Remembering Us (19 page)

When I turn to him, I’m thankful we didn’t have any drinks tonight. The pull I felt last night is even stronger when I can feel all my senses.

The callused pads of his fingers as they trail down my arm before lacing our hands together, the smell of his cologne. It’s so powerful, and I stare at him, nodding, even though I’m no longer sure if he even asked me a question.

He smiles at me like he knows how flustered I am.

And I bet he does.

“Let’s go,” he says, and tugs me out the door, barely giving me enough time to grab my purse before following him out the door.

I kick off my boots and drop my purse on the floor as soon as we get to our apartment and head for the fridge for some water. When I turn around, Adam is standing in front of the windows looking out at the dark night sky with his hands in his front pockets. He looks lost in thought, and I frown, watching him.

He turns to me and rubs his lips together. “I need to tell you something.”

I freeze.

The plastic top of the water bottle stops at my bottom lip and I can’t take my eyes off him. His face is downcast, staring at the slightly stained carpet, and his shoulders are rounded forward.

“Okay.”

“Sit down on the couch.”

I bristle at the coldness of his voice, but he doesn’t notice.

Adam doesn’t look at me at all. He turns back to the windows and stares out in the darkness that is sprinkled with street lights, but not enough light to really see anything.

I settle on the couch furthest from him and pull my knees up to my chest, hugging them with my arms.

Somehow I feel the need to protect myself from whatever is coming my way.

He blows out a forced breath through his lips and rubs his hands through his hair. I can see him looking at my reflection in the window, but I don’t think he’s trying to see me. He looks like he’s trying to avoid me completely.

When he speaks, his voice breaks; tripping over the words.

“When I was ten, I watched my dad kill my mom.”

My mouth drops open and freezes in a perfect “o” shape. Nerves dance across my skin. I unwrap my arms from my knees, shaking them out, but it doesn’t take away the buzzing feeling that’s moving all over me.

“What?” I croak, and Adam shakes his head.

Slowly, Adam pulls his eyes to mine as silence falls into every corner of our apartment. He sees my fear written all over my face and I catch a glimpse of a similar look in his own. His voice breaks and from across the open space I see his eyes fill with tears.

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you … not when …”

“I’m not sure I trust you,” I finish for him.

He blanches at my bluntness and then nods. “You thought I hurt you that night. With Jared. How am I supposed to tell you where I come from when you think I’m as evil as the man who created me?”

I bite my bottom lip, trying to find something to say to ease his concern. I can’t though. He’s absolutely right.

“Tell me what happened.”

He closes his eyes, sighs, and then slowly walks toward me on the couch. I scoot back to the end of the couch until I hit the armrest while he takes a few more steps closer.

He presses his tongue against his teeth then takes a seat on the love seat across from me. I feel both relief and regret as I watch him sit down with such a pained expression all over him.

“My dad was a drunk and he beat my mom. A lot.”

He swallows, and I see the ghosts of his past dancing across his eyes.

“He came home one night, blaming her for losing his job. They argued and he threw her down the stairs.” Tears drop down his cheek shamelessly, and my feet are moving before I can tell them to stop.

I take a seat next to him, placing my hand over his. He smiles sadly at my hand and then looks me in the eyes.

“She broke her neck and died instantly. He went to prison and my mom’s parents took me in.”

I squeeze my hand against his, offering him the smallest amount of comfort I can.

If it were anyone else, I’d have my arms wrapped around them, but I can’t do it.

He looks straight into my eyes, reading my mind.

“I am
not
my dad, Amy. I have a quick trigger temper, and I may get mad and throw something, but I have not and will never hurt you.”

I look down at our hands, the intensity in his eyes is too much for me to handle. I’m calm, I think.

Somehow, even when I’m afraid, his touch has calmed me. But he’s also right because I don’t trust him. Not fully.

I don’t know how those two things can happen at the same time.

I blink back the tears of confusion swirling in my head.

He looks wary, suspicious and frightened at the same time. He lets me see it all, and I am thankful. This is the most honest and open we have been with one another and it hasn’t ended in an argument. I will take the victory.

I nod and a faint hint of a smile touches my lips. “Okay.”

A line appears between his eyes. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” I blow out a slow breath. “Did you tell me this before?”

His eyes shift around the room.

By now I know there’s something he’s hiding from me, something he’s not telling me, but I allow it tonight because I can see how painful it is for him to bring up the small amount he told me.

“I did. And then your parents found out and wanted you to leave me. Said I wasn’t good enough for you.” He smiles sadly. “I can’t say I blame them. I’m not. But I’m also smart enough to never want you to go.”

“Is that why they don’t like you?”

“Probably. I never cared too much about what they thought as long as it didn’t change what you thought.”

“Did it? I mean, I’m here, but yet, they won’t even talk to me anymore.”

Adam squeezes my hand and I turn to him so I’m facing him completely. His thumb lightly brushes over the knuckles on my skin, warming it and sending a different buzzing sensation through me.

“I think,” he starts and rubs one hand through his hair. “I think they’re more resigned than anything. They knew I wasn’t leaving and they got tired of arguing with you about it.”

I consider this and it only takes me a second to realize he’s probably telling the truth.

The backing down doesn’t sound much like my parents to me, but maybe my mom’s way of refusing to return to my recent calls and her silence at dinner is her way of punishing me. Like when she didn’t talk to me about quitting dance.

“Come on,” Adam says, and pulls me to my feet before I can dwell it for too long. “It’s late and I didn’t mean to drop this all in your lap tonight.”

I follow him down the hall, stopping at my doorway before staring at the door to his room – our old room.

“Why did you then?”

“Because you deserve the truth, and I don’t want to lose you because I’m too afraid the truth will set your recovery further back.”

I smile meekly. “Thank you.”

And then I do something I don’t have to think about. I take a step forward and gently press my lips against his. It’s a quick kiss, and I barely feel his soft skin on mine before I step back.

“Um …” I say, and nervously play with the hem of my tank top. “Yeah. Good night.”

Adam bites his bottom lip and smiles. There’s a heat in his eyes and a playfulness in his look that says maybe he’s relishing his own small victory of the night.

I duck into my room before I do something embarrassing like throw my arms around him just to feel his hard muscles against my skin again.

Unfortunately, I’m too restless to sleep. I lay in bed for hours, tossing and turning. Every time I close my eyes, I think of what Adam told me about his parents and his dad. About how he was raised and somehow I understand the small things I know about him. I understand maybe why he sought love and attention from women, not caring how he treated girls. I understand his anger and the drinking.

It’s all he’s ever known. I see glimpses of a man that could mean he’s trouble. Yet, I’m no longer afraid of him.

Not for my safety, anyway.

I just don’t trust him. My head might, but my heart doesn’t.

But for the first time, I truly
want
to.

He’s opening up to me in a way that I can tell is difficult for him. I can see it in the tenseness of his shoulders and the tightness of his lips when he thinks about his dad or relives the things I remember. He hates that I’ve seen him like that.

And I hate that after a night of sharing what has to be difficult for him to talk about, I’ve left him alone.

I don’t want him to be alone tonight any more than I’m tired of always feeling alone.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I’m in the hallway and opening the door to the room I used to share with him.

The only light is coming through the openings in the cheap, plastic vertical blinds by the window. I haven’t stepped foot in this room since Adam brought me home from the hospital and I adamantly declared I wasn’t sleeping in here. Not in this room with a stranger.

I take another step into the room, the floor creaking underneath my feet, and Adam turns in the bed, facing the doorway.

He props himself up on one elbow and then jumps out of the bed.

“Ames? What is it?”

I shift the weight on my feet, suddenly embarrassed and nervous that I’m even in here.

“Did you have a dream?” he asks, and reaches for my arms.

I tense under his touch.

“No,” I say, my mouth and throat dry. I look into his eyes but all I see is the dark shadow of him in the room. I can’t tell what he’s thinking at all. “I was wondering if I could stay here.”

His hands squeeze my arms and then relax. “Why? Are you sure you’re okay?”

No, not really. I’m not. I don’t know why I’m here. Why I have a sudden urge to hold him and be close to him.

“I don’t want to be alone.”

He exhales loudly and I can see the outline of his shoulders relax. He rests his forehead on mine and wraps me in his arms.

“Of course you can stay with me.”

With my eyes closed, I let his deep and sleepy voice rumble over me, and my insides warm. I nod against him and move my arms so I can squeeze his hands.

He walks me to the empty side of my bed and pulls back the covers and then crawls into bed next to me.

“Can I hold you?” he asks, his voice as uncertain as I feel.

I turn over onto my side and let Adam lay down next to me, wrapping his arms around me, and pulling me to him.

“Thank you,” he murmurs into my hair, squeezing me tightly, just as I finally drift to sleep.

“What in the fuck did you do to him?”

I jump back at the venom in Zander’s voice. His anger pours out all over the place, filling the large entryway to the frat house. I’ve never seen his anger directed at me before. Hell, I’ve never seen anger like this from anyone before. Ever.

His piercings and tattooed arms that are crossed tightly over his chest scare the shit out of me.

“I … I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I jump at the sound of a loud crashing noise coming from upstairs and Zander glares at me.

“He’s going ballistic and the only thing I can think to piss him off this much – is you. So tell me what in the hell happened last night.” He leans forward into my personal space until I back up against a wall. “What did you do to him?”

“I didn’t do anything!” I scream, and take off toward the stairway, taking them two at a time, scared out of mind as to why Adam would be so upset.

He can’t know that Brendan tried to kiss me again. I kneed him in the balls in the back hallway and there’s no way Brendan would tell him unless he wants to get his ass kicked.

Unless … unless Brendan claims I hit on him.

Shit. I wouldn’t put it past him.

My body feels like it’s on fire as I reach the top floor.

The sounds from behind the doorway are terrifying and I jump as the sound of glass shattering reverberates into the hallway.

“Adam!” I yell at the same time I open his door. “What is
…
” My voice drops and hangs in mid-sentence when I survey the room in the front of me.