Beth pulled her knees tighter against her chest, curling even deeper into the corner of the sofa. The apartment was getting darker, the light coming through the two small windows in the living room fading as night closed in. It didn't matter. Maybe the darkness would help, maybe it would swallow her whole and she wouldn't have to worry about anything.

She didn't know what to do.

She didn't know what she wanted to do.

And that wasn't like her.

How had it gone all wrong? How had it had happened? It was just supposed to be sex. That was it.

She should have known better. Should have known that she couldn't just have sex without getting attached. That was her problem, it always had been. She liked sex—like, really liked it. But she'd never been one of those women who could just hop into bed and right back out without feeling…something.

God, how could she be so stupid? She should have walked out of the bar as soon as she saw Adam that very first night, should have known he was the kind of guy who'd end up hurting her. Not because of anything he'd done—no, he'd been a perfect gentleman…

Well okay, maybe not a gentleman, not in the old sense of the word. She didn't think gentlemen were quite so inclined to do the things Adam had done with her. But he was nice. Considerate. Funny. Everything her ex wasn't.

And now she had fallen for him.

It wouldn't have been so bad, even after that last time in the parking lot. She'd known then it was too late, that she'd already fallen for him. She liked him—a lot. Had wondered what it would be like to actually, maybe, have a relationship with him. Yes, she knew it would never happen. Had told herself it didn't matter. She could imagine, right? Nothing wrong with that.

And that had been exactly what she'd prepared herself to do, after their last time together. No, it hadn't been easy, but since when had she ever done anything the easy way? She'd get over him, move on, get back to life as she knew it.

Until she went to see him in the hospital.

She took a deep breath and wiped her face against her shoulder. Seeing him had been a big mistake. He'd looked so…so vulnerable. Trying to hide the pain even though she could see it in his eyes. And that had scared her, more than anything. The idea that someone so strong, so vital, so alive, had come so close to losing it. To…to dying.

She couldn't imagine a world—any world—without Adam in it. That more than anything let her know she was in trouble, that she was in over her head. And when he'd held her hand and asked her to stay…

Her heart had leaped for joy, despite her mind telling her not to read into it. He was in pain, on medicine that probably stopped him from thinking clearly. It didn't matter, though, because he'd asked her to stay. Her mind had already been made up, she'd made the decision to stay as soon as the words left his mouth, knowing she was putting her heart on the line.

What was one more time? She'd survive. She always did.

Until he uttered those last three words just before falling into whatever oblivion the medicine created for him.

I need you.

Need.

Beth had never been needed by anyone in her life. To think that someone like Adam, so strong and vital, might actually need her? No, it was ridiculous. Insane. Unbelievable.

It scared her to death.

It was the pain medicine talking. It had to be. No way did Adam need her. They didn't know each other. They had shared sex, nothing more.

Except now she was wondering if she was wrong about even that. And how stupid—how dangerous—was that?

So she'd left, practically running from the hospital room soon after he fell asleep. The drive back home had been a blur, a race to reclaim her sanity as she put distance between them.

Beth was fairly sure she lost that race.

If she could talk to someone, have someone tell her that she was only imagining things, that she was a fool for thinking anything could happen between them, she'd do a better job of getting these stupid fantasies out of her head. She needed a cold dose of reality to snap her out of it.

But there wasn't anyone to talk to, nobody who would really understand. Courtney would, but Courtney was dealing with her own issues. Noah's father was back in the picture. From what Courtney told her, he was trying for a reconciliation, wanted to get back together. Courtney was fighting it, afraid of getting hurt again.

Beth knew exactly how she felt.

So no, she didn't really have anyone to talk to. Who else would even possibly understand? How could she explain that she'd fallen for some guy she'd met for the sole purpose of having sex? It sounded laughingly stupid even to her own ears.

And now she was afraid she was going to make an even bigger mistake.

Beth grabbed her phone and tapped the screen, pulling up the text messages she'd received.

Adam was improving.

Adam was being released from the hospital.

Adam was going home tomorrow.

Adam needed her.

Beth closed her eyes and wondered again why the woman, Mikey, kept texting her. She didn't know Beth, didn't know anything about her. Didn't know that she was nothing more than a casual hook-up for Adam.

Her mistake had been in telling Mikey that—because apparently Mikey did know. At least enough. And oh God, how embarrassing was that? It didn't matter that Mikey told her she was the only woman Adam had ever introduced to his shift. So what? It meant nothing.

Except Mikey was convinced it did.

Mikey was convinced Beth was exactly what Adam needed.

No. Absolutely not. Beth couldn't allow herself to think that, not even in the middle of the night, in the deepest, most secret places of her mind that came alive during her dreams. To believe that, even for a second, would prove fatal.

Beth had experienced heartache before, but she always survived. She knew now it was because none of the relationships had the power to really hurt her—because she hadn't given them the power. Hadn't really given them that much of herself, had always held something back.

It was different with Adam, and she wasn't sure why. Somehow, somewhere along the way, she'd given him…well, maybe not power. But she'd given him a piece of herself that she'd never given to anyone else. She didn't know how, didn't know why, only knew that it was too late to take it back.

That didn't mean she intended to deliberately set herself up for heartache. She could still save herself from that, all she had to do was distance herself. Not think about him, not let those stupid fantasies play out in her mind.

Except Mikey didn't want to let her do that.

Beth had asked her why. Why was she so determined? Why was she suddenly so involved?

The answer had brought tears to Beth's eyes, had shattered the protective wall she'd tried so hard to keep in place.

He saved my life.

And that's when Beth learned exactly what had happened the night Adam got hurt. The fire, the explosion, the floor collapse. How he'd grabbed Mikey and protected her with his own body, how he'd risked himself to protect her—and her unborn child.

"Oh, damn. Damn, damn, damn." Beth tossed the phone to the side and wiped her eyes. It shouldn't matter, none of it. She needed to protect herself. She needed to not be stupid, for once in her life.

She needed to walk away, put it all behind her. To save herself before she made a huge mistake.

The phone vibrated. Once, twice, three times. Beth stared at it, afraid to pick it up, afraid of what she'd see.

Afraid of what she'd do.

But she reached for it anyway, read the text messages flashing across the screen.

And knew she was going to make the biggest mistake of her life.