I was bracing for something bad to happen.

Giddying heights were usually met by treacherous falls.

Wasn’t that a saying somewhere?

Christmas and New Year’s came and went, and it was perfect. So perfect. Too perfect. I flew back to Vegas with Mac to spend the last few days of my time off with him before returning to my teaching job in Mexico City.

Mac was quickly developing a fetish for seeing me wear the necklace and nothing else.

Okay, he liked seeing me wear the necklace with anything, but that piece was an antique—and pricey. I didn’t hazard a guess at its value, nor had I gone out to get an appraisal or anything done on it. I wasn’t like that, but I knew my bits and baubles because I’d bought a few such items myself.

The gems in it weren’t paste. The setting was by far the most delicate craftsmanship I’d ever seen.

It was sure to be worth at least a few thousand dollars.

I wasn’t about to walk around Las Vegas wearing jeans, a blouse and an antique sapphire necklace. Especially not after the one time I wore the necklace to dinner with a simple blue jersey dress. We’d barely made it back to the room before he pulled my dress up and buried himself inside me.

I’d almost thought he was in heat or something—and I told him that.

He actually made a little barking noise in my ear.

He was insane…and it seemed he was insane about me. At least it felt that way. And I was crazy about him, getting crazier and crazier with every passing day.

That was where I messed up, I think.

We were in his suite relaxing one evening. All my things were already at his place. Over the past few weeks, I moved upstairs from the suite I’d first checked into. I’d essentially moved in with him. Not because I planned to, but…well, it just happened. I got up and started in on my suitcases. Just neatening up, and eyeballing whether or not all the Christmas gifts, odd little shopping items, and Vegas souvenirs would still fit into what I’d traveled with from Mexico City. The truth was, I was reluctant to do the actual packing, despite the fact that I’d been off for almost three and a half weeks.

Packing was too final. Symbolic of our impending separation.

I didn’t want to leave him.

I went back to bed, deferring it again.

“I was thinking about when to come back,” I said after some time.

“Come back?” 

Mac looked up. He was busy tracing the little apple tattooed on the inside of my right ankle. I got it the summer after I’d graduated with my bachelor’s degree and decided I wanted to be a teacher.

“Yes. I’d like to come back to see you. I mean, I have to leave in three days.”

He sat up then, smooth and fluid, face completely blank. “You’re leaving in three days? Why didn’t you mention it before?”

“Uh, didn’t I?” I blinked at him, confused. “I thought I had.”

“No.” He shook his head and got up, moving over to grab his pair of pants from the edge of the bed.

“I thought you knew. I have to go back to my teaching job. The new semester starts on the sixth.” Clearing my throat, I walked to his side of the bed, feeling awkward now. “I’m sorry. I just assumed.” Shrugging as he looked over at me, I offered, “Can I blame it on pregnancy brain?”

“Yeah.” He managed a tight smile. “Sure.”

Mac wasn’t buying it. He got dead silent. He wouldn’t even look in my direction. I had the weirdest feeling he was making moves to shut me out. 

I told myself I was being dramatic and silly for thinking that way. 

“So… I was thinking about when I should come back. Maybe in a few weeks? Around Valentine’s Day, if not sooner.”

“Sounds good.” He padded out of the bedroom toward the living area.

I didn’t like talking to his back, so I followed with the cotton sheet wrapped around me. I had a robe somewhere around here, but was too lazy to look for it. The sheet dragged along behind me toga-style as I trailed after him.

“We never really talked about us, Mac.”

“True.” He opened the door to the fridge and stared inside, his voice calm, almost too calm. “We haven’t, have we?”

“Don’t you think we should?”

“You’re leaving to go back to Mexico, Angel.” He shot me a cold look then. “Maybe we should’ve had this talk before you booked that flight.”

“That’d be hard. I mean, I booked a round-trip ticket from Mexico City to get here.” 

The room went cold. Ice cold. I didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking us.

“You were that sure things between us wouldn’t go well.” He turned back to me, then, arms crossed over his chest.

“Hang on a second. You’re being totally unfair here. I wasn’t sure I’d end up spending an hour with you, let alone three weeks. I went by faith and booked that three-week flight, and figured if it did end up being a one-hour conversation between us, I’d have a fallback in Canada.”

Hearing myself say it out loud made me angry. How could he dare be upset? Back when I’d booked the flight, all I had to go on was our one-night stand, months of unanswered letters, a cold, impersonal form letter between our lawyers, and one phone call from Mac. 

Glaring at him, I fired back. “I still came to you after you ignored me for months, you arrogant ass!”

He blinked in a slow, almost measured gesture.

For the longest time, neither of us breathed or even looked away from the other. To my surprise, after a few more seconds, the corner of his mouth hitched up into a smile. “Did you just call me an ass?”

“Yes.” I sniffed. “Because you’re acting like one.”

Mac blew out a hard breath and rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, maybe I am. I just…fuck, Angel. You’re leaving in three days? I’m performing for two of them. That leaves us with tonight and half of your last day.”

“Well I’m sorry.” Grimacing, I pressed my palms together and considered the idea of moving my flight out a day or two. That didn’t work for my job, though. There was too little time. I needed to get back and prepare a proper set of lesson plans before school started back. I also needed at least a day to rest and get supplies and groceries. I was alone there. And pregnant. I couldn’t cram too much into a couple of days anymore. 

Not without overdoing it.

He came back to me and cupped my face, tilting it up for a kiss.

My heart, already prone to madness around him, started to flutter.

“So…you’ll come back then.” Hands rough and warm against my skin, he held me steady as he studied my face. “Fine. For how long?”

He seemed to be looking for something, waiting. I didn’t know what. But he was closed-off, so very closed-off. And unless he outright told me what he was fishing for, I’d never figure it out on my own. 

“It depends on whether they can locate a substitute teacher for my absence. Maybe a few weeks. Probably less. I guess I could fly up for a weekend at a time. Maybe leave right after school on a Friday and fly back late Sunday night.” I bit my lip as I watched his eyes, but there wasn’t so much as a flicker, not a hint of emotion. Nothing. “We could alternate. You can come down, then me back up here. Although after I hit seven or eight months pregnant, some airlines may not let me fly at all.”

“You’re not planning to stay in Mexico right up until the baby’s born. Are you?”

Scowling, I said, “I honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead. We haven’t talked about it.”

“What about teaching? You said you could end up teaching in Mexico for two years, back when you first told me about it.”

“That was…” Blinking, I cocked my head, a little taken aback. “You remember that. I told you about that back when we met in the summer.”

“That’s not an answer.” He hooked his arms over my shoulders and crossed them behind my head. “There are schools here—plenty of at-risk kids. That seems to be where your heart is. You can make a difference here too.”

“True.” I couldn’t stop myself from smiling at the comment. I was pleased that he’d noticed, and that he seemed to read me so much more easily than I could read him.

“So…you’ll think about it.”

“I’ve been thinking about it.” Rising up onto my toes, despite the heavy weight of his arms, I kissed him. “We just haven’t talked before this.”

“We’re talking now.”

“Yes. And I’m glad we are,” I half-lied, because this wasn’t talking. This wasn’t open and warm and free of tension. This conversation had defensive ripples and argumentative undertones. I wanted it to end. 

“I want to think things through. It can’t be a snap decision kind of thing.”

He got the message loud and clear. Which in itself, was a bad thing.

From giddying heights to treacherous falls.

* * *

Three days went by too quickly.

I stood at the airport with Mac. Neither of us could believe we were here.

“It feels like I just got here,” I said nervously. Fiddling with the strap of my carryon bag, I tried to smile, but it just wobbled and fell away. All I could do was stand there and stare at him, wondering if I looked sad too.

As sad as he was. 

And he did look sad. 

As sad as I’d ever seen him. 

It was so impossible to read beyond any emotion he let me see in any given moment. Those pale, almost ethereal light green eyes could go from warm and expressive to closed and revealing next to nothing. Like the flip of a switch. I might as well be looking into a reflecting pool for all I saw there sometimes.

But he reached out and pulled me close. In his arms, I got an idea of his emotions, and not just because his cock was pressing into my belly like a steel rod. His hands twisted in my hair and he held me so tight, like he was afraid I’d leave and never come back.

Then he kissed me and I tasted the fear.

Or maybe that was my own.

When he finally ended the kiss, I was breathless. “I hope that will tide me over for a while.”

“That won’t cut it for me,” he said, voice blunt. “I don’t want you to go.”

Aw, man. Why did he have to go and say that now? How in the hell was I supposed to just get on a plane and fly away with those words ringing in my ears?

How was I supposed to just…leave?