïve." He bit my ear and I gasped. "I tried to stay the hell away... tried not to break your heart." His lips and teeth nipped at my neck. "You know what happens to girls who play with fire?" Rough hands scorched a path up and down my body. With a curse, he gripped my t-shirt and whipped it over my head. "They get burned." He pressed his mouth over my heart, branded me.

I should have been insulted at his words. But he'd unfastened the pressure bandage and the sudden freedom inflamed me. I gulped in air, the smell of him tickled me down to my toes.

He sat up, under me as I straddled his waist, so he could rip off his own shirt and toss it beside mine. My mouth fell open. My hands, greedy little hands, grabbed his dog tags, pulled him back to me so I could claim what was mine. I kissed him hard, listened to the hitch in his breathing, felt the twitch in his muscles, the gallop of his heart under my hands. Mine, I thought.

Mine.

He trapped my wrists in one hand. "Tell me to stop, Eden." His chest heaved.

I said nothing. I didn't want to stop -- not now and not last night. 

He released me so his hands could touch my breasts. I pried off the second bandage when he opened my bra and kissed me there, gasping when lips were replaced with his mouth. With one hand, I pulled on his hair, jerked his face up and with the other, tugged at the button of his shorts. "Off."

Trademark smirk in place, he shifted his hips with me still on top. I heard the scratch of metal as he pulled the zipper down, then the slap of full pockets hitting the floor beside the rest of our clothes. When he was done, he grabbed my hips and pushed me lower, lower against his naked body.

Oh, God. More. I wanted more. I grabbed his chin, forced him closer for another kiss and gasped when I was tossed onto my back, his weight centered between my legs. My eyes flew open. "Adam, your leg-" I began but he cut me off.

"Shut up. It's fine and it's your turn." His fingers trailed down over a breast, down to my stomach and lower still, where he popped the button on my jeans, lowered the zipper and whipped them plus underwear off me in a single motion. It took all of a second and a half and then he was back, pressing against me, kissing me, touching me. My hands roamed over wide shoulders, down his strong back, across his narrow hips to dig into the hard muscles of his butt. I lifted my hips to his, loving the way his eyes rolled back.

"So eager." He whispered before he kissed me.

I moaned when his hand moved between us, rubbed and on a bright peak of sensation, I pressed my face against his shoulder, embarrassed by my own scream. The whole bed shook when he laughed.

"You like that? The ones who look pure always do."

More words that cut me, but I soldiered through the pain. He shoved up, found his shorts and took out his wallet.

What the – was he planning to pay me?

When he slid out a foil package, I almost laughed. Condom. Right. He tore it open, handed it to me. I stared at him.

"Last chance. Tell me to stop."

I shook my head.

"Then cover me."

I sat up, looked at the thin roll of rubber in my hands and then at Adam.

Holy God in Heaven. There was no way in hell this tiny piece of rubber was going to cover all tha-

"Princess, you do shy so well, but I'm not buying that act anymore." He took the condom, rolled it down over himself and pushed me down again, one knee nudging my legs apart.

He couldn't possibly fit in-

He lunged and I gasped. He did fit. Barely. I didn't have time to react to the pain, it was over before I could. Adam froze, balancing above me on his elbows. His eyes looked shocked and then he cursed.

"Oh, shit. Jesus, Eden! Why?" He dropped his head to my chest. I clenched and he groaned, long and loud. "No. No. God, no. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He lifted up to look at me, a look of tenderness in his eyes that I hardly recognized, but liked very much. I clenched again and his eyes slammed closed. "Eden, don't, you're too sweet, I can't-"

"It's okay." I lifted my legs, curled them around his hips, and clenched again, since he seemed to like it so much. When his eyes opened, the tender look was gone. Intense Adam was back. With his eyes fused to mine, he moved, slowly at first, his thumb doing a slow dance around my nipple. He bent to kiss me, slow and long and I needed him closer, closer still. I shifted my hips and he cursed again but I kept up. Everything grew stronger, brighter, and I felt it, heard it, saw it all – his heart pounding against my chest, his breaths rushing out on the back of hissed apologies and curses, the rain on my hair smelling like spring flowers, the tension in his muscles as he held himself in control.

More. I wanted more.

"Eden. God. This is so wrong."

Wrong? No! I made a sound but couldn't say if it was a sob or a gasp. I held him tighter to me, with hands, legs, and other parts, gripping with all the strength I had. Sweat coated us and every nerve burned for him. "Adam." His name was a sigh until he moved in me again. Then, it was a cry. When he moved his hand between our bodies, it was a scream when all that sensation, all that intensity, focused, then exploded. Adam's arms snaked under me, his lips pressed to mine, soothing. He moved once, twice, and then went still, his face twisting with tension, then relief and I gasped at the beauty of it.

I caught him when he fell on top of me, stroked his hair, my body boneless and happy.

"Fuck." He shouted, a fist crashing into the pillow next to me. "Oh, Jesus Christ." He pulled out of me, left the bed, dragged on his shorts. He peeled off the condom, wrapped it in a tissue from the box on his dresser and tossed it into a waste basket. The sound of his zipper grated like the strike of a match to a fuse.

"Adam, I-"

"You should have told me."

I flinched at his shout, at the disgust in his voice. "I did once. You chose to believe Belinda instead of me."

He whirled so fast, my hair lifted. "And this was how you set the record straight? You're unbelievable."

Unbelievable. The word lashed like a whip on my bare skin. I left the bed, wiggled into my underwear, unable to look at Adam and face his revulsion. I skipped the t-shirt and bandages and just pulled the fleece on, stepped into my jeans.

"Eden."

Oh, God. His voice wasn't angry anymore. Now it was soft and that was worse. So much worse. I battled back the tears.

"Eden, look at me."

Against my will, I did. He leaned against the dresser. In two long, uneven strides, he was close enough to touch me.

But he didn't.

"Tell me why." His voice was almost a whisper. He swallowed hard, spoke again, his voice tight with anger. "I told you, I told you again and again I didn't want this. That I was going back as soon as I cleared my name. And you let me - Damn it, Eden, tell me why."

The fuse burned, my fury reignited. "Because, you ass!" I took a step forward, shoved him back. "Because you say one thing, then do the opposite. Because you believe what you want to, even when the truth is in front of you."

"What truth?"

"That you were worth it! That you matter!" I shouted and forced myself to breathe. "Forget it. It doesn't matter, not now. You don't feel the way I do. You don't feel anything except anger."

Adam's mouth fell open. He took my hand, closed his mouth, opened it again to say something.

The doorbell ran

I opened the door while Adam finished getting dressed.

Two men in full military attire stood there, one in his thirties, the other not much older than me. "Ma'am. We're looking for Specialist Adam Olinek. Is he at home?"

I nodded, my heart squeezed in a vise. Were they here to arrest him? I led them into the family room as Adam emerged from his bedroom. I didn't know much about military rank but judging by the number of decorations on the older man's jacket, he was important.

The younger man made the introductions. "Major Ronald Thomas, United States Army, Judge Advocate General's Office."

Adam saluted.

"How's the leg, Specialist?"

"Sir, healing nicely. Thank you, sir."

"Let's have a seat, shall we?"

Adam waved them to the sofa that dominated the family room, but sat in a chair opposite them. Major Thomas removed his hat and set a brief case on the table, clicked it open and took out a folder. "Specialist, you know why we're here, so I won't keep you in suspense. You're ordered to appear before the investigative committee at eleven hundred the day after tomorrow. Do you have transportation?"

"No, sir."

Major Thomas waved at the younger man, who never did identify himself but noted something on a pad. "We'll arrange transportation to Fort Hamilton on your behalf." He handed Adam the folder he'd removed from the case. "This should tell you what you need to know. Any questions?"

"Yes, sir. Am I permitted to wear my uniform?"

Major Thomas smiled for a second. "Son, until the judge tells you otherwise, you are still a soldier in the United States Army and expected to conduct yourself as one, are we clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Suggest wearing the dress blues. Corporal, get the Specialist's phone number."

I quietly left the room. On the hall table, I wrote my new cell number down on the pad with a note to give it to Taylor and maybe Amanda, since I knew Adam would have no use for it. It was strange seeing Adam so... subservient. I wanted to stay and watch, but what was the point? I opened the front door, heard the Major ask Adam if he needed to say good-bye to his girlfriend.

"No, sir. She's not my girlfriend."

My fingers tightened on the door frame for a moment.

When I was about four, I filmed a commercial for some product – can't remember what. I only remember that it was Father's Day. I was one of three children who had to tiptoe into a bedroom and jump on the actor playing the dad. He awakened with a wide, warm smile and tossed us each in the air, but because I was the smallest, caught me in a hug, pressed a kiss to my head and said, "Thank you, sweetheart." Sometime over the two days of shooting and all those takes, it became real in my four-year-old mind. And then it was over, everyone saying good-bye. I ran to him, wrapped my arms around him, and called him daddy. He looked at me in horror, the wide, warm smile gone. "I'm not your daddy. You're not my kid." Like a fist to my stomach, his words stole my breath.

Not his girlfriend. This was worse.

He could have said, "She's just a friend." But I wasn't that either.

I was a model who couldn't model, a friend without friends. I wasn't... anybody anymore.

 I stepped into the rain and walked back to my car to head to my empty house.