Adam's List (15 page)

“Thanks. Ready to go?”

“You have to leave?” Mom asks, looking back and forth between us. “Now?”

“Class starts at nine,” I say, reaching for my bag and cell phone. Adam promptly takes my bag away, slinging it over his shoulder.

Mom glances at her watch. “Well, I suppose I can make it back to work before the mid-morning meeting.” She holds her hands out to Adam, smiling. “It was certainly a pleasure meeting you, Adam.” As she leans in for a hug, he gawks at me, helpless. I hide a fit of giggles behind my hand.

“You too, Mrs. Peterson,” Adam tells her, patting her back.

She moves on to hug me. “Next time I expect more communication, young lady.”

She squeezes me so tightly, I can hardly breathe. I actually feel a little guilty for making her worry like that. When she pulls away, I nod.

“I’ll call more,” I promise.

A few feet from the door, she turns to point at Adam, her bracelets clanging together.

“Take care of my baby.”

“I will,” he promises, glancing at me. Butterflies invade my stomach.

“Talk soon!” Mom calls to me, blowing a kiss.

The minute she closes the door, I fall to the couch with my hands over my eyes and blow out a long breath. “Oh my god, that was awkward. I hope she didn’t try to grab your ass while I was in the shower.”

Adam sets my bag down, chuckling. “She seems harmless.” He sits down at my side. “Are you really doing better? You had me pretty freaked out when you wouldn’t answer the door all day yesterday.”

Suddenly, I remember his cold rejection, and freeze up. “I was sleeping. I’m fine.”

His fingers touch my elbow. “Jewels, I want to explain why I acted that way.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I insist, jerking away, looking past him. “I’m over it.”

“No.” He brushes my cheek with his thumb. My skin blazes from his touch, sending shivers down to my core. “I was a total ass to you, and you don’t deserve that.” He brings his hand back down to rest on his knee and bends down like he’s trying to catch his breath. After a minute, both his hands brush over the back of his neck before he clasps them together on top of his head. “I’ve been trying to figure out the best way to do this without hurting you, but every scenario I come up with still ends badly.”

“I’m confused. I thought we were having a good time hanging out, and you’re already dooming whatever chances we may have together. Why are you so afraid of hurting me? How do you know I’m not going to be the one to hurt
you
?”

His hands come down to rub at his face, carefully avoiding the black eye he got at my expense. “Remember when you said we don’t have to tell each other everything right away, because we’ll have time to get to know each other better on this trip,
if
you decide to go?”

A heavy pressure blankets my chest. Is he going to un-invite me after I accepted? I nod, knowing he’s about to reveal something monumental. And I doubt from the look on his face that I’ll like any part of it.

He licks his lips slowly, his eyes steady against mine. “There’s something I should tell you, but I’ve been avoiding it because it will change everything between us. I don’t want you to treat me any differently. And you
will
.”

Dozens of different scenarios rush at me as I stare back at him. No matter how hard I try, I can’t come up with anything that would make me run away and never want to see him again. He has to be one of the goddamned sweetest guys I’ve ever met. All the things I’m able to envision he probably wouldn’t even be capable of. I bite down on my lip before building up enough courage to answer.

“What do you want me to say to that? Go ahead and tell me anyway? Don’t tell me?

For a dude you sure send out a lot of mixed signals.”

A shy, modest smile twitches across his face. “I want you to say that you don’t think I’m an asshole for wanting to keep things the way they are.”

“Would you quit calling yourself an asshole? I don’t think you truly comprehend what that word means!” I ache to reach out and loop my fingers with his again, to feel that familiar charge that will electrify me all the way down to my bones. But in this moment I’m worried he’ll decide to bolt from the room again like he did the other day. “I don’t understand why you’re so sure this big secret of yours will come between us. Whatever it is, we can work around it.”

“It’s not as easy as that.” His eyes flicker down to my hands, as if he’s feeling the same pull to touch
me
. “Damn it, I wish it was.”

We sit still for a moment, each of us being consumed by our thoughts. I’m too far invested in my feelings for him to just walk away, even though I should. He doesn’t want things to change between us, so why should I push him into something he doesn’t want to do? Whatever secret he’s keeping may be dangerous enough to tear us apart. And above everything else, I don’t want that.

“I trust you,” I blurt. “Whatever it is, it’s
your
secret to keep or share. I don’t want things to change either. I don’t want to lose you.”

He lifts his chin, his steel blues hopeful. “Wait. Are you sure?”

“No, I’m not sure.” I bounce from the couch, my anxiety levels through the roof. What if he just keeps changing his mind, and pushes me further and further away? “If it’s the only way for us to go on this trip together, I’m willing to try. I can’t promise anything, but
you
have to promise you won’t hurt me again like that.”

“You’re really willing to try?” His eyebrows shoot up. “As
friends
?”

I balk, wondering if I’m truly capable of keeping things that way. He’s everything a girl could ever want in a boyfriend—sweet, caring, funny, and a
phenomenal
kisser. The memory of his lips rests on the edge of this decision, tempting me to draw him in for another kiss. Making me want to pull his shirt off, and touch him, find out if he’s just as good of a lover.

Pushing the thoughts back to the corner of my mind, I nod. “Okay, fine. As friends.”

I’ll do whatever it takes to appease him, because at this point, I can’t stand the thought of letting him go.

The next week we finalize plans for our trip whenever I’m not in class, at work, or studying for finals, which doesn’t leave a whole lot of extra time. Still, we manage to map our route, create a loose schedule, and prepare a list of the supplies we’ll need.

Things are light and playful between us amid our building excitement. Most of the time we meet in the library after my shift, other times we hang at the dining hall on campus.

Even though I get the feeling Adam could afford for us to stay in hotels the entire summer, we agree to camp out in the back of his cousin’s pickup for a few nights here and there, an idea I got from Pinterest when researching how to save money traveling.

I’ve never really been the outdoorsy kind, and the thought of camping out on the actual ground makes me squeamish.

The promise of maintaining a strict friendship feels like a third person at times. After knowing what it feels like to kiss Adam, I have all I can do to remind myself not to touch him, not to let him see the ache in my gaze. I purposely avoid sitting too close, or letting my eyes stay on him for long. Kelly sees me struggling and volunteers to join us a few times, hoping to alleviate the sexual tension.

I steer him far away from my dorm room, knowing I probably can’t trust myself to be alone with him unless Kelly happens to be around. One night we stop by the rundown house his buddy lives in so Adam can grab something from his belongings. I stand in the living room, careful not to touch the visibly dirty walls or cross the uneven floorboards. The sight of pathetic, worn-out couch he’s been sleeping on makes me glad I let him crash in my bed after I was drugged. After I meet the owner of the house, a little guy with a bad complexion who laughs at everything, I develop a whole new level of sympathy for Adam. If his parents have so much money, why is he crashing with a friend and not renting an apartment?

All the time we spend learning about each other’s lives—regrets, mannerisms, likes and dislikes—I’m positive I made the right choice in agreeing to this trip. Even the silence that sometimes passes between us is a thing of comfort. By the time the next weekend rolls around, however, I’m convinced I won’t be able to continue on much longer without letting things go too far.

Friday night we grab pizza at Kate’s. While waiting for our order, I tap my foot anxiously against my chair, twisting a straw rapper around my fingers.

“Hey.” Adam touches my arm across the round table, electrifying me. It only proves how difficult it’s going to be for us to sleep so close together every night.
Alone
. “You sure you don’t want me to come along tomorrow?”

“My mom may have been charmed by you, but you haven’t met my dad.” I stop fidgeting to meet his gaze. “He’s going to be a much harder sell.” Going home to ask my parents to let me take this trip in person seems the only way to go. I should’ve asked weeks ago, considering classes will be over soon, but I’ve spent all this time working up the courage.

My dad thinks it’s too soon for serious dating, and my mom most likely won’t like the last minute notice that I’m not going to be working for her this summer. I don’t think
either
of them will understand that Adam and I are doing this as friends. Especially when I’m not behind the idea myself.

“At least let me give you a ride. You just seem really...stressed.”

It would come as a great relief to tell Adam exactly
why
I’m so stressed, that I feel like an alcoholic with a drink hanging over my head every time I see him. But as close as we are to leaving, I’m not ready to risk it. Having him drive me there sounds kind of nice, so I nod. “Okay, fine. But I get to control the radio.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

If he only knew how wild it drives me every time he flashes his radiant smile, or stares back at me in a way that’s so sexy it makes my toes curl. As our eyes meet, I shudder.

Adam parks by the curb, staring at the two-story monstrosity I called home for seven years. The light yellow house with stone accents and a sloped red roof suddenly looks cold and empty from outside. Maybe it’s because I know despite having four bedrooms, only two people occupy it now. My mom was the brains behind the intricate Spanish design. For years she invested all her time and effort into the place, making meetings with the builders and subcontract workers a priority over my school events and family time. A part of me has always hated the house, mostly because it took up so much of her time that she could’ve spent with me.

Though it’s just on the other side of the city, I haven’t stopped by since Christmas.

Sometimes it’s too hard to be where memories of Jason by my side lurk in every room, making it impossible to breathe at times.

“Great place,” Adam comments.

“The inside’s just as obnoxious, I swear.”

Adam lets out a small chuckle. “Remind me never to take you to my place.”

Once again I’m perplexed by Adam’s reluctance to let me anywhere near his family. I already know they’re wealthy, so it wouldn’t surprise me they own a sprawling estate.

But the voice of reason returns, reminding me there are darker secrets that Adam’s keeping from me. Maybe his home is a part of that.

I wrap my hand around the door handle. “I’ll call you when I’m ready for a ride. It probably won’t be until later tonight. My mom makes a big deal out of having a family dinner whenever I stop by.”

“I’ll be ready whenever you are.” I turn to step out of the car. Adam reaches out to stop me. “Hey.”

My heart races, thinking he’s going to say “screw it” and kiss me. Or he’s going to beg to come along so he can hold my hand as I break the news to my parents.

But his hand drops into his lap as he grins. “Good luck.”

As the routine goes on my dad’s days off from flying, he’s sitting at the marble island on one of the leather stools, reading the Saturday paper. His peppered blond hair looks like it’s been recently trimmed, and a new pair of black glasses set off his bright blue eyes. On the outside he’s your stereotypical handsome pilot who always looks serious and can’t be cracked, but underneath the prim and proper look, he’s an up and coming stand-up comedian. Plus, he babies me. A lot.

Mom slaves over the mixer across from him, wearing her frilly apron over a fashionable tunic and black leggings, chatting rapidly about someone I assume to be one of her new employees. From the sweet smell in the air, I’d guess she’s cooking up her famous blueberry muffins, probably in preparation for tomorrow morning’s weekly brunch with her friends. My dad hums in response, probably not hearing a word she says.

For a moment I stand in the kitchen entryway, wishing things could be like they were five years ago, before everything became so complicated. But my dad’s newly sprouted gray hair and the hard lines of my mom’s eyes are a reminder that my high school days are over, and I’m supposed to be a grown up now. Time has continued on despite my desire for it to stop.

“Hey,” I say quietly, stepping into the room.

They both gape back at me, like they’ve been slapped.

“Jewels!” Dad folds the paper down, his expression bright. “What brings you here?”

“Sweetheart,” Mom chimes in, stepping away from the mixer. Her arms wrap around me carefully like she’s afraid I’ll break if she gives me a genuine hug. “Everything okay?” All at once I’m reminded of the worried glances she gave me after I was drugged. She steps back, giving me the same distraught look.

“I’m good,” I promise, setting my purse on the island to give my dad a hug. “Can’t I just come home for a day without there being something wrong?”

Dad kisses me on the cheek before pulling me in for a much stronger hug. “We’re just surprised is all.” When I pull back from him, I catch him giving Mom a stern look.

Mom returns to my side, running her hands through my loose hair. Her lips turn down in a scowl. “You should’ve called. We have a gala tonight.”

I try not to let her see me take a deep breath. All week I’ve been dreading spending an entire day alone with my parents, knowing the questions they’d have, the deep conversations that would ensue once I told them the real reason for stopping by. And my fears were for nothing.