Chapter Seven

 

Chris

 

I’m shaking. I’m actually shaking, and it has nothing to do with the bitter chill in the air. It might be March, but winter is still hanging on for dear life. Just because the calendar says it’s spring doesn’t mean Mother Nature agrees. But I don’t even notice the temperature outside despite it being less than fifty degrees. I’m shaking because of Adam. How the hell can he do that to me? And in front of my brother, my mom, and more than five hundred strangers. What the hell is his game?

My eyes are prickling with coming tears. It’d be a lie if I said I haven’t missed Adam. I have, more than I probably should, but that shouldn’t matter. We never dated. We weren’t a couple. We just had sex, that’s it.

So why was it so hard for me to forget about it and move on after Christmas? For three months, I’ve thought about Adam every day. I look through my texts and the pictures on my phone. I even wear that damn ring every day. Why?

Never mind… I know why. I’ve known for a while.

My heart drops and breathing becomes a little difficult. I know why I look through my phone when I have some time to myself and why I still wear the ring. I even know why I check the band’s social media pages constantly.

Being as attached to the group as I am, of course I follow them––and the individual members––on every single piece of social media they have. I like all of the obligatory posts, favorite and quote them. I did my duty as Max’s sister, but in the last couple of months, I’ve become more of a cyber-stalker than anything.

I check all of their sites, scroll through their posts, and look at all their pictures because I miss him. I miss Adam and somehow, deep down, I know I’m not allowed to talk to him anymore. My relationship with Max is back to where it was before the blowout, but there was an unspoken agreement that I would not talk to Adam again, at least outside of social situations. I knew it’d only hurt Max if I did, so I stopped. After thanking him for the ring, I haven’t said a single word to Adam Cleary.

As I’m standing on the nearly-abandoned sidewalk outside the theater, trying to will the ache out of my chest, I hear something behind me.

“Sweetie?” It’s Mom, and I immediately begin to wipe the tears from my cheeks. I feel her hand on my shoulder so I force a smile and turn. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I openly lie. “I’m fine, but I’m kind of getting a headache. I think I’m just going to go grab some coffee, or something.”

“Okay,” she nods. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” I smile again. “I’ll just be down the street. You go ahead and go back to the show.”

She seems uncertain, but after a little more prompting, Mom heads back inside and I’m allowed to let my smile fade. There’s a coffee shop down the street, so that’s where I plan to wait for her. I’d go back to Mom’s place, but we only brought the one car and it’s a half-hour drive back. I don’t want to abandon Mom at the theater.

With my hands in my pockets and my mind still racing, I make my way down the street. Despite the late hour, they’re still open, and when I step inside, I’m immediately greeted by the scent of coffee and pastries. I give the barista my order, pay, and gather my drink before taking my seat.

My cell phone keeps vibrating with notifications, but I don’t bother answering it or checking them. The guys have someone to take pictures of them while they perform and post them up on one of their sites, so I know that’s what’s making my phone go off every minute or so. I have no desire to look at them right now.

Running my fingers through my hair, I let my eyes drift through the massive windows to my left and sink once again into my thoughts.

 

****

 

I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting in the coffee shop, but I guess it’s been a while because my coffee’s almost completely gone and cold. Eventually, I decide to just call a cab and head back to Mom’s. As much as I want to see Max after the show and congratulate him on it and the tour, I want to avoid Adam just as much. I thought I’d be able to handle seeing him after so long, but I was wrong. I was immediately uncomfortable in the backroom and the song he sang… I just had to go. After texting Mom and telling her my plan, I call a cab, and leave Madison.

 

****

 

I’m sitting in the living room watching TV, but hardly paying attention to it when Mom finally gets home. I’m a little surprised, and not, at the same time. It’s a bit of a drive from Madison, and it makes sense that she’d want to stick around and talk to Max before the band has to be on the road again.

“Hey,” I call absently over my shoulder.

“Hello, sweetheart,” she says as she removes her coat. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” I nod. I know she can tell I’m not being honest, but thank God she doesn’t press. I’m not in the mood to talk.

“Well, Max was a little disappointed you weren’t there to tell him goodbye.” She chastises me softly as she enters the living room.

“I’ll text him.”

“Hmm,” is her only response. “Well, I’m going to get ready for bed.”

I nod again and listen to her leave. When the show’s over, which won’t be long, I’ll do the same, get as little sleep as I tend to, and then tomorrow night I’ll be on a flight back to California and go back to pretending everything’s okay.

This was just supposed to be a nice trip home for Mom’s birthday, and now I’ve been thrown into emotional turmoil.

 

****

 

April

 

I’m in my office pouring over some plans for a new job. I love my work. I get to bring these old, classic pieces of architecture back to life and restore them to their previous glory, and better yet, it keeps me busy. Between dealing with the city for permits, contractors for work, and about a thousand other people, it keeps my plate full and allows me absolutely no time for my mind to wander. And that’s what I need. I need to focus, especially since that fucking song Adam wrote is now on the radio.

I’m sitting at my desk going through paperwork, ensuring I have everything I need to begin the project on Monday, when there’s a knock at my door.

“Yeah?” I call out with my nose still buried in papers.

I hear it open and then the voice of my assistant Karen shortly after. “There’s someone here to talk to you.”

“Do they have an appointment?” I ask absently.

“Not exactly, but…” her voice trails off and the odd tone forces me to look up. My stomach drops.

Standing just behind Karen and half-visible in the doorway is an unmistakable figure: Adam. His sapphire eyes meet mine over Karen’s head and without bothering to wait for an invitation I don’t know I’ll give, he steps around her and into my office.

“Hey, Chris.” He greets me in a relatively somber tone.

“What are you doing here?” It’s the best I can offer. Adam lives in New York like the rest of the band, so it isn’t as though he was in the neighborhood.

“Uh,” he hesitates. His eyes dance to the door and it’s only then I notice Karen’s gone. He looks to me again and takes a step closer. “So, what are you up to?”

My brows tug together as I struggle to gain control of myself. Adam looks good, and I kind of hate him for it. It’d be easier to be in a room with him if he’d suddenly grown a horn, or something, or maybe was covered in boils, but no. He looks great wearing a plain, dark grey sweater, dark jeans and a simple scarf. It’s a little chilly here in San Francisco, but that’s just spring.

I hate him. I hate that he looks so good in something so simple. I hate that I’ve missed his bright blue eyes, his voice, and even the way his mustache perfectly frames his lips. Worse yet, I hate that I don’t hate it at all.

“What are you doing here, Adam?” I ask again when it dawns on me he hasn’t answered.

The small smile he managed to give me when he walked into my office fades and he shifts on his feet. “You didn’t stay after the show.”

Confusion takes my features. “You flew over two thousand miles to see me because I didn’t stay after the show?”

He shifts on his feet again and his eyes drift to my windows. He’s nervous and I honestly can’t remember the last time I saw him like this. I’m not sure I ever have.

“I,” he stammers briefly before meeting my gaze. With a sigh, he replies, “I’ve missed you, Chris.”

I feel a jolt. “Huh?”

I notice him glance to my hand. A smile touches his lips the moment he sees the thorny ring. “I’ve missed you,” he repeats more surely than before.

“Why?” I don’t know why I bother asking, but the word comes out before I can stop it.

He steps forward and slides into one of the chairs I have across from me. I can feel my heart thundering and my nerves becoming more frayed. Discomfort is too small a word for what I’m experiencing right now.

 

“I thought it’d be pretty obvious after the concert,” he tells me a little smugly. His overconfident attitude is returning. Evidently, he finds my stunned silence amusing. “I’m in love with you, Chris. Always have been.”

My heart is beating so hard I swear it’s going to break through my ribs. My body tingles and my vision’s blacking out just a bit. For some reason, I feel like I’m about to faint. I’ve never had someone tell me they were in love with me before, let alone someone for whom I feel the same.

My head is swimming and speech is beyond me. I can do little more than stare back at Adam without any real expression, and evidently, I do it for a while because his confident smile begins to fade. After a few minutes, the two of us are just staring at each other without speaking. The air in my office turns stifling and soon my discomfort has spread to both of us. I can see him moving in his seat and no matter how much I want to say something––anything––I physically can’t.

“I guess,” he finally says after who-knows-how-long of not speaking, “I should probably go.” Adam pushes himself to his feet and heads for the door. It isn’t until he actually opens it that I seem to snap out of my stupor.

“Wait,” I say quickly. He pauses and turns just enough to look at me, but he doesn’t let go of the door handle. I gradually get to my feet and step around the desk, moving slowly as though those few seconds will somehow help me gather my thoughts. “Are you sure?” I ask when I’m standing in the middle of the room. “That you lo…” I can’t even get the word out, but he knows what I’m asking.

 

His lips twitch briefly into a smile. Adam lets go of my weighted door and it closes as he turns to face me completely. Sliding his hands into his pockets, he replies, “Pretty sure.” The hint of sarcasm isn’t lost on me.

“Why?” Now that I’m able, I wish I would stop talking. The part of my brain responsible for intelligent speech seems to be on vacation at the moment, so only the stupid bits are coming out.

Still grinning, Adam casually strolls towards me. “You kidding?” he teases lightly. He finally stops within arm’s reach. I have to crane my neck to look up at him. “You’re perfect.” Heat fills my face and I know I’m blushing. Evidently, he likes it because his smile broadens and he reaches forward, tenderly running the back of his fingers along my cheek. “The real question is,” his voice is lower than before and a little gruffer, and I like it, “why’d it take my dumb ass so long to figure it out?”

I watch him as he examines my face, staring at me like he hasn’t seen me in years. There’s reverence in his eyes and a handful of other emotions I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone exhibit when they look at me. I don’t really know what to think, but I know how it makes me feel. I feel important and wanted … loved. In that moment, Adam makes me feel like I’m the only woman in the world, and it’s an incredible sensation.

Eventually, his sapphire eyes meet mine again and I watch them darken just a bit. I’ve seen that look before and it makes me shudder. He speaks softly. “Should I go?”

The thought he might leave lasts only a millisecond, but it actually frightens me. I don’t want him to leave, not again. Not ever.

“No.”

Adam smiles again before dipping forward and pressing his lips to mine. I melt into his chest and feel the heat of his body pour into mine as I wrap my arms around his neck. Adam deepens the kiss, sweeping his tongue across mine as he does. I thread my fingers through his hair and hold him as close as possible.

We kiss one another with growing fervor for countless minutes before air becomes thin and we have no choice but to part. Regardless, we both refuse to put actual space between us. Instead, he presses his forehead to mine and cradles me to his chest.

“I’ve missed you,” I say on a breath.

His body immediately relaxes against mine and a relieved sigh brushes past my lips. Evidently, he was as worried about what would happen as I was.

“I love you, Christina,” he whispers.

An invigorating chill runs down my back. He’s never called me Christina before, and even though I don’t go by my full first name, I could listen to him call me that a thousand times.

“I love you, too.” It’s the first time I’ve ever said those words out loud or willingly admitted to myself that I’m in love with Adam, and I feel an immeasurable weight lifted from my shoulders when I do. Adam lunges forward and kisses me again, almost desperately. I happily reciprocate.