“Yeah, well that’s ‘cause you’re goddamn good at it,” I murmured, my face squished to the side of a pillow.
For a while we were silent, and I just gave into the exquisite sensation of him working over my taut muscles. It made my mind blank, which it hadn’t been in days, and that in itself was a treasure.
“You’re so damn good to me, Adam,” I murmured after a while.
“I try,” he said, moving his hands to flank my spine in the middle of my back.
“No, you fucking succeed,” I said. “Why are you so good to me?”
His hands stilled for a moment, resting flat and warm against my back, before they started working over me again. “Because I care about you, Grey, duh,” he said. “I mean, I try to be good to everyone unless they give me a reason not to be, but… you’re special.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle at that.
“What?” he said. “You’re hilarious, and sweet, and sexy as hell, and helpful, and… I admire that you’re dedicated to following your dream.”
“My dream?”
“Of moving to Portland. Finally getting out of Fox Hollow.”
“Oh, yeah,” I said, suddenly anxious at the thought. “If I can even still do that.”
“What are you talking about?” Adam said, pausing again.
“I mean, shit, Adam,” I said. “You saw what a fucking wreck I was. All I did was go on vacation and I freaked out about not being able to be there for my mom. If I move away, who is she going to have?”
“I mean, she has friends, right?”
“Not really. I don’t know. Part of me just… doesn’t trust her to take care of herself.”
“How so?”
I thought for a minute. “Like if I leave her to her own devices, she doesn’t do simple things like the dishes, because it hurts her hip to stand there too long. Same with watering the plants. And beyond that, she also still smokes, despite everything, and doesn’t really pay any mind to her diet.”
“That’s tough,” Adam said, working his hands to my lower back. “Really tough. But… it shouldn’t be solely your responsibility, either.”
I took in a deep breath. “I know. Deep down, I know that. But it doesn’t make it easy to just pack up and leave.”
Adam released his hands from me, and then his weight shifted, moving closer toward my face. I leaned upward slightly, looking him in the eye.
“Grey, you can’t seriously be thinking about staying in Fox Hollow, right?”
I cast my eyes down, and hitched one shoulder up in a shrug. “I don’t know.”
“You hate it here. You can’t give up on your dreams.”
I looked up again, meeting his gaze. “Well… it wouldn’t be all bad, would it?” I said.
He furrowed his brow at me. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about… you. About us. Like… I know we’ve been ignoring talking about the end, but I’m pretty sure it’s safe to say neither one of us is looking forward to being away from one another.”
Adam shook his head, still looking at me with concern.
“So… maybe I’m just being a big baby, wanting to move out of Fox Hollow so bad. Maybe I should suck it up, and just live in a place I don’t love, because my mom’s here and… and because you’re here.”
“Grey,” Adam said, narrowing his eyes and sitting up straight on the bed. I sat up fully, now, too, on the edge of the bed with Adam.
“What?” I said, challenging him.
“You can’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“…just stay here because I’m here. That wouldn’t be right. It’s more important to live your life how is best for you than it is to stay in a place you hate for me. You’ll grow to resent it, Grey, and you know it.”
I kept my eyes down at the floor. “Fuck,” I said finally. “I know you’re probably right. Of course you are.” I buried my face in my hands, resting my elbows on my thighs. Suddenly I felt like I might almost be about to cry again, the overwhelming emotion hitting me like a brick: my mom, having to leave Adam, the weight of all my decisions. “I just don’t know what to fucking do,” I said, realizing with embarrassment that I wasn’t able to keep myself from crying.
The warm weight of Adam’s arm fell over my shoulder, holding me.
“Grey,” he said softly. “Things will work out. Really, they will. I know it seems… insurmountable right now, but I know you will pull through this.”
I let out another embarrassing sob, sniffling. “Ugh,” I said, wiping my eyes with the heel of my hand, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.”
I took a deep, shuddering breath, looking up at the ceiling. “I hope this doesn’t sound bad,” I said, “but I kind of just want to go to sleep. I’m so fucking mentally wrecked and I just can’t handle anything else right now.”
“Absolutely,” Adam said. “I can go home.”
“No,” I said, too forcefully. “No,” I repeated a little more gently, grabbing hold of his hand. “Will you stay with me?”
He smiled softly, nodding at me. “I’ll stay.”
I got up briefly only to strip off my pants and socks, tucking back under the covers in my boxers and t-shirt. Adam got in next to me and turned off the small lamp, and I wrapped my body around him, laying my limbs across his bulk.
“Thank you, Adam,” I whispered as I felt myself pulled toward sleep by exhaustion.
He hummed against me, stroking a hand against my hair, a repetitive pattern that only lulled me further to sleep.
And then Adam did something amazing, something that he only rarely did: he started humming, low and deep, the gentle melody of some song he must have written on guitar. Adam played guitar almost every day, but he rarely sang. The soft hum of his chest hit me like a lullaby as I fell asleep, surrounding me with a comfort I didn’t even know I needed.
I felt at home in his arms. And I drifted to sleep, my anxiety floating away into the ether.
“Tell me again what you’re not going to do,” I said to my mom, looking her sternly in the eyes.
“I am not going to eat any high salt, or high fat foods,” she said, sitting on the edge of her hospital bed, purse slung over the front of her walker. “I’ve got the approved grocery list from the doctor. I know what I’m allowed to get.”
“Good,” I said. “No sneaky Domino’s delivery.”
She shook her head. “Nope. You think I want to end up back in here again? I’m gonna try harder this time, Grey. I’ve never… had a scare like this one before.”
I bent down to give her a hug, feeling a genuine wave of affection.
“So you’ve got everything?” I said, giving one last glance around the hospital room before we left.
“I’ve got it all. Including Mark Borneil’s phone number,” she said, smiling up at me.
“What? Oh, is that the Texas guy?”
She nodded. “That is the Texas guy. Mark is great. Grey, I wasn’t gonna tell you yet, but… I think we might have something.”
I stared at her, wide-eyed. Have something? My mom hadn’t even considered dating at all in many years, most notably since she had to start using a walker. She’d always said “her time had passed her by,” and that her dating days were over.
“Mom,” I said, incredulous, “have you got a boyfriend?” A slow, wide smile spread across my face as a devilish one appeared on hers.
“Maybe,” she said with a little shrug. “And Grey, you’ll love this: Mark was a pack-a-day smoker until two years ago. Wanna know what got him to quit?” she said, rummaging in her purse. “This little guy. Electronic cigarette, I guess they call it, or a vapor pen?” She held up a little device.
“Wow,” I said, genuinely in shock that she was taking an actual step toward health.
“I really think this will help,” she said. “Mark gave it to me. He got me these little packs that have small amounts of nicotine and then some that don’t. For now I’m just using a blank, and I haven’t had
many cravings at all.”
“Mom, that’s amazing,” I said. Some part of me knew that the vapor probably couldn’t be totally healthy, but it had to be better than cigarettes, so I figured it was worth a shot. My mom had been smoking forever, and if she had to take baby steps, it was worth taking.
I helped her stand up and get steady on her walker and then we crossed out into the hallway, moving slow down to the elevators, and then stopping at the financial desk at the lobby of the hotel.
“Hi,” I said. “Here to work out payment options for Barbara Foster. She was in room 309. I’m definitely going to need to put it on a payment plan—whatever the least amount per month is, I don’t care how many years it’ll take to pay it off.”
The unsmiling woman behind the computer desk clacked away at the keyboard for many moments.
“Barbara Foster?” she said. “Room 309, you said?”
“That’s right.”
The woman gave me a blank look. “I have here that Barbara Foster is already paid for. Pre-paid, lump sum.”
I blinked back at her. “No. It must be a mistake. I haven’t paid anything yet.”
“What is your date of birth, ma’am?”
“June 4th, 1949,” she said.
“Yes. This is her record. She is fully paid, by credit card, two days ago. Name on the credit card is Adam Fara.”
I felt like the ground had dropped out from under me. “Adam?” I said.
The woman sighed, exasperated. “Yes, sir. The bill is paid. Do you need a receipt for that?”
I couldn’t tell if what I was feeling was shock, panic, anger, or disbelief. Really, it was all four. “Yes,” I said. “Give me a receipt. Fully itemized, if you could.” My mom looked over at me, eyes wide, but she didn’t say anything.
A minute later the clerk printed out the receipt, which was a many-paper stack, and after stapling it she handed it to me. “Thank you,” I said, and took a few steps away, standing by the wall to look over the packet.
It was true. Down at the bottom, there it was: Paid in Full, Adam Fara, with a date that was two days ago.
But it wasn’t just this hospital visit’s multi-thousand dollar bill that had been paid.
It was fucking everything.
All of my mom’s hospital bills, the ones I’d struggled for years to keep up with, scraping together every last dollar to pay on time, was gone. Paid. Over.
I felt tears forming at the corner of my eyes, such a strange sense of ultimate confusion mixed with a startling anger.
“Honey,” my mom finally said, “Did Adam pay for all this? How? Why? Good God, how the hell are we going to repay him for this?”
“I think I know how he did it,” I said. At first I had been profoundly confused—I knew Adam didn’t make a ton of money at all—but then I remembered. He had that inheritance money, money he never touched.
Which meant that Adam must have pitied me so much that he’d gone against his own principles, taking his father’s money to pay off all the medical bills.
I knew how I should have reacted. I should have been elated, should have jumped for joy at the fact that Adam had acted as a glorious benefactor, freeing me and my mom from a lifetime of medical bills.
But all I felt was a white-hot blind rage.
How could he have done this without even telling me? I didn’t know he had even planned to do it, hadn’t known he’d done it two days ago, and he hadn’t told me since then. Even though he’d probably meant to do it as a gift to me, it felt like a slap in the face.
It felt like Adam telling me that I wasn’t good enough to pay my own bills, so he’d go and do it for me. Like I couldn’t take care of it on my own. Couldn’t take care of my own mother by myself.
“We’re really going to have to talk with Adam, honey,” my mom said.
“Let’s just go home,” I said, my voice coming out strangled and strange. I folded the receipt roughly and shoved it into my back pocket. “I’ll deal with Adam. We just need to get you home.”
We got on the next bus home and I helped my mom get back to her house safe, setting everything up so that she could have a calm environment. I did her dishes. Took out the trash. Even vacuumed and cleaned her bathroom so that the whole house was spotless. It was probably overkill, but I had to get out my energy, and I knew Adam might still be at my house after walking Chewy, and I didn’t want to see him.
So I cleaned all afternoon and into the night. My mom told me I was doing too much, but I didn’t care. Finally, as the sky was starting to darken, I got a text from Adam.
>>ADAM: You okay? Still with your mom?
I swallowed hard, seeing his name on the screen. How could he act so nonchalant? How did he expect me to react to finding out he’d paid thousands and thousands of dollars of bills?
I couldn’t comprehend it. So I sent back the only thing I could think to write.
>>GREY: Yeah. Everything’s fine. I need to help her around the house though so I’m gonna be exhausted when I get back.
>>ADAM: Okay. I will be asleep but I’ll be here.
I took a deep breath.
>>GREY: Actually, if you don’t mind, I’d rather be alone tonight.
I got no response for a good 5 minutes. Then, just a short one.
>>ADAM: Okay. But if you need me, you know where to find me.
I put my phone back in my pocket. He must have known I’d seen the bill, right? He knew that I was getting my mom out of the hospital that night, and I didn’t see how he couldn’t realize I’d found out.
But I couldn’t deal with it. Not right now. I was too afraid that if I went home and Adam was there, I would say something stupid or something I’d regret. I couldn’t bear to see him, knowing now that he pitied me enough to go behind my back.
Fifteen
Adam
It made sense that Grey would want some alone time after taking his mom home from the hospital. We’d been spending a ton of time together, and if he needed time to decompress, that was perfectly fine with me.
But when Grey said the same thing again the next day, it made me start to wonder. Because it didn’t seem like he was just exhausted and needed time to himself. It seemed like he was actively avoiding me.
It was odd, because part of me had expected him to show up at my door shocked when he got the hospital bill for his mom and realized it was all paid off. Maybe the hospital hadn’t billed him yet—maybe they sent it to his house later? Or maybe he had found out that it was paid off, but hadn’t known that I did it. In a way that would even be better, I thought, because I never wanted Grey to feel like he had to repay me.
But instead, he hadn’t mentioned it to me at all.
And when another day passed where he told me he wanted to be on his own, I started to get a little worried. I knew Grey was melancholy by nature, but I wasn’t sure if he might have gotten seriously depressed with his mom’s latest trip to the hospital. If he was this withdrawn from me, maybe it was a signal that he needed some help.
I felt embarrassingly naïve, all of a sudden. I had no idea how to handle the situation. I cared so much about Grey, but I had never been in a relationship long enough to work through a situation like this. Had Grey simply realized he didn’t want me around anymore? It was confounding, mostly just because it was a total 180-degree flip from how he’d acted before. He always wanted me to spend the night with him, until a few days ago. And I couldn’t explain the sudden change.
So that night, I decided to stop back at Grey’s house. I would ask him what was wrong, and if everything seemed fine, I’d of course still give him space.
I checked first out my back window, seeing if I could see Grey outside, but he wasn’t there.
I crossed back through the house and stepped outside my front door, into the evening dusk the light finally dying out for the day. It was brisk enough outside that I needed a jacket, but I didn’t bother going back for one now.
I made my way up the few steps of his porch and knocked on hi
s door. After a few moments with no answer, I knocked harder. I thought it was possible that he was out walking Chewy, but after a louder knock I heard Chewy’s telltale bark. The light was also on in the living room window, and Grey never left the lights on when he wasn’t home. He was too frugal.
“Grey,” I said, fairly loudly. “It’s Adam. Are you there? I just want to talk to you.”
There was a silent pause for a few moments, and I turned on my heel, ready to leave.
But then I heard the faint squeak of his door opening. “What do you need, Adam,” Grey said, his voice strangely low and jagged. I turned to look at him, his dark silhouette in the doorway, and immediately I smelled alcohol on him.
“Grey,” I said, taking a step closer. “Are you okay?”
He held up a hand, as if to stop me from coming any closer, and when he performed the simple gesture he swayed a little. I started to realize that he was quite drunk.
“You coming to give me a paycheck, Adam?” he said, meeting my gaze, cold and lifeless.
“What?” I said, furrowing my brow.
“Fuck,” he said. “You fucking serious?” he said, slurring slightly. He was in his typical black jeans and black hoodie, but his hair was even messier than normal, and there were dark rings around his eyes.
“Grey, tell me what’s going on. Is this about your mother?”
“’Course it’s fucking about her.”
“Is she okay?”
He hitched up one shoulder in a shrug. “Seems fine to me. She sure doesn’t have any medical bills to worry about. You know anything about that, Adam? Or are you planning to lie to me about having paid for them?”
My chest felt like it had turned to ice. “So you did find out. Grey, of course I was going to tell you, I just thought it would be a pleasant surprise if you found out on your own.”
He barked out one cold, sharp laugh. “Pleasant surprise. Pleasant fucking surprise. Yeah Adam, it’s super great knowing you went behind my back and basically obliterated everything I’d worked so hard to pay in one big swoop. Feels fuckin’ great knowing you pity me.”
“Oh my God,” I whispered. “Pity isn’t what it is at all.”
Wild Star: Under the Stars Book 3 Page 18