by Kelly Oram
I clung to that promise. I couldn’t see the hope, but I was beginning to trust Adam, and I knew he wouldn’t lie to me. If he said it would get better, then it would.
He gazed at me a long moment, contemplating something, and then suddenly pulled the large gray hoodie he was wearing over his head. I wanted to ask him why he was getting undressed for me, but there was something about the way he stared down at the hoodie he now held in his lap that made me unable to tease him.
“This sweatshirt was my father’s,” he said quietly. “He split when I was little, and my mom went through the entire house and trashed everything that belonged to him. I found this sweatshirt under the couch about a week later, and I kept it. I hid it from my mom for years, afraid she’d take it from me if she found it. It’s the only thing of his I still have.”
Adam’s eyes were fixed on his father’s hoodie. Though I didn’t know why he was telling me such a personal story, I now understood the distant, sad, wistful look on his face. My heart broke for him.
As suddenly as I’d shoved my earrings at him, he held the sweatshirt out to me. “I want you to have this.”
The blood drained from my face. “What? Adam, no. I can’t take you father’s jacket from you.”
When he looked at me, I knew he would never relent. “Take it, Libby.”
I took it. There was no way to refuse him. But I still felt sick. “Why would you give this to me?”
He pierced me with another solemn gaze. “Because I want you to have something special—a real gift—and I can’t afford to buy you diamonds.”
I couldn’t make sense of the feelings that swept through me as I stared down at the treasure in my hands. It was just an old, worn-out hoodie, but knowing it was so important to Adam made it feel like the freaking Crown Jewels.
I knew I should give it back—I wanted to give it back—yet my fingers curled tightly around the material in a possessive grip. It took me a moment before I could speak. “Why would you do that for me? You barely know me. You don’t even like me.”
Adam looked away, seeming lost in thought. “I know you better than you think,” he muttered. When he turned back to me, he said, “I don’t like some of the choices you make, but I like you very much.”
My heart thumped. No one had ever shocked me more than Adam, and he seemed to do it multiple times a day. “That’s quite the distinction,” I whispered.
A hint of a smile flashed across his face so fast I wasn’t sure I’d actually seen it. “It’s the truth. And I know I said last night you didn’t ask me to be your friend, but if it’s okay, I’d still like to be one all the same.”
He waited, a hint of vulnerability in his expression, as if the statement had been more of a question and he needed confirmation of it.
I looked down at the sweater in my hands, and my chest tightened. I liked the thought of Adam wanting to be more than my sponsor. I liked it a lot. Finally, I grinned at him. “I’ve never had a friend quite like you before.”
Snorting, he glanced around my room again, his gaze pausing on the pile of cat shirts in front of him. A chuckle escaped him, and he flashed me that disarming smile of his that lit up his dark eyes, making them twinkle. “Me either, Libby. You’re one of a kind.”
We sat for a moment more, and the music switched to Elvis’s “Burning Love.” Adam cocked his head to the side, concentrating on the lyrics, and laughed again. I was glad for the break in tension. I finished throwing out my collection of sexy unmentionables and looked around the room. “That’s about it.”
Adam took a glance of his own and spied my freeboard among my pile of snowboarding stuff in my closet. It was just like with the snowboarding competition the day before. The minute his eyes fell on the board, his attention was completely derailed. “Go check it out,” I urged him.
He pounced on the thing like a kitten on a ball of yarn. Turning it this way and that, he inspected the wheels and bindings, stood on it and tested the feel of it. “You want to go give it a try?” I asked.
He’d been staring down at the board, but his head snapped up. “Seriously?”
For once, Adam didn’t look sexy. The excitement in his expression turned him straight up adorable. He was like Avery at a natural history museum. I smiled and rose to my feet. “Sure. Come on.”
Adam gave the board a longing look and shook his head. “Later. We’re busy right now.”
Geez. Crack the whip much? I sighed. I was over this purging thing already. “But that’s really everything. I told you, I didn’t have much.”
Adam’s eyes narrowed and focused on my legs. “What about that skirt?”
I glanced down at my outfit with a frown. “What about it?”
“You bought that skirt just to impress Owen, didn’t you?”
It’s true; I’d never braved the miniskirt until I started trying to get Owen to acknowledge me at school. That’s why I’d bought the top I was wearing, too. “Maybe,” I admitted grudgingly.
Adam smirked. “Then it has to go.”
My eyes popped open. “You want me to trash my skirt?”
“I want you to get rid of everything you bought just to impress that douchebag.”
“But I bought my whole current wardrobe just to impress Owen.”
After I admitted that I realized how pathetic it sounded, but Adam didn’t judge. Shrugging, he said, “Then it all has to go.”
He was completely serious. He shifted back into his badass bouncer stance as if there was no way he was letting me out of this room until I followed his orders. The inner feline in me wanted to defy him simply because he was trying to assert his dominance. Adam could tell too, and he was getting a kick out of it. His smirk doubled and he held out a hand. “The skank clothes, Libby. Hand ’em over.”
Well. Two could play at that game. If he wanted my clothes, he could have them. “Fine.” I yanked my skirt off and thrust it at him.
“Libby!” Adam whirled around, quickly turning his back to me. “What the hell are you doing?”
“You wanted my clothes,” I said, throwing my shirt over his head. “They’re all yours, Coffee Man.”
Adam pulled the clothes off his head, and when he realized he had my shirt as well as my skirt, the back of his neck flushed. “Such a gentleman,” I teased.
“I know it’s a concept you’re unfamiliar with,” he snapped.
Ouch. I hadn’t seen Mr. Cranky Pants even once today, but if Adam were facing me, he’d be shooting daggers at me. He’d been so awesome today I’d almost forgotten he could be a jerk sometimes. Trying to ignore the sting of his insult, I slipped on some clothes and grumbled, “You can turn around now. I’m dressed.”
I wanted to be mad at him, but when he turned around and saw me wearing the kitten tacos in space, he burst into laughter and flashed me a heart-melting smile. “Much better.”
I couldn’t have been angry with him if my life depended on it. Matching his smile, I tugged at the hem of my shirt. “You’re such a liar.”
His lighthearted laugh obliterated any and all negative feelings inside me and made my heart thump. He was sexy and broody and so masculine, but when his face lit up like that, there was something boyish about him. It was as if he always carried the weight of Jupiter on his shoulders, but for this one brief instant, all of that baggage was gone. For a minute he wasn’t Coffee Man; he was simply Adam. And Adam was adorable.
“Okay, it’s ugly,” he said. “But at least it’s you. Go back to your old wardrobe. Or get a new one that you buy just because you like it. I’m sure that’s one cause your parents would be willing to help you out with. Have Avery take you shopping. She’s been talking about wanting to give you a makeover for months.” His eyes drifted to my head and he smirked. “And for the sake of people’s eyes everywhere, turn your hair dark again.”
I cracked a smile even though I wanted to frown at the insult. I had to give him that one. “It is a bit blinding, isn’t it?”
Adam laughed. “It’s terrible.
”
I knew what he was doing, and I knew he meant well, but a girl can only take so much of a beating all at once. I sighed. “Okay, okay, I get it. The clothes will go, I promise. And the hair, too. Now stop criticizing me, and let’s outside. I want to see you skate.”
. . . . .
Adam and I took the garbage bag of the remaining Owen stuff out to the trash and headed out front to skate in the street for a while. The freeboard needed a hill and my street was pretty flat, so we decided to save that for another day and just use our skateboards for now. Adam watched me strap my cat-tastic helmet to my head, and then stopped me just as I was going to kick off on my board. “I didn’t mean to criticize you. I just wish you could see that you’re so much more beautiful the way God intended you. Especially when you’re being yourself. You are who you are. Own it.”
His voice was soft and bleeding with sincerity, but my stomach churned.
“You have to believe it, Libby. You have to love yourself if you want others to love you, too.”
We’d been having so much fun this afternoon. The atmosphere had been light. Why did he have to go and ruin it? My throat burned, and my eyes threatened to produce tears of frustration. Adam was dangerous. He had a way of breaking through my defenses and giving me hope with all his optimism and motivational speeches, but he didn’t understand. He could never really understand what it was like to be me.
Glaring at him, I threw my walls back up, unwilling to let him dissolve my defenses. I couldn’t afford the vulnerability. “Preaching is easier than believing, Coffee Man. You tell me to just be myself and love the way I look, but you aren’t the one who has to live with the laughter and snide remarks. I look in the mirror and I don’t see myself. I see all the looks people give me in swim class when I have to be in a bathing suit in front of everyone. I hear the comments they make to me when I eat lunch in the cafeteria. It doesn’t even matter whether the food is healthy or not. That’s hard to ignore. And it’s hard not to believe when it’s all I ever hear.”
A look of pain flashed across Adam’s face, but he quickly pushed it aside with determination. “Then hear this, Libby Garrett: You. Are. Beautiful.” He stepped right up to me until our toes touched, filling my personal space with his warm, solid body. His voice dropped the hard edge, softening along with his expression. “The next time you look in a mirror, I want you to see the fact that your big hazel eyes are captivating.”
The passion he threw into the word was enough to make me remember the compliment for the rest of my life, but he wasn’t finished. Not even close. “And your smooth, creamy skin…” He brushed the back of his hand across my cheek. “You’re so soft. And these full, pouty lips…” His gaze dropped to my mouth, stealing the breath from me. He dragged his thumb across my lips, effectively paralyzing me with the intimacy of the touch. “They’re perfect,” he whispered so quietly I barely heard him.
Though we should have been crackling with the electricity that seemed to spark between us on occasion, the moment was surprisingly tender. The affection was perhaps more shocking than the lust he’d shown earlier. “And if you’re worried about your body…” His hands fell to my waist, where they slid low over my hips. “You shouldn’t be.”
I shuddered beneath his touch, and he finally stepped back from me. Whatever he saw in my expression killed the mood between us. I was completely overwhelmed, just like I had been at my dad’s competition. Why were the nice things so much harder to hear than the insults? Because they were harder to believe? Because I wanted them to be true? Why did hearing him compliment me scare me so badly?
Realizing he’d overdone it, Adam bit his lip and took a breath.
“Sorry. I think I should probably go now. We’ll skate another time.”
As much as I didn’t want him to leave, I nodded. My head and my heart were throwing off all kinds of warning signals. Adam was fire, and I was going to get burned. But like a moth, I couldn’t escape the flame. His pull was too strong. He threw his skateboard to the ground, preparing to take off.
“Adam?” I swallowed back my nerves and tried to return some of his sincerity. “Thank you.”
He gave me a sad smile. “I mean it, Libby. You’re beautiful. Try to remember that.”
My basic instinct is to refuse all compliments, but I bit back the urge and nodded. “I’ll try. I want to believe it. I do. It’s just hard.”
“It’ll get easier.”
I hoped so. I also hoped that meant he’d continue to be there for me. Not that I needed him to tell me I’m beautiful all the time, but I liked the way I felt about myself when I was around him. I needed more people like him in my life. I used to have people like that—the Science Squad was like that—but I’d lost them.
My throat burned suddenly. I needed to win them back. Whatever it took, I wanted my friends back. I wanted to make things right. I’d been horrible to them, and I could admit that now. I met Adam’s gaze as best as I could, even though I wanted nothing more than to stare at the ground. “I know I can be a royal pain in the derrière, but I really do want to change. I’ve become so insecure that I’ve hurt a lot of people—the people I love most. I don’t want to be that girl who depends on a guy to feel good about herself. That’s not who I am. It’s not who my parents taught me to be.”
Adam shook his head. “No, it’s not. That’s what I’ve always liked about you. It’s why I’ve always known who you are, even if you never paid any attention to me. But don’t worry. You’re smart, Libby. You’ll figure it out.”
I shook my head. “Not without you.”
His mouth parted in surprise. I swallowed a Halley’s Comet-sized lump in my throat and bore my soul to him. “I’m done being a terrible person. I recognize that the way I’ve put Owen before everyone and everything important to me was wrong, and I’m ready—completely ready—to change. Don’t go soft on me now, Coffee Man. I need your help. Please help me remove my shortcomings.”
I used those exact words knowing that Adam would recognize them. He stared at me for a moment, blinking in disbelief, and then muttered in a reverent whisper. “Steps six and seven.”
His face lit with joy and then softened into a look of pride that made my heart swell. Adam was proud of me. Knowing that I’d won his approval—which was so hard to earn—felt better than anything Owen had ever made me feel. It was real. Deep. More significant than my entire relationship with Owen. And it made me realize just how desperate I was for something meaningful in my life.
Forcing myself to hold eye contact, I nodded. “Steps six and seven.” I sucked in a breath through my nose. Despite all my efforts, I was feeling vulnerable again, and it was wreaking havoc on my emotions. My voice cracked when I whispered, “Thank you, Adam.”
He smiled another soft smile, but shook his head. “Don’t thank me yet. You still have a long way to go, and it’s not going to be easy. Making amends can be both difficult and discouraging.”
“I’m terrified,” I admitted. “But I’m ready. Because of you. So, thank you. Truly.”
“You’re welcome.” His smile quirked into a wicked grin. “Even though you really are a royal pain in the gluteus maximus. See you later, Libby.”
With a parting wink, he kicked off from the curb and went sailing down the street with the grace of a skateboarding god. I was in emotional turmoil on the inside, but I smiled as I watched him disappear. I finally knew who he was from the skate park.
Libby
I was still standing in the driveway, staring after Adam’s retreating figure when my parents came home. Dad, character that he is, pulled into the driveway, nearly tapping me with the front end of his Escalade as he blasted the horn. It startled me so badly I fell backward and landed on my butt. For once, I was grateful for the extra padding. “Dad!” I screamed when he climbed out of the car and all but rolled on the ground with laughter. “You just gave me a freaking myocardial infarction!”
“Really, Sean. Don’t be so immature,” Mom scolded as she off
ered me a hand up. I took the offered help, but I rolled my eyes at her because she was laughing, too.
After brushing off my palms and my butt, I put my hands on my hips and gave my father a dirty look. “Just for that, I think you owe me two hundred bucks.”
Now Dad did fall to the grass with laughter. “That’s great! You’re so funny. I’m so glad my daughter is back,” he roared, clenching his gut as if it were going to burst. “I really missed your insane sense of humor, honey.”
I shot Mom a deadpan look, and she took pity on me. “I’m sorry, Libby. You’re father’s new line arrived this afternoon, and you know how he gets when he’s in a really good mood.”
I almost forgave him. Dad was starting his own line of boarding products, along with his new store. He’s been working with designers for almost a year getting everything ready. If all the prototypes came in today, it did make a lot of sense why he was being such a man-child.
It also meant that I needed to leave the house. Like, right that second. Because aside from reverting back to his sixteen-year-old self when he was really happy, he also tended to get excited in other disgusting, unspeakable ways, and he was not above making out with my mom and grabbing inappropriate parts of her in front of me if I didn’t make myself scarce quickly enough.
“Right,” I said to Mom, shuddering at the disgusting threat looming in front of me. “I do know how he gets. Don’t even think about it!” I snapped as he sneaked up behind my mom. He grabbed her from behind, pinching her sides until she squealed. “Dad, I swear, if you—”
He stuck his tongue in her mouth.
“Why?” I shouted to the heavens. “Why was I born to this lunatic? Seriously, Dad, I’m going to have permanent psychological damage if you don’t stop this instant, and I will totally be sending you the bill for any resulting therapy. Do you know how expensive a good therapist is?”