I drummed my index finger on the table and let out a deep breath. “I asked you to not call me that.” There was no denying it’d be a long evening.
A few minutes later Lyndsie returned with our drinks. “Would y’all like to hear our dinner special?”
“No,” I said as Adam interjected simultaneously, negating my answer.
“Would you quit prolonging this?” I glared at him.
“Come on. I’d love to hear about the amazing special this place has to offer.” Adam leaned back and stretched out his arms on either side of him, resting his elbows on the top of the shoulder-high bench cushion, his hands left dangling, relaxed. “We owe it to Mario’s best waitress here.”
“Ummm…well,” Lyndsie shifted her weight, uncomfortable, “we’ve got a seasonal pumpkin pasta with fennel, sausage, and toasted hazelnuts. It’s pretty rad.”
“That sounds interesting.” Adam adjusted his posture and folded his hands before flashing me a glance. “Now, what would you say about the mood of the pumpkin when you were in the kitchen?”
“The mood?” She blinked with confusion.
“Yeah, the mood. Does it look trustworthy? It’s not one of those white, ghost pumpkins that might disappear when you’re least expecting it to, is it?”
“I don’t know?” Lyndsie furrowed her brow. “It’s a squash.”
“Would you stop!” I snapped. “You’re embarrassing me.”
“What? I want to make sure I can expect my dinner won’t take off on me. It’s a valid question.”
It was my breaking point, and I’d had enough. I wasn’t proud of that moment, but I decided to stoop to Adam’s level. Our poor waitress would be the victim. “Speaking of trust, how’s the lasagna, Lyndsie? It’s supposed to be a comfort food, right?”
“I guess?” Lyndsie said.
“Would you say it’s consoling?” I narrowed my eyes at Adam. “Maybe even understanding in a horrible situation, even?”
“So, should I give y’all a few more minutes to look at the menu?” Lyndsie bit her lip, and it was clear she wanted to pass us off to the waiter across the way.
“I’ll make this easy. We’ll both have the lasagna. No doubt it’s perfect.” I smiled sweetly and handed her both our menus.
“And could I still get those crayons? Maybe a kid’s menu to draw on?” Adam shouted after her as she walked away.
“She’s gonna spit in our food, you know.”
Adam glared at me. “By the way, I hate lasagna.”
“Good.” I took a drink of my water and crunched an ice cube. “Are we going to talk about this job yet or what?” I asked. “Pretty sure Ty isn’t going to be impressed with how you’ve treated me so far.”
“How you’ve been treated? If that’s not the pot calling the kettle black, I don’t know what is.” Adam looked away. “Maybe I should order some Jack for this soda.”
Lyndsie headed toward us with a small box of crayons and an oversized kid’s menu with cartoon noodles on the front of it. I didn’t stare, but I was pretty sure she tiptoed until she reached our booth. Then, she tossed it all on the table as she practically ran off.
“Perfect!” Adam’s eyes lit up as he ignored me, immediately opening the little cardboard box, spilling four miniature crayons onto the table. It was clear he was about to be lost in his doodle. I fiddled with my straw wrapper, twisting it into the tightest coil possible.
He continued to ignore me.
I blew a lock of hair out of my face. “Seriously?”
“Seriously what?” He didn’t look up from the scrawl of blue crayon across the paper.
“You’re going to sit there and do a dot-to-dot puzzle or a maze instead of talking to me?”
He let out a laugh through his nose. “You suddenly want to talk? That’s new.”
“Would you knock it off and act your age for once?” Immediately, I regretted the words as I clamped my hand over my mouth. The combination of syllables was a low blow and I knew it.
“Act my age?” His grip tightened on the crayon as it broke in half. Rage flooded his face, and he swallowed hard. “Go to hell.”
My heart thudded as I watched Adam stand up.
He tossed the two pieces of blue crayon on the table and crumpled up the paper menu he’d been scribbling on without breaking eye contact with me. “Don’t do that, damn it. I hate it when you do that.”
I shrugged my shoulders and gave him a questioning look. “What?”
“That thing with your face.”
“What? When I exist? Where the hell do you think you’re going, anyway?” I snapped.
“The bar.” He pushed the sleeves of his worn leather jacket up his arms and stood up. “You know, to act my age and have a fucking beer. God knows I need one after being around you.”
“Way to run away, Rockwell,” I muttered.
He leaned over and braced his hands on the table, his face inches from mine. “Listen to what I’m about to say and you listen good. Don’t even try to pin this on me or say a damn word about me turning my back on you. I’m not the one who walked out on us two years ago. You are. Live with it.”
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 do
wn, 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.
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