Page 41 of When Annika Met Thom

“Not at all. I have a dog.”

“You’re afraid of marriage?”

“I’m notafraidof anything. I just don’t believe that anything stays the same forever.”

“How so?”

He flung out a hand. “People change. And they should. They should grow and learn things and gradually, in an ideal universe, become better people. The whole idea of a couple remaining in love and faithful to each other for decades, until they die, is wildly improbable. It’s even more improbable if they haven’t known each other long.”

“Why are you only eloquent when you’re explaining why I’m wrong?”

“Maybe your assumptions piss me off.” He turned and headed back to the bed. Cerberus was watching them and when he approached, she flopped her head down and rolled to her back, inviting a belly rub. Thom, as always, gave her one. He pretended to be unaware that Annika was still standing in the doorway, watching him, but he felt the weight of her gaze as surely as a touch.

“You’re never going to get married?” she asked finally. “You’re never going to be in a relationship that becomes permanent?”

“It hasn’t happened yet.”

“Is it out of the question?”

“You see?” he said, turning to her again. “You’re doing it. You’re assessing the future potential before anything has even happened.”

She flushed. “No, I’m just curious. I’ve never met anyone who didn’t believe in finding a partner.”

“You should get out more,” Thom replied before he wished he hadn’t.

Right. She’d only ever been with Leo.

She lifted her chin and her lips tightened. “Maybe I will,” she said, then shut the door firmly behind herself. Thom heard her march across the floor and turn on the television.

He felt like an asshole.

Again.

He wanted to go and apologize to her, but he knew what would happen after that. It was safer for Annika to be mad at him.

He crashed on the bed with Cerberus, who loved that, put in his earplugs and played some music while he checked the sites for vintage motorcycle parts again.

It was going to be a long two weeks.

* * *

Annika jammed in the DVD,forcing herself to take a breath before she broke something. If she’d had any lack of confidence, the past few hours might have laid her flat. First, Leo—her fiancé—was AWOL, as if he was ducking her. Then, he butt-dialed her while he was doing someone else, someone named Cerise. Worse, his roommate wouldn’t even watch a movie with her when she was feeling lonely and vulnerable.

Worst of all, he did it because he said women were all the same. That really got to Annika. She wasn’t the same as other women. She wasn’t a romantic and she wasn’t clingy. She didn’t always think of forever, and she didn’t assume that finding her soulmate meant there was no need for compromise. She was prepared to work to make a relationship great.

If Leo had arrived and apologized, given her a reasonable explanation of why he’d done what he’d done and said he still loved her, Annika would have worked it out with him. She could totally understand the need for sexual satisfaction and how it might drive a person to make uncharacteristic choices.

The thing was that it sounded like Leo’s choices were right in character.

Could she believe Thom? He certainly wasn’t trying to get her into bed with him.

She thought he had a strong moral code and she liked that. A lot.

The thing was that she was becoming more and more sure that she didn’t love Leo as much as the idea of Leo. How could she not have known that he was going from partner to partner here in New York, while she was trying out for the celibacy Olympics in Portland?

How could she not have known he was lying to her?

Annika was a principled person. She never cheated or cut corners. She never lied to anyone. Deceit just wasn’t in her nature. She had a reputation at work for being direct—and was often given the task of delivering unwelcome news as a result. What a person saw was what they got. Leo had said he loved that about her.

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