CHAPTER 12

What the hell was he thinking?! She was now just a few feet away in the next bedroom. He wanted to catch a nap before dinner, but sleep was elusive. He couldn't get his mind off of her stretched out on the bed next door. He pictured her in one of his dress shirts and nothing else, with her long, slender legs wrapped around his waist. She had that sex kitten look, with the tousled hair and heavily lidded eyes from just waking up. Her full lips were parted, and her breathing was ragged as he slowly began to unbutton her shirt. There was something so sensual about her on a normal day, but now that she was carrying his child…gah! Torture! This was torture!

Suddenly there was a knock on his door, and he heard her softly call out to him. He couldn't go to the door like this!

"What is it? I'm getting ready to jump into the shower."

"I was just wondering if you wanted to eat dinner together," she replied with a little hesitancy.

"Um..sure! Give me a few minutes to shower and get dressed.

"A very cold shower," he mumbled, as he padded into the bathroom.

He took his time, not wanting to appear too eager, and he needed the extra time to get his game face back on. He reached a decision after switching the cold water back to hot, allowing the powerful jets of the showerhead to knead the tense muscles in his shoulders. He knew he had some power over her…at least sexually, but he could not let her know that she held the same sway with him. He would not let this opportunity slip through his fingers because there probably wouldn't be another one, so he needed to be smart here. He had to think with the head between his ears, instead of the other one.

….

Chelsea's heart hammered in her chest at the thought of sitting down to dinner with Adam. It had been months since they shared a meal, and she wasn't entirely sure they would be able to get through it without spilling each other's blood. It helped to be angry with him, because at least then she could focus on the anger instead of how he made her feel. She wanted to place those feelings inside a drawer, lock it, and throw away the key, but every single time she managed to regain her perspective, and some semblance of normalcy, there he would be, reminding her that things were most certainly not normal.

She wasn't really that hungry because her stomach was in knots, but she had found some steaks in the freezer, popped them into the microwave to defrost artificially and broiled them in the oven. A couple of baked potatoes also sat wrapped in tin foil on the stovetop.

"Wow. You really shouldn't have gone to all this trouble," Adam exclaimed, startling her as he walked up to the bar. He was hungry until he saw her, and then his anxiety took over.

She swallowed hard. "I didn't know how long you would be so I set the steaks on low. They're done, but I'm just keeping them warm."

His hair was still damp from the shower, and he was unshaven, and developing what was starting to be a heavy five o'clock shadow. Even when Adam shaved, he almost always had that sexy five o'clock shadow, but if he skipped shaving even once, it was more pronounced. Sometimes, after intense lovemaking, her face would be red and chafed from his beard, but she hadn't minded.

Why did he have to look so damn sexy right now, she wondered silently, as she watched him fix another drink. She would give anything for a drink right now to calm her frazzled nerves. She could also use a good dose of liquid courage. She noted that he was barefoot, and had on a black Hugo Boss t-shirt she had purchased for him, and torn jeans- a rarity for Adam Newman. She used to think he was born in a suit and tie. Seeing him like this was a shock to the senses.

He took a drink from his scotch, and pretended not to notice her staring at him. "So, did you get any sleep?" He asked, as he walked into the kitchen and positioned himself at her side, while leaning against the kitchen counter.

His close proximity, coupled with the unorthodox circumstances they found themselves in, aaaaaaand the sexy, casual look he was sporting, were all comingling together, and threatening to expose her innermost thoughts.

Breathe Chelsea, just breathe, she silently admonished herself. This is ridiculous she inwardly chided. She was married to the guy. She was having his baby for Christ's sake! Why was she acting like a hormonal teenager around him all of a sudden? Shifting gears, she also remembered what a total prick he was, bringing his clingy, damsel in distress ex-wife into their marriage!

"Chelsea, other than the obvious, is there something else going on that I should know about? You're acting a little strange- even for you."

He knew full well what was going on. She didn't trust herself around him because she still had feelings for him, and she was telling a whopper of a lie. He almost enjoyed watching her squirm. The only reason he had the teeniest trepidation was that baby she carried. Stress wasn't good for the baby, and he figured her stress level had to be at Defcon 1. It was a hell of her own making, and if not for the baby, he might have been inclined to up the ante, but since there was a baby, he would have to tame his baser instincts and not go for her jugular.

She had suddenly lost her appetite altogether, but she would put on a good front. "I'm perfect Adam. Not a care in the world," she smiled sweetly as she finished placing the food on the table. Inwardly she was cringing because she knew he wasn't buying her act for one single second. She was about as convincing as a death row inmate.

"Okay Chels- whatever you say. Shall we?" He pulled her chair out and watched as she gripped his forearm, and then slowly lowered herself to the seat cushion.

"Wow, it takes some mental preparation just for you to sit down," he grinned mischievously.

Her eyes bore into his face, as he lingered near her chair for a moment before moving to sit across from her.

"You try lugging around an 8 lb. watermelon in your mid-section and see how graceful you move."

"Someone's crabby."

"Let's just eat. My feet are swollen and I look like a blimp, so I'm not really in the mood for fat jokes," she retorted, casting her eyes downward as she began picking at her food.

"Chels, look at me," Adam implored gently.

She raised her eyes to meet his. "I think you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and I've seen a lot of beautiful women. NONE of them measure up to you."

She was momentarily speechless because it wasn't just the words, but the way he looked at her when he said them. He made her feel like she was the only woman in the world…for a fraction of a second, and then her bullshit detector kicked into high gear.

"That's nice Adam. I'm not that easy," she scowled, spearing a piece of steak with her fork and shoveling it into her mouth, while keepng her eyes fastened to his.

Adam downed the rest of his scotch as he moved away from the table to head to the bar for another drink. He was going to need more liquor to deal with her surly attitude. She couldn't even handle a compliment without implying an ulterior motive.

Drink in hand, he walked back to the table and dropped down onto the chair, seemingly exhausted from his efforts.

"Chels, when did you decide that everything coming out of my mouth was as sincere as an Eddie Haskel compliment to Mrs. Cleaver?"

"Who the fuck is Eddie Haskel?" She asked, annoyed.

Adam's lips curled up into a tight smile. He swirled the scotch around in his glass and lifted it to his lips. At this rate, he would be drunk in no time. "Let's try this another way. When did you start assigning every evil intent and motive to me? Are you really that cynical?"

Chelsea's eyes grew large as she weighed her response. "Am I that cynical? Hmm…let's recap. I initially threw myself at you, told you I loved you, and I got…crickets. Then, you made this amazing declaration to me, pledging your undying love to me, while getting drenched in the rain. So romantic!" She feigned swooning. "We got married, and some three months later, your ex-wife decides to lay waste to your precious daddy's ranch, and what do you do? You leave your wife, fresh from a miscarriage, to go and clean up Sharon's mess!

"Chelsea, stop…"

"Why? I'm just gettin' warmed up!"

"No, you're not! I don't need a replay of my stupidity. I know I fucked up! I apologized to you over and over, but it doesn't matter. You have this endless fixation to rub my nose in it." Adam's lower jaw tensed as he spoke.

Chelsea suddenly pushed away from the table and struggled to stand. "I'm going to bed," she huffed. "This conversation is an endless loop of dysfunction, and going nowhere fast."

"Where do you want it to go?"

"What?!" She asked incredulously.

"You seem to want something from me, and apparently I'm not delivering, so I'm asking you- what do you want?" He rose from his chair, and began walking toward her. "I've admitted my mistakes. I've apologized. What more do you need from me before you will stop with this BULLSHIT lie?!"

He was now so close she could smell the light scent of bergamot clinging to his skin. "I'm not doing this again Adam. I came here to relax, and agreeing to share this place with you, for even one night, was yet another foolish mistake on my part."

She felt his hand clamp around her forearm as she attempted to brush past him.

"I'm sorry. I came here for the same reason, and the last thing I want to do is fight with you, but we're here now," he stated. "There's too much left unresolved between us, so let's just get it all out on the table."

Chelsea pulled his hand from around her arm, and moved to put some distance between them.

"I think I'll just head back to Genoa City, Adam," she replied, suddenly feeling bone tired and weary from the mental game of Twister they were engaged in.

"Chelsea- it's dark and cold outside. Just stay and I promise not to beat you up anymore, okay?" He wasn't about to let her leave, to go driving through the woods at night, but he had to let her feel like it was her decision.

She eyed him warily, and then moved toward the sofa where she practically fell into the cushions, too fatigued to drop down slowly. Adam had to stifle a laugh watching her.

"I'll stay, but I'm not talking about the baby or Dylan."

"Trust me- the last thing I want to do is discuss your milquetoast husband."

"You just can't help yourself…"

"Okay..okay, I'll stop," he exclaimed, holding his hands up to signify retreat. He plopped down on the sofa next to her, and lightly tapped her knee with his hand as she looked over at him.

"Hi."

She grinned in spite of herself. He was too cute for words sometimes, and this was one of those times. "So, what should we talk about since 95% of what you want to talk about is off limits?"

He frowned at her frankness, and then decided he had to be just as frank with her. Two scotches on an empty stomach, and with everything on the line, he decided he would just go for it. "Chelsea, would you allow me the floor, and all you have to do is listen? No lectures or anything like that. I just don't want to leave anything unsaid. You don't even have to acknowledge what I'm saying, but it's important for me to say it."

This could end badly, she thought, inwardly wincing. After what felt like an eternity, she responded, "I'll listen Adam, but I can't promise anything else."

"I'm not asking you to, but I only ask that you really listen to me."

"The floor is yours."

He released the breath he had been subconsciously holding. Turning toward her he suddenly turned very serious, and what he said next shocked the hell out of her. "I love you. Correction- I'm hopelessly in love with you." She blinked nervously, as he continued. "After you left me the second time, I tried to make a go of it with Sharon. It didn't work."

Chelsea recovered from her shock to snort derisively at that last bit.

He forged onward, unfazed by her reaction. "It didn't work because of me. She wanted it to work, and tried to convince me that we belonged together, but my heart simply wasn't in it." He swallowed hard, and let out a ragged breath. "I think whatever love I had for Sharon was built on this obsessive need to mitigate the horrible wrong I had done to her. I confused guilt with love, and I now know the difference- because of you Chels."

Tears formed in his eyes as he took a moment to collect his thoughts. He could feel her penetrating gaze on his face, but he couldn't meet her eyes or he would lose it altogether.

"I hate myself for what I did to you. I made you feel like an afterthought, because I ran to the one thing I thought I knew, instead of working through the loss of our baby together. I can't ever take that hurt back. I know that."

"Adam, I…"

"Please let me finish Chels. I know you have no reason to trust or believe me now, but I'm being completely sincere when I tell you that you're it for me. I want you so much it hurts." His voice was beginning to break. "You're so special, and deserving of one man's love, and to only have eyes for you. I want to be that man. I can't say again, because that wouldn't be entirely true."

He looked into her chestnut eyes, which were now swimming with tears, and then noticed she was trembling slightly. He didn't like upsetting her like this, but there was no turning back now. He had to make sure she really knew what she meant to him. No more games.

"I didn't give back to you what you gave to me. It hurts like hell to acknowledge that, but I can't lie to myself or make excuses. I have a clear understanding about my motivations, but that doesn't change how very sorry and deeply ashamed I am for treating you the way I did after the miscarriage. I didn't fully appreciate what I had until I lost you, and...I've been empty ever since."

He stopped talking, and looked down at his hands, unable to meet her gaze, and fearful of the rejection he knew was coming.

Chelsea felt ill. She knew in that moment she would never love Dylan the way she loved Adam. It wasn't possible. She now felt like she truly had all of Adam's heart, but it was too late. She had a husband waiting for her in Genoa City. None of this was fair. Anger began to take shape at the outrageous circumstances she found herself in.

"I can't believe you are doing this to me now Adam," she stated, her voice barely above a whisper. His eyes finally met hers. She couldn't stop shaking- in part because she was so affected by his admission, and partly due to her rising anger.

"You wait until I'm married to tell me how much you love me?" She shook her head in disbelief.

"My timing is lousy, I know. I wanted to tell you so many times Chelsea, but I had all these doubts scrambling my brain." She narrowed her eyes as he spoke.

He knew what she was thinking, and quickly added, "The doubts weren't about you, or my love for you. My doubts centered on my own insecurities, and fears about rejection. Look Chelsea, I haven't been the same since the shooting. Some things have changed for the positive, and some things changed negatively. Almost dying made me realize that dying wasn't necessarily the worst thing that could happen to me."

She buried her face in her hands, as fresh waves of grief tumbled over her. No longer able to hold her tears back, she began to cry softly, as the impossibility of their situation stood as a bulwark to any happiness for either one of them.

Adam risked her wrath, and moved swiftly to envelop her in his arms. She surprised him by throwing her own arms around him, and buried her face against his neck. He stroked her hair and just held her until her tears ebbed and she stopped shaking.

After several minutes, Chelsea reluctantly pulled away. She could have stayed in his arms forever, but it wasn't possible.

After a long silence, she finally found her voice again. "I'm married now. I can't go back. I won't hurt Dylan like that."

Adam smiled at her through his own tears, and nodded slightly. "Just think about what I said, and know that I meant every single word. I love you woman, and I will love you forever."