The last thing Foreman wanted or needed was reassurance. He knew he was good, that he was worthy of every chance he'd had at Mercy and all through his career. This was a problem, a set-back, but he wasn't going to let it define him or his life. He'd find a way to make the most of it. Too often, though, the women he'd dated had been too sympathetic, too cloying in their attempts to comfort him. Foreman didn't want to hear that from Amber. He hadn't wanted to talk about it at all with her. He could tell from her attitude that she didn't accept no for an answer, didn't let anything stop her, and he didn't want to seem as weak as that in her eyes. He'd hung on for three years with House on the determination to learn as much as he could and then get out. He had a hell of a lot of strength, and he didn't need anyone else to tell him so.
Amber took his hand, and Foreman let out a breath, relaxing despite himself. She didn't dwell on what he'd said, or press for more details. He really would have told her he wasn't willing to go into it if she had. He could feel her breath against his palm, and the soft touch of her lips. She kissed his pulse point, and Foreman wondered if she could feel how fast his heart was beating. Even the lightest breath revived the excitement from the dancefloor. What she said--Foreman was less sure of how he felt about that. He knew it had been chance that brought them together, but he guessed from what she said that if she hadn't picked him up, then it would have been someone else. Nothing really special or remarkable about him other than the fact that he'd been there when she was looking. Still, had he felt any different? He'd taken advantage of Amber coming on to him to forget his own problems. He'd wanted to use her as an escape, a distraction. He had no right to be bitter simply because she saw him the same way. Foreman cupped Amber's cheek again, feeling the smooth curve, feeling warmer this time, less like pulling away. "I'm pretty sure I can help you relax," he said. It was a terrible line, but he was confident they'd be good together, the more they exchanged these small touches, getting bolder with each one. A single kiss while they'd been dancing was only enough to sharpen his desire.
no subject
Amber took his hand, and Foreman let out a breath, relaxing despite himself. She didn't dwell on what he'd said, or press for more details. He really would have told her he wasn't willing to go into it if she had. He could feel her breath against his palm, and the soft touch of her lips. She kissed his pulse point, and Foreman wondered if she could feel how fast his heart was beating. Even the lightest breath revived the excitement from the dancefloor. What she said--Foreman was less sure of how he felt about that. He knew it had been chance that brought them together, but he guessed from what she said that if she hadn't picked him up, then it would have been someone else. Nothing really special or remarkable about him other than the fact that he'd been there when she was looking. Still, had he felt any different? He'd taken advantage of Amber coming on to him to forget his own problems. He'd wanted to use her as an escape, a distraction. He had no right to be bitter simply because she saw him the same way. Foreman cupped Amber's cheek again, feeling the smooth curve, feeling warmer this time, less like pulling away. "I'm pretty sure I can help you relax," he said. It was a terrible line, but he was confident they'd be good together, the more they exchanged these small touches, getting bolder with each one. A single kiss while they'd been dancing was only enough to sharpen his desire.