I was floored. “You wanna talk about low blows? I’m not the one who picked this restaurant, let alone the booth where you first told me—”
“Are y’all playing musical chairs or what?” Lyndsie interrupted.
“I’m not hungry anymore.” Adam stormed toward the exit.
“Wait until Alex hears about this. Worst third day at a new job ever,” Lyndsie muttered as she set down the two plates and the bill on the table in front of me before walking away. “I don’t get paid enough to deal with these crazies.”
I was left sitting alone with enough lasagna to feed a small army and bread with so much garlic, vampires wouldn’t come within a ten-mile radius of me. Looking down at the table with hot tears stinging my eyes, I reached for the paper and straightened out the menu with shaky fingers to study what he’d been working on. The colors were a mottled blur until I blinked, sending teardrops cascading down my cheeks. Adam Rockwell was the only man I knew who could take four restaurant crayons and draw a piece of artwork that rivaled one belonging on the wall of a museum. The one everyone wanted. The one that gave a glimpse inside someone’s broken soul. The one that made sense. Just like him. The one I’d thrown away.
“What have I done?” I whispered as I gripped the sketch. A series of puzzle pieces that weren’t quite connected illustrated a beach scene—a familiar beach scene. Suddenly, the room was too big, too small, and too hot as I took in the symbolism. I needed to breathe.
With clammy hands, I reached into my pocket and pulled out two wadded twenty dollar bills. With zero fucks left to give, I threw them on the table, slipping the check in my bag. Ty could reimburse me later.
I took off toward the front of the restaurant, determined to catch up with Adam. Words jumbled in my head as I tried to formulate coherent thoughts to speak my peace, to explain my actions, but logic was lost. Two years of pent up feelings surged through me. On most days, I wouldn’t allow myself to think about the past, and I definitely didn’t let myself relive a single moment I’d spent with Adam. Every time a memory tried to take hold, I’d shove it away and replace it with projects at Jensen & Jensen, Cash’s SHAT-worthy antics, or anything else that could hold my attention until the sentiment subsided. It was hard work, and I was exhausted from the amount of time I’d invested in forgetting about him.
The rest of the world was unimportant as I shouldered my way through the double doors. A cool blast of evening air socked me in the face, but it wasn’t enough to take the edge off the rage I felt from within.
I skidded to a halt on the sidewalk where I could see center stage. A streetlight illuminated a triangular-shaped beam downward, the honey-tinted color accenting where Adam stood. He flicked a lighter with shaky hands, an incomplete spark repeatedly emitting from the top. Ginger-footedly, I made my way toward his truck, almost afraid that by sneaking up on him, I’d scare him off.
“Come on,” he muttered under his breath with the cigarette pinned gingerly between his lips. The frustration behind his voice was almost tangible. After a few more tries, he succeeded at lighting the tip. Adam leaned back against the truck and bent his left knee, resting the sole of his shoe against the door. His eyes closed before he swallowed hard, tipping his head back against the window to let out a thin stream of smoke.
From where I stood behind a van, he couldn’t see me. Even from across the parking lot, I could sense a lot. The pain on his face was raw and evident as I studied his eyes. It was the same expression from when I’d first talked to him on the beach. It had taken so long for me to gain his trust. Not much had physically changed about Adam Rockwell in the two years I’d been gone, but I’d spent so much time pushing everything about him out of my mind, I’d forgotten to remember the little things. The way he pushed his shaggy hair out of his face when it needed a trim and he was nervous. The way I could feel his pain without even being near, wishing there was a way I could kiss it all away from him and make it better. The way his mouth would curl into a half-smile when he was teasing me. The way he stared at me as if I were the only person who mattered on the planet.
Quit it, Blue.
I slowed to a stop in front of him. “I thought you quit smoking.”
“Not that I have to answer to you, but I did. Until tonight.” He took a long drag. “Celebrating three years smoke-free with a cigarette that’s just as old seems appropriate. I quit the day I asked for your phone number, and here I am with a Riverdale in my hand. Tastes like ass, but so did the idea of spending one more minute with you in that restaurant.”
“Glad I have such an effect on you,” I said, trailing a circular pattern in the gravel with the toe of my tennis shoe.
“Don’t go flattering yourself, Brennan.” The cigarette dangled from his lips. “Here.”
I looked down at the folder he held out to me. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Take it.” Adam nudged the stack of papers forward an inch farther with a jolt of agitation. “You can still read, right? Figure out what you want to do.” He took another drag. “Ty texted to say he’s not coming. Gervais still isn’t resolved because of another zoning issue. I’m going home.”
“Whoa. He gave you directive to go over all of this with me.” I shook my head as I flipped through the pages full of foreign numbers, shorthand, and sketches. “Don’t leave me high and dry.”
“Leave you high and dry? Do you hear yourself right now?” His smile was condescending. “Two years ago, you left me ‘high and dry’ in this God-forsaken town,” his voice intensified and there was no doubt the entire parking lot could hear him, “without a fucking word!”
I recoiled. “It was complicated and I needed room to breathe after—”
“Room to breathe and abandoning someone you’re supposedly in love…” He cleared his throat. “They are two different things. There’s no sugar-coating it. We were in the crossfire of a fucked-up situation, and I’m not discounting that a damn bit, but you sure as hell live up to your name.”
I furrowed my brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You were my oxygen, and I suffocated when you left. For months, I couldn’t breathe when you took off; air was like a cage. It’s been two God damned years, Blue. I don’t think you understand that. Two years. With nothing.” He dropped the butt to the gravel and ground it with the sole of his shoe. “Think about it. I didn’t know if you were dead, alive, or what the fuck happened. All I knew was the girl who I’d planned on having a future with took off on me. There was nowhere to turn except sit down and wonder what the hell I did wrong because last time I checked, calling what we had ‘happy’? That was an understatement.”
Every word he spoke stung like lemon juice in a million paper cuts, but I absorbed all of it, every last ounce of pain he’d offered to me.
“And then you come waltzing back into town like it’s a normal Saturday night?” He paused. “You have nothing to say? Unbelievable.”
I closed my eyes and tilted my head down.
“Let all that sink in for a minute. Maybe two years even. Then, you’ll know what it’s like.” I watched him climb into the driver’s seat of his truck and rev the engine.
A blaze of boldness took hold of me. “Adam, wait!”
He gunned the engine again and motioned toward his ear as if he couldn’t hear me.
“Please?” I squeaked.
Gravel spun out behind his tires as his pickup took off down the street.
There was no chance for a response. No opportunity for a rebuttal. No break in the conversation for an explanation. His exit echoed within me more loudly than any argument could.
I was left alone in the parking lot of Mario’s with nothing to contend with but my thoughts and Adam’s words. Once he was out of sight, I started the walk to Daveigh’s car. Trying to hold back my emotions left me losing the tug of war battle. Hot tears spilled down my cheeks, blurring my vision. The dam was about to burst. I was tired of fighting. Tired of holding myself together. Tired of shoving away everything that’d been so important to me. I had trouble catching my breath through the sobs as I stopped under the eave of the building and covered my face with my hands. Two years of feelings were trying to pour out of me at once. The realization of how much I’d fucked up was the scariest part of all, and I dreaded sorting through the memories, one by one.
* * *
Roughly Two Years Ago
It was fall, my favorite time of year. I ran over to the window, watching the leaves as they fluttered to the ground. Every time I saw them, it was like the first time. Rich hues of auburn, gold, and crimson littered the grass. The sky was a dreary gray backdrop to the setting, and rain dumped from the sky. Washington weather. It always left me feeling giddy, like a small child on a snow day. That was the best way I could explain it.
“Do you know what’s only two days away?” I smiled, looking over my shoulder. “Guess.”
Adam walked up behind me and slid his arms around my waist from behind. I could feel the blanket of comforting warmth radiate off his skin as he turned me around. In only a way he could, he held me tight and made me feel safe. I inhaled deeply, the scent of his aftershave making my stomach do somersaults. Every damn time.
I looked up at him with a smile spreading across my face, impatiently awaiting his answer.
He looked thoughtful as the corners of his lips curled upward. “Full moon?”
“Nope. I’ll give you one more shot.” I snuggled up closer to him, a sigh escaping me.
He was my addiction.
He was my sanctuary.
He was my protection.
Nothing could ever change that. I was certain of it.
“I know! The annual chili cook-off! Pancake breakfast? Am I getting closer?”
“That’s cheating with an extra guess and a question. Strike two. I’ll give you a hint.” I walked him backward until he was pressed against the wall, a sly grin spanning my face.
“What are you doing?” His voice grew husky.
“You’ll see.” I pushed myself up onto my toes and let my mouth graze his lips.
Adam’s arms tightened around me as the kiss deepened, my tongue gently teasing his. “I like your hints. Can I get a dozen more?”
With heavy-lidded eyes, I took a step back, lacing my fingers through his. “In two days, the election will be over, one hundred and eighty days will have passed, and we’ll be able to stop hiding. Let’s work on our idea to escape this hellhole. Where do you want to go first? Stay nearby or drive?”
“Slow down, blue eyes. You sure you’re ready to tell the world you’re dating a felon, let alone run off with one?”
“Yes. Not yes, but one thousand percent yes,” I said. “Are you having second thoughts?”
“No, but plans need to be in place. My grandfather’s house…”
“I’ll scream it from the rooftops, if you want me to. Besides, I told you from day one I wasn’t interested in hiding our relationship. That was all your crazy idea. And saying you’re a ‘felon’ makes it sound way worse than it actually is.”
“Well, first off, it was Elana’s demand. Second of all, everyone in Steele Falls cares about gossip, not the truth. Third, with the election and your family, I didn’t want to be responsible for anything the media slings—”
A knock sounded at the door.
I jumped back and tugged at my rumpled shirt. “Shit. Is it five o’clock already? That’s Madelyn. Do I look like we had sex?”
Adam smiled and kissed my nose. “You’re cute when you’re flustered. You know that?”
“That’s a yes, isn’t it?” I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to tame the curls as my shoulders slumped. “It is.”
“You look fine,” he reassured me.
“You know I hate that word,” I said. It’s like saying something is barely acceptable.
He looked into my eyes and twirled me around once. “You look amazing, beautiful, and like you had sex. Is that better?”
I playfully smacked him on the shoulder and looked at my face in the mirror. Hair disheveled. Cheeks rosy. Lips swollen. Satisfied expression on my face. He was right. And there was no time to hide what I considered to be obvious.
Adam slid his feet into the worn pair of tennis shoes near the bed and shrugged his way into a thermal sweatshirt. “I’ll see you later tonight,” he said with a slight smile before opening the back window. “Love you.”
“Love you too.” I nodded as he gave me a chaste kiss before climbing out, shutting it behind him.
The knocking sounded again.
“Just a sec!” I let out a deep breath and I headed toward the door, taking a few moments to compose myself. With a deep breath, I pulled on the handle with a smile affixed to my face. “Hey, Mads.”
“Hi,” she replied, adjusting the tote bag on her shoulder. “Let me in. It’s raining harder than a cow pissing on a flat rock out here.”
“Now, that’s a visual I could’ve gone through life without.” I glanced back at the window, a wave of sadness washing over me that Adam was gone and out in the bad weather because of me.
Madelyn took off her rain jacket and draped it on the back of a chair before she eyed my shirt. “You know, they make irons, right? Unless you’re trying to start a new trend. And if so, don’t.” Her long blonde hair clung to her shoulders from the relentless rain, yet it was still the color of lustrous glass. “Since it’s my turn to buy, I brought Mario’s. They had a half-off special on lasagna tonight, and I don’t get paid for another week. So, Italian we get.” She flopped down on the loveseat and started unloading cardboard boxes from her sequined tote bag. “What’s new?”
“Not much.” I unhinged a clamshell container full of salad and popped a crouton in my mouth. “Just been trying to hide out with the whole election thing coming up. The usual.”
“Has your momster been that bad?” She offered me a pained look with bright green eyes.
I shook my head. “Always. What about you? Did you hear back from that college you’ve been waiting on?”
“Not yet. They technically have until tomorrow to reply.” She absentmindedly poked at a pool of grease on top of her dinner. “Oh! Do you know who I saw when I was waiting for you to answer the door?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Please tell me it wasn’t the campaign caravan. I can’t deal with any more—”
“Not even close. Adam Rockwell was walking down your street.”
“Nice,” I said, thumbing my way through a magazine at breakneck speed, not taking time to look at the articles.
She arched an eyebrow. “Do you always read fashion mags upside-down?”
“Huh?” I blinked and focused on the words below, realizing she was right. “Out of it today, I guess. Sorry.” I flopped the fashion magazine closed and tossed it in a basket next to the TV.
“What do you think of him? Is he seeing anyone?” Madelyn looked down at her reflection in the glass of the coffee table and applied a layer of lip balm.
“Who?” I asked.
“Duh. Adam. I mean, I know he’s a little older and all. But who cares, right?”
I blinked quickly. “How would I know who he dates?”
“I dunno.” She shrugged before taking a bite of lasagna. “He’s always so withdrawn and keeps to himself. It’s mysterious. Plus, he’s got that tall, dark, and handsome thing going for him. Thought maybe you’d heard something around town.”
“Around town?” I felt my heartrate speed up. “Is there something I should know about?”
“Man, you’re acting weird tonight. Relax.” She giggled and started the process of braiding her hair. “He’s…he’s fucking hot. I mean, you’re not interested, right? I thought I saw him checking you out last week when we were down at the beach. Maybe I was wrong.”
“No!” I blurted. Suddenly, my heart was as heavy as the lump of pasta sitting in my stomach. As happy as I was Adam was mine, no one knew. And that killed me. It broke my heart Mads didn’t know what was going on in my life. We’d told each other everything since we were kids. “Nope. Not interested.”
“So, you’d be cool if I asked him to dinner? Like on a date?”
I hesitated for a few seconds and bit my lip. Forcing that smile onto my face was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. “S….sure. Doesn’t matter to me.” The words were bitter as they crossed my tongue.
“Good.” She studied my expression and then grinned. “Maybe I’ll get up the courage to talk to him when I’m back home in a few days.”
“Fantastic,” I replied, jamming a massive bite of salad into my mouth to keep myself from saying anything I’d regret.
“I’m probably wasting my time.” She undid the braid, dissatisfied. “He’s not going to be into someone like me.”
“Come on, Mads,” I replied. “What guy wouldn’t want to date you? You’re perfect. Smart. Funny. Thoughtful. Plus, you have that cutesy blonde hair, green eyed, freckled look. And those years of soccer practice left you with an athlete’s figure. Guys around here go bananas for that kind of stuff.”
Wait a minute. What am I doing? Was I actually encouraging her to ask out my boyfriend? Abort! Abort! I needed more salad to occupy my mouth.
“Hey!” Her eyes lit up. “Maybe we could double. You and my little brother could—”
“Huh-huh. No way,” I immediately cut her off. “You’re my best friend, and I love you to the moon and back, Mads. But I have to draw the line somewhere. That’s like incest. Not happening. Ever.”
“Fine.” She closed her box of lasagna. “So, I’ve been thinking about cutting my hair into a bob. You know, something drastic. What do you think…”
Her lips moved, but I didn’t hear what she said. Thankfully, the topic of Adam Rockwell had been dropped. At least for the time being.
Life was getting complicated, and each day seemed to have more enormous hurdles for us to clear. I had to find a way to tell Madelyn about my relationship with Adam, but there hadn’t been a good time. Okay. There had been plenty of opportunities. Probably hundreds. But I was a chicken shit. With what I knew, I needed to protect him by any means possible, even if that meant keeping my best friend in the dark.
The rest of the night fit our standard hangout protocol. It entailed hours of watching old movies on the freebie channel, laughing at inside jokes, attempts at amateur manicures, and my downing a couple of bottles of wine. Madelyn was slightly younger than me, and miss straight and narrow always turned down the booze since she wasn’t twenty-one yet.
At ten o’clock, the second movie had ended and so had the rainstorm.
“I should get going.” Madelyn yawned. “I’ve got a headache, and I have to work tomorrow.
“Want some ibuprofen?” I reached into a cupboard.
“No!” she exclaimed and then calmed her tone. “I mean, I’m good. Call you tomorrow?”
“Sounds good.” I wiped down the counter with a wet paper towel where a blob of lasagna had landed earlier in the evening. “Drive safe.”
“Always.” Madelyn slung her tote bag on her shoulder as she closed the door.
I continued cleaning up the mess of paper plates and wine bottles when I heard a tapping at the back window.
Butterflies flitted in my stomach as I dropped the paper towel and darted across the room. As always, it took mega-force to jam the warped window upward with the heels of my hand. “You’re soaked.” I looked at the dark-colored shirt clinging to his frame while he crawled through the window. “Wasn’t this thing light gray when you left?” I tugged on the sleeve.
“I think so.” His teeth chattered as I peeled it off him, letting the weighted material drop into a soggy pile on the floor. “It’s kind of hard to avoid the raindrops on foot. Two more car-free days to go.”
“And you’re freezing.”
“I’ll bet you could warm me up.” His icy fingertips trembled as they greeted my face, leaning down for a kiss. Adam’s cool lips met mine, and I fell into his embrace. As he pulled back, his coy smile took hold of my heart. “See? With your help, the chill will be gone in no time.”
He grabbed a spare shirt from the bottom dresser drawer along with a pair of his athletic pants. Our relationship had been kept so hidden, we’d both started stashing clothes at each other’s houses to avoid extra trips out in public.
“We need to talk about something.” I fought to focus on my words and not on Adam’s abdominal muscles.
He grabbed a breadstick from the foil bag on the table and took a bite. “About what?”
“Please put a shirt on. I can’t concentrate with you standing here half-naked.”
“Why not?” He smiled, flexing with his biceps in an overdramatic pose.
“I dunno.” I blushed and glimpsed his tattooed arms. “It makes me want to do stuff to you.”
He waggled his eyebrows. “Ooh! What kind of stuff? Kinky stuff?”
“Stop!” I covered my eyes with my hands. “Not looking at you. Otherwise, I’m going to get distracted again. And this is important.”
He laughed. “Fine. I’m decent. You can look now.”
“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times, you’re more than decent.” Peeking through the gaps between my fingers, I lowered my hands to my sides. “Thank you.” I let out a deep sigh of relief.
“What’s up, blue eyes? You look worried.”
I chewed my lip. “I think Mads has a thing for you.”
“A thing?” he replied. “What kind of thing?”
“A romantic thing. She likes you.”
He swallowed the mouthful of bread with a pained look on his face. “Blue…”
I spoke quickly, like ripping a bandage off a hairy arm. “Heads up, she’s planning to ask you on a date after she gets back from some vacation next week. We need to find a way to tell her about us before this all backfires.”
“Tell me about it.” He rubbed his face. “Maybe it’s because we only have two more days to go and victory is on the horizon, but I swear this relationship is getting harder to keep quiet by the minute. Fortunately, you’re worth every second of the struggle.”
Heat crept into my cheeks while I fiddled with a stray string on my shirt. “She asked if I was interested in you.”
He got quiet and the mood shifted from playful to serious. “What did you tell her?”
“I was on the spot. Of course, I told her ‘no’.”
A flicker of pain showed behind his eyes and it was like I’d been sucker-punched in the stomach. He was the one person who I vowed to never hurt. He’d been dealt enough of that in his life, and I’d deemed it my job to not let it happen again.
“Adam,” I touched his arm and swallowed the lump in my throat, “the lie burned like hell, but I had to protect you…us. This asinine six-month thing is almost over. I can’t risk losing either—”
“Shhh…” Adam wrapped his arms around me. “You don’t have to justify anything, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know. But I feel…”
“You feel what?” Adam lifted me up and I instinctively wound my legs around his waist, his hands cupping my ass before he engaged me in a deep kiss. “Tell me what you’re so afraid of.”
I braced my hands against his pectorals and moaned. “I don’t remember.”
“Good,” he whispered. He slid one hand under my shirt, his flat palm inching its way up stomach, the coldness making me flinch. His grip around my waist tightened with the other. It was a reassurance he’d never let go. Our kiss only broke long enough to let the annoyance of fabric pass between us before my tongue sought his out again.
“God, I want you,” he murmured as he fumbled with the clasp on my bra one-handedly.
A knock and a click caused my eyes to open.
The front door creaked and we froze mid-kiss, mid-half-nakedness, and mid-passion.
“Hey, I forgot my rain jacket, and I’m not talking about condoms…Blue?” It was the ultimate let down, both figuratively and literally. Madelyn’s hands dropped to her sides, her tote bag landed on the floor, and her jaw fell. The color drained from her face, her expression crushed.
“Mads, this isn’t what it looks like.” I squirmed from Adam’s grip and scooped up my shirt from the floor. The damn thing was inside out with one sleeve wound through the head hole, so diving my way into it wasn’t nearly as graceful as I’d hoped.
“Do you have him on speed dial or something? You couldn’t wait long enough for me to get turned down before you swooped in?”
“You don’t understand. It’s complicated,” I replied.
“It’s only complicated if you make it complicated. Some friend. Not interested, my ass.” She snatched up her belongings and bolted out the door.
“Fuck.” I grabbed my tennis shoes, jamming my feet in without bothering to unlace them first. “I’m sorry, Adam. I need to talk to her.”
“I get it,” he said. “I’ll stay here. You go.”
“Madelyn! Wait!” I yelled as I raced through the open doorway, leaving Adam in my wake.
For hours that night, I looked for her all over Steele Falls and into the outskirts of Ocean Shores. I continued my search until the sun began to rise the next morning before I finally gave up.
She wasn’t at home.
She wasn’t at either of the local parks.
She wasn’t drowning her sorrows in ice cream at Chilly Philly’s.
She wasn’t driving down the 101.
Regret flooded my stomach, and I threw up half-digested lasagna on the sidewalk twice. I could have avoided the entire situation unfolding by telling her the truth, but I didn’t.
Over the next three days, I sent thirty-seven texts—none of them ever marked as read. I also phoned her fifty-two times—each call immediately sending me to her peppy voicemail greeting until the mailbox was full of messages from me. It was borderline stalking, but I was desperate. Begging her to talk to me. Begging her to yell at me. Begging for anything. Any type of attention I could get, I wanted it. Scratch that. I needed it. Needed to know she was okay. Instead, I was left disappointed because we never spoke again.