Girlfriend Material
Page 18
Was this really happening? This couldn’t really be happening. “Wait,” I said. “Why didn’t you tell me you liked me if you liked me so much? I mean, why didn’t you tell me before?”
Adam looked down at the porch step, and as he toyed with a long splinter of wood, I was reminded of myself on the deck with David. “Why didn’t you tell me you liked me if you liked me so much?” he asked finally, still picking at the pale gray wood.
“I did,” I said. “I mean, I tried to. I just told the wrong guy.”
Adam stopped studying the step and looked up at me. “I was embarrassed, okay? It’s hard to say what you feel. Especially when the other person says she doesn’t want to, you know, hang out with you anymore.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “Hang out? That’s pretty lame, Carpenter.”
He ran his fingers through his hair and groaned. “Are you gonna cut me some slack here or what?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, folding my arms and cocking my head at him. “I mean, do I really want a boyfriend who needs me to cut him slack?”
Adam crossed his arms and stared back at me. “I have other qualities,” he said.
“Such as?” I asked.
He thought for a second. “I’m a pretty good tennis player,” he said.
“Negative,” I said. “As I remember that game, I kicked your ass.”
“True,” he acknowledged. Then he said, “I’m a decent kisser.”
I could feel myself blush, both at what he’d said and at the memory of kissing him.
“Oh really?” I pretended to be thinking, then said, “I can’t quite recall.”
“Might I be so bold as to offer to refresh your memory?”
“Oh, I suppose,” I said.
He was down the stairs in a matter of seconds, and our arms were around each other and we were kissing. Each time one of us went to pull away, the other would pull the person back. The kiss seemed to last forever.
Finally we came up for air.
“Not bad,” I said. “Not bad at all.” My vision was blurry and my voice shook.
“Hey,” he said, like he’d just thought of something, “why did you think I’d come here?” He kissed his way up my jaw.
“I thought you were paying … I don’t know, a courtesy call or something,” I said, only half thinking about the words as I felt his lips on my ear.
Keeping his arms around my waist, he pulled away. “A courtesy call?! What are we, in a Jane Austen novel?”
When he put it that way, I had to admit my idea had been a little nuts. I shrugged.
He shook his head. “I don’t know, Draper,” he said. “Do I really need a girlfriend who’s certifiably crazy?”
I pulled him to me, and we kissed again, melting into each other. “You’re right,” I said into his lips. “Maybe we should just, you know, hang out. You’re not looking for some big serious thing, are you?”
“You’re hilarious,” he said, running his hand up my back. “I hope you’re prepared for me to come skiing in Salt Lake this Christmas.”
“I just hope you ski better than you play tennis,” I said, digging my hands into his hair.
“I’m a great skier,” he said. “Expert. You’ll see. Maybe I couldn’t beat you at tennis, but I vow to leave you in the dust as we make our way down the mountain.”
“Oh, Adam,” I said, laughing. “Isn’t it pretty to think so?”
As I said the words, Adam’s lips met mine again, and I realized that for the first time ever, I didn’t wish I could feel the way Lady Brett Ashley did.
I wished, for her sake, that she could feel like me.
Acknowledgments
This book and its author have relied heavily on the kindness of friends and strangers whose generosity cannot be overstated. Thank you, Jennifer Besser, Donna Bray, Rebecca Friedman, Benjamin Gantcher, Bernie Kaplan, and Helen Perelman.