I am reposting this chapter because for some reason it isn't showing up on the ER page. I'm not sure whats going on, but hopefully it worked this time.

Chapter Four: Yes, still angsty, but getting there . . . I promise! Thanks for reading and reviewing.

I turn the key in the sticky lock on my front door, pushing my body against it with all its strength to get the damn old thing to bust open. Walking into the apartment I cringe at the cold night air, this place is always freezing every time I get home from working a double. I move over to the furnace and bang on it a couple times to get it going; all of the sudden I feel like I live in the dark ages. Pulling my beanie off my head, I let my dirty hair fall from the hat as I walk into my bedroom and start to pull off the rest of my clothes. Looking around the room I spot a cap sitting on top of my dresser. It's black with forest green trim and I can smell it from where I'm standing, I smell him from across the room. I pick up the cap and bring it to my nose, inhaling the scent that's soaked into the wool. I always loved how Carter smelled and how everything that he would touch would smell like him. I used to burry my face in his neck and sniff his scent; I would park myself there like an ostrich with her head in the sand. The first thing I noticed when I met him was that he smelled like my ex-husband and the first thought I had after we kissed for the first time in the trauma room was that now it would be appropriate for me to suggest a new scent. We shared a laugh when I told him that he smelled like my ex and we quickly made our way to the mall to choose a new cologne. I remember smelling every scent in the department store and playfully spraying them on my boyfriend as he scrunched his nose.

I set the beanie back on the dresser, suddenly aware that I am standing in my bedroom freezing my naked butt off. I run into the bathroom and flick the shower on, quickly jumping under the hot water to warm myself up. As soon as the water hits me my body goes limp, the tiredness from working a nineteen hour day finally settling in. I wash my hair and body quickly before I slide down the shower door and sit on the bottom of the tub, letting the water hit my body from above. Laying my head back against the cold tile I close my eyes for a bit, but am jolted out of an almost unconscious state when I hear a faint knocking at my front door. I sit up and listen closely confirming that there is in fact someone at my door. Rolling my eyes, I get out of the tub and into my robe, running a brush through my wet hair before looking through the peephole to see who it is. I lift myself up on my toes and look out into the dimly lit hall. Of course its Carter, who else would it be at this late hour.

I pull my robe tighter around my body before opening the door with a little bit of a confused look on my face. I wasn't really expecting that he would come over tonight, but lately with Carter, you never know. This is the routine for us, he shows up and we exchange comic glances, ones that break the ice a little because otherwise the mood is way too heavy. Somehow I am always surprised to see him though, probably because every time we sleep together I think it might be the last.

I raise my brow at him and he mimics my expression, pushing the door open so he could brush past me. I walk in behind Carter and follow him into the bedroom as he takes his jacket off and throws it on the bench at the end of my bed. He sits down at the edge of the mattress and starts to pull at the tie of my robe, smiling as he watches it loosely fall open. He slips one hand inside and trails his fingers along my stomach before snaking his arm around my waist to bring me closer to him. He brings the other hand up to push the robe off my shoulders and he holds me in between his legs, bringing his lips up to my stomach to place gentle kisses across it. I feel him smile against my skin and I look down at him right before he looks up at me. Meeting his eyes for a second, I look away quickly, noting that we have just broken one of our rules; no eye contact.

I close my eyes and ignore his stare, bringing my hand up to his body to shrug his shirt off of his shoulders, only to open them and notice him still looking at me, trying to make eye contact again. I look back at him for a moment in total confusion. Its like he's trying to get something out of me, a secret, something that I don't want to share and its making me feel uncomfortable and totally vulnerable. I look away again, like its blinding to look right at him. I feel like I want to run and I don't understand why he's doing this all of the sudden. I move to get out of his grasp but he grabs my waist and brings me back to him, pulling me down to kiss him, shrugging off the attempt to connect with me the way he was trying to. We fall onto the bed and in no time he is undressed and on top of me. We melt into one another and for a while he has gone back to the usual way we do this. No cuddling, no caressing, no eye contact. This feels much safer.

A while later our love making starts to rise to a peek, our kissing starting to get a little too passionate. Getting caught up in the moment myself, I let him hold me closer, I let him touch me completely and look into my eyes. A minute later, I know it's a mistake though. He opened a door and I didn't slam it in his face quick enough. I let him turn this into an emotional affair when all it was supposed to be was a physical outlet, a way for us not to hurt each other. But here we are in my bed making love instead of screwing.

For a moment I indulge in this. I enjoy the slowness of intimate love making and the feeling of his lips on mine the way we used to kiss. For only a split second we experience this exactly the way we used to. There is passion and intimacy and emotion until I feel him gently squeeze my arm twice. I snap out of our emotional entanglement quickly, his touch triggering a memory that irks me to the core and I abruptly throw him off of me. When we were together we used to squeeze each others arms twice at random times, passing each other in the hall at the hospital or when we were sitting in a dark movie theater. It was this thing we did to remind each other that we are here, that we love each other. Two squeezes were our way of communicating when it wasn't the appropriate time to do so in other ways.

"Don't" I say it firmly but quietly as I pull the blankets up to cover my naked body like a scared little girl. His eyes burn into me and I can tell that he knows exactly what he did wrong. He knows exactly why I pushed him away. Its not that it doesn't feel good to make love to him this way, its just too close and deep down I'm afraid that it's going to feel too good. I'm afraid that I'm going to get hurt.

"I'm sorry" He puts his hands up like I have just caught him robbing a liquor store, his face full of apology as he shows me his palms so I know that he won't touch me like that again. He moves closer to me to ease back on top of me but I don't move. I can't finish this tonight and I can't have him here in bed with me. I have finally realized our boundary.

"I think you should go" I whisper it into the air and try not to look directly at him because what I really want is for him to crawl back into bed and make love to me with all the passion that we just experienced. But I know that I can't do it; my heart just can't keep up with my body.

I lie against the headboard and watch him get up, my eyes on him as he gathers his clothing and slips them back on. He sits on the edge of the bed to put his shoes on and I turn over onto my side, away from him, not wanting to watch him leave. I close my eyes and try to drift away, waiting until I feel the dip in the bed that will let me know that he has gone.