Adam's List (26 page)

“Thanks to Brooklyn, the ex-roommate. She was studying to be an actress. I got tired of her going to parties where she hoped to get noticed by some sleazy producer or studio exec. My schedule wouldn’t always allow me to go along, so I acted like a dick and told her it was the parties or me. It was hard not to get jealous. I loved her, but it wasn’t enough. Now I wish I would’ve made different choices. Not because she was featured on
Saturday Night Live
, though the after parties would’ve been
so
kick-ass, but because I miss her. She could be pretty bossy and high maintenance, but I miss everything else and would do anything to get a second chance. I guess I took advantage of having her in my life. I actually thought we’d end up getting married one day.”

I lean back to study Theo’s handsome features, a wide grin spreading across my lips. I never would’ve guessed this insanely hot guy would turn out to be so sweet and big-hearted. There must be different degrees of love at first sight because I’ve fallen for him as a friend nearly as fast as I fell for Adam sexually and soulfully the very first time we met.

“You seem like a pretty stellar act.” I pull on his crooked tie, pretending to straighten it. “I’m sure it won’t be long until you find at least
one
keeper among the millions of women who live in this city.”

“Are you absolutely
sure
you’re in love with this guy?” He narrows his eyes, lit with mischief. “You and me...just
imagine
the possibilities! Our children would be one tier above the greek gods.”

“If only we had met a few months ago. Then
maybe
, although I apparently have a thing for the sickly type.” I rest my hand on his chest with a sad smile. “It means a lot that you were here for me. Really. If you hadn’t showed up for me to slobber all over your shoulder, who
knows
where I would’ve ended up.”

“You seem like a good kid. It’d be a shame to see you fall apart over this guy.” He pulls a sleek, leather wallet from inside his suit jacket, leaving a $10 bill on the table for his last beer. “I’ll walk you back. You let him know you’re in this for whatever it’s worth. If you can work it out, I’d still love to take you both out tonight. The party’s going to be off the hook, I promise.”

“Okay, now that I’ve cried on your shoulder, it seems like we can bypass the polite talk.” I tilt my head. “What
exactly
do you do for a living?”

“I’m a producer for AMC.”

“Seriously?”

He gestures to his suit. “If I was joking, I wouldn’t be able to afford this suit.”

I scoot over to kiss his warm cheek.

His eyes widen in surprise. “What’s
that
for?”

“Just...thanks.”

He stands, holding his hand out for me with a bright smile. “Better wait to thank me later,
after
I’ve shown you the time of your life.”

The brownstone is dead silent, as if there’s a shroud of gloom spread across it. My feet squeak against the wooden stairway as I climb to the top, calling Adam’s name.

When he doesn’t answer, fear pulsates through my veins. What if he ran off? What if he thinks I left him for good? What if he collapsed somewhere?

“
Adam?”
I call out again, my voice elevated with panic. “Adam, where are you?”

I check his bedroom. He’s not there, but his things are still scattered everywhere. At least he didn’t pack up and leave. Maybe he’s out looking for me.

I don’t know why I didn’t think to look on the balcony, but that’s where I find him, red-eyed, staring out at our diverse neighborhood. His head hangs low, his shoulders slumped. He looks awful, but I’m still glad to see him. I’m glad he stayed.

“Hey,” I squeak from the doorway, popping my head out.

His head darts in my direction, his eyes closing in a silent prayer of thanks.

“I’m sorry I ran off without telling you where I was going. You dropped quite the load on me. I just needed time to think, and...
deal
. Can you come inside for a minute?”

Standing slowly, he dips his head before following me inside. I hear the door close and wheel around, rushing at him. I stop when we’re only a heartbeat apart, staring at him for a moment, hoping he can see in my eyes the compassion ripping through me. I pull at the bottom of his t-shirt, and he doesn’t stop me. I’m careful when I pull it over his arms, lifting it off over his head. His hands return to his side.

I run my fingers over his scars, touching him lightly as if he’ll break from my touch. I hear his shuddering breaths, but my eyes don’t leave the evidence of traumas he’s endured. I lower down, holding his hips as my lips brush over each incision with soft resolve. His fingers settle inside my hair, cradling me to his trembling stomach. I stop to look up at him, one hand pressed to his wounds and the other reaching for his hand.

“I
love you,
Adam. I tried to pretend that it was nothing more than casual sex between us, but I care about you so much I feel as if I’ll burst every time you look at me.

If you won’t let me help you, it won’t change anything. It won’t change the fact that you’re branded in my heart forever. It won’t change the fact that I want to be with you, however long you want that to be. I’m yours.”

He brings me back to my feet. Our eyes latch as he brushes my hair behind my shoulders then cradles my face in his hands. The kisses start slow and gentle, each of us tenderly touching the other with meaning and grace. I try to lose myself in the smell of his sweet breath, the caress of his tongue, the taste of his mouth, but I can’t stop wondering how many times we’ll have left to do this, how many days before he becomes too sick to continue on. Soon I’m crying softly against him.

Adam pulls away slowly, drying my tears with his thumbs. “Do you want to stop?”

“I want you to make love to me,” I whisper, shaking my head. “For
real
this time.”

He scoops me up into his arms. There’s a strained look in his eyes, reminding me he’s weak. I loop my arms around his neck and kiss him as we pass the kitchen and enter his room.

He lowers me to the mattress, breaking the connection of our mouths to undress me.

His fingers are tender and slow as they remove my shirt and shorts, then my frilly panties and laced bra. Once I’m completely naked, exposing all my imperfections for him to see for the first time, he takes me in like I’m an art piece at a gallery. His hands follow my every curve, sending my nerves on edge. He stops to kiss every part he touches. His lips circle each of my breasts, the tip of his tongue teasing my nipples before he sucks them in gently.

His mouth continues down, covering each pocket of cellulite I’ve stressed over, the stretch marks at my thighs from when I lost my freshman fifteen. His mouth hovers between my legs, pausing before giving me a kiss down there that’s warm and light.

Soft moans fill my throat when his tongue dances against me. My hips rise and fall with his kisses and my fingers curl up inside his supple hair.

“
Adam
,” I purr softly. “
Please
. I want all of you.”

He stops all at once, staring up at me from between my thighs. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

I bring him up to unbutton his shorts and remove them along with his boxers, pushing them down his legs. I push him on to his back, taking my turn to touch and kiss every part of him as he did to me. He’s already hard from exploring my body, but I don’t want to rush things. I don’t want this intimate moment between us to turn so hot that we’re only repeating the steamy scene on the bus, even though it was pretty damn good.

“Has anyone else ever seen all of you like this?” I ask, my fingertips brushing over his scars.

The lump in his throat bobs before he shakes his head. “Only you.”

I lean down to kiss them again, as if my lips could somehow heal them. If only we lived in a world filled with real magic. If only there was a way to fix Adam, cure him of his diabetes and give us a fighting chance. I’d even settle for a way to make him realize the transplant is worth the risk, to give us more time together.

“These scars, they don’t matter. They don’t change the fact that you’re still the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Seeing you here...now...I can’t believe this is really happening. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“You have my heart, too, you know,” he manages, tenderly brushing his fingers against my cheeks.

I crawl back up to him, pressing my lips to his mouth. He rolls me over to take the top position, stopping to kiss the curve of my neck, the hollow of my collar bone. “I love you,” he whispers against my skin. “So much it hurts.”

I bring his mouth back to mine. The kisses go on for an eternity, but they’re still never enough. Every moment I have left with Adam will never be enough. Preparing to make love to him feels like just one of many goodbyes that are to come.

He stops to grab a condom from his shorts on the floor. I stroke his thighs and watch as he rolls it on. I’m holding back tears when he positions himself over me, waiting for my permission, waiting for me to accept him for what he is. Loving and broken.

“Yes,” I plead, digging my fingers into his back. “I can’t wait any longer.”

And then he fills me, slowly, drawing the motion out as we watch each other. No one has ever looked at me the way Adam does, so compassionate and filled with respect.

I’ve never felt love so deep it literally steals my breath. I gasp when he thrusts into me, hard and eager. His mouth covers my lips over and over, as if to breathe life back into them.

“I love you,” I say, cupping his face in my hands. “Nothing will ever change that.”

Tears run from my eyes into my hair. Adam brushes them away as he rocks against me, over and over, his eyes never closing, never looking away unless he’s trying to kiss my tears away. Kissing my forehead. Kissing my eyelids. Kissing my cheeks. My mouth.

Keeping his kisses gentle, both his tongue and strokes languid.

He groans into my ear as he climaxes, his muscles tense as he quivers in my arms. I bury my face in his chest to cry privately, but he won’t let me rest.

“I want you to finish, too,” he says, sinking his face back down to my tender spot.

Though he takes his time just as he did when we made love, I’m nearly there and it doesn’t take long before I buckle beneath him, crying out his name and finding my own euphoria.

As I lay in Adam’s arms, I’m filled with love, and ecstasy, and a peace that comes with loving someone so wholly who loves me back, knowing I’ve given him everything I have to offer. The only thing left to do is hope he’ll come to his senses and realize our love is worth fighting for. I can’t help but wonder, knowing what lies ahead, if I’ve made a colossal mistake by giving him my heart. Because unless I can convince him to undergo the surgery, going back from here will be impossible.

FOURTEEN

Once the pretenses are dropped and we’ve resolved to be together no matter how things will end, there’s a hesitant vibe created that we try our hardest to ignore.

Whenever I try to bring up the transplant or ask questions about his condition, he withdraws. Whenever I show concern over how he’s growing weak, he gives me the cold shoulder. I learn to hold the subject as taboo despite my nagging resolve to make him change his mind.

The next couple of days we go on a whirlwind tour of the city with Theo as our guide, hitting some swanky and rather obscure places I hadn’t heard of. He surprises us the first day with a private helicopter ride over Manhattan and the other four boroughs.

While I don’t hate the stunning aerial view it provides, the heights thing has me clutching Adam’s hand so tightly that I leave indentations in his skin. The next day we tour through an old underground tunnel that was once occupied by pirates and street gangs, then check out the public library before catching a high-end burlesque show in which an ex-girlfriend of Theo’s is the star.

Having Theo along, acting a buffer so I don’t have to engage in small talk with Adam, turns out to be delightfully accommodating since it’s downright impossible to carry on like nothing’s out of sorts with the recently revealed truth hanging over our heads.

The next day Theo’s too busy working to play tour guide, so I’m left in charge. I admit it’s probably out of sheer panic to avoid the truth when I grab us a taxi to Central Park, and announce we’re going to crash as many activities we come across as possible. We spend the day sampling more than one birthday cake, playing semi-professional frisbee, walking dogs, hanging in random couches by the large fountain, and learning how to play acoustic guitar. The constant action is enough to make us forget our worries, even smiling and laughing with each other.

The following day when we visit Coney Island, it starts out like a dream date. It’s hard not to get caught up in the excitement of the crowd enjoying the sun and sand. We hit each of the amusement park rides, and I eat cotton candy until I’m sick to my stomach. Adam wins me a stuffed puppy by scoring a basket through an undersized hoop, and we spend an excessive amount of time hanging out underneath an umbrella on the beach. Then the fun takes a spiral nose dive when Adam nearly passes out. He won’t let me do anything, and shuffles to a vending machine for a can of pop, downing it in nearly one swallow. I stand by watching him, horrified. I noticed earlier that he was sweating and his hand felt rather clammy, but didn’t say anything, knowing it would only set him off.

In the days to come, Adam grows increasingly weaker. Our days end sooner and involve rides through the city on the red double decker buses. We still make love in the brownstone at least once per day at Adam’s insistence, even though he seems completely wiped and I’m majorly conflicted, questioning why I continue to go along with his denial. It’s a dangerous line between caring and knowing I have to back away if I don’t want to scare him off. It’s a dangerous line between letting him live his life and watching him throw it away.

Theo invites us over nearly every night. We drink beer under the twinkling lights in his backyard, sometimes with his buddies and their girlfriends. One night the three of us even fall asleep there during the early morning hours, Adam and I nestled together in the couch across from Theo. It’s easy to pretend this is our life and that everything’s going to have a happy ending unless Adam has a particularly bad day, or I see the dullness creeping into his gaze, reminding me our time is limited.