by Maxene Novak
“I'll quit,” Chad mutters. “I can find a different job, no problem.”
“I work at my dad's body shop,” Bryan says, shaking his head. “He won't care if I'm gone for a few days.”
“Yeah,” Kyle sighs, grabbing his phone, “this is going to be interesting.”
He gets up and walks outside.
“What about you?” I ask Adam as he flips through a few things on YouTube.
“Oh, I'm good,” he replies. “Just have to adjust my schedule a bit to clear the week, but other than that I'm all square.”
“Think the guys from New Fallout will be pissed?” I sit back in my chair.
“Maybe,” he mutters. “Oh well. Were the tables turned, they'd drop our asses too.”
“Yeah, but they've been working pretty hard on their new album,” I remind him. “We shouldn't cut them out completely. I'm sure you can fit them in for a couple of recording hours a day.”
Adam mulls it over and nods his head.
“You're right,” he sighs. “I don't want any bad energy circulating around this. I'll give them a call and work something out.”
“Good.”
Adam went to school for music production. He runs his own recording studio in the privacy of the pool house basement. It's quite the perfect set up and pretty much soundproof. He's still paying his parents back for the equipment, but he brings in some pretty decent cash doing it.
He's got a good rapport with the local bands in Chicago, and I want to keep it that way. Adam taps on his laptop as he reads through our Facebook page. I kind of want to sit beside him but he's with the boys on the couch.
We did say we'd take things slow. Our friendship is important to me and so is Nova Rose. I won't let anything jeopardize either one of those things, but the more I think about it the more I realize I do really care about Adam. Maybe we are meant to be.
Kyle walks back into the room and clears his throat. His face looks rigid and nervous but oddly triumphant.
“I did it,” he mumbles. “I finally did it.”
“What's up, Kyle?” Adam asks in concern.
“I quit. I've hated that place for three years. Ha!”
He throws his phone to Chad and fist pumps. The boys cheer for him but I'm more concerned than thrilled.
“What happens if this doesn't work out for the best?” I ask, and they start throwing my couch cushions at me. “Come on! Seriously!”
“He can work with me,” Adam says as if the answer is obvious. “I can always use an extra pair of ears in the studio.”
“See,” Kyle grins. “All is well.”
“Alright. Now it's my turn.”
I take a deep breath. I mean—figuratively, I should be fine. My manager, Lisa, understands my dream and has been really supportive of Nova Rose, but she also has a business to run. I take my phone into the bathroom and make the call. She picks up on the first ring.
“Hey, Nova!” Lisa says brightly. “I saw your video on my feed this morning! You really killed it, girl!”
“So it seems,” I giggle. “I actually have some news.”
“Oh, really?” she asks excitedly. “Well, let’s hear it!”
So, I tell her about everything and am pleasantly surprised to hear that she's just as excited as we are.
“Of course! Take all the time you need! You never call off, you're always on time, and here when I need you. Just remember Reggie’s when you make it big. That's all I ask.”
“It may come to nothing…” I begin, but she cuts me off.
“You can't think like that. If you go into this with a negative attitude then it won't work out. Come on, girl! This is a chance to get out of Chicago and into a sold-out arena! Be excited about it and focus on how awesome it is! No matter what happens—this is a victory! You should be proud of yourselves! Just let me know if you need anything. Do you need a venue?”
I hadn't thought of that.
“I… I don't know,” I admit.
“Well, you've got one,” Lisa says firmly. “Find out the details and we'll plan accordingly.”
“Right,” I agree, “I've got the boys here now doing just that. I just wanted to talk to you about it too. I don't want to be jobless if this falls through.”
“You have nothing to worry about,” Lisa replies. “I'll have Connie fill your spot. She's always bitching for more hours.”
“Thank you, Lisa.”
“Don't thank me. Just get that recording contract.”
“I'll do that,” I giggle. “We'll figure out what's going on and I'll give you a call later.”
“Sounds good, sweetheart. Congratulations. I'll talk to you soon!”
“Bye!” I squeal and hang up the phone.
I walk out into the living room and the guys are looking at me expectantly.
“It's all good?” I'm completely unsure of what they want me to say.
“Yes!” Adam cheers.
“Oh, she offered Reggie’s as a venue for us if we need one,” I add, and the boys can barely contain themselves.
“That's freaking cool,” Chad nods, “Everything is falling into place.”
“I figure we'll need a venue. I'm meeting with Dorian tomorrow to discuss details.”
“Who's Dorian?” I ask, confused.
“Oh, that's my professor,” Adam comments, “the guy that hooked us up. Dorian James. He's a… pretty cool guy.”
“Awesome,” I reply. “I can't wait to meet him.”
“Yeah,” Adam mumbles, seemingly distracted. He quickly shuts his computer and gives us all a look. “So!” he says, getting to his feet, “why don't we head to my place and work on some tunes?”
“Alright!” the boys respond in unison.
We all load up in the truck, the boys opting to ride in the back so I can sit up front with Adam. Their argument was that I needed to be in the truck to avoid catching a cold. Stooges. I pout in the front seat next to Adam while he laughs at me.
“They're being polite,” he remarks while shifting gears.
“But I like riding in the back,” I mumble. “I can be one of the boys too!”
“No one said you couldn't. They just don't want to chance you getting sick and losing your voice.”
“I know,” I sigh, propping my foot up on the dash.
“Hey!” Adam swats at me playfully. “Watch the interior! I just got your scuff marks out from last time.”
I remove my foot from the dash and stick my tongue out at him.
“Better watch that,” he comments darkly.
I give him a smirk and roll my eyes. I'll admit though—his tone of voice was kind of sexy just now. His hand reaches over and takes mine. He laces our fingers together and looks at me.
His face is slightly pink with a shy smile plastered to his face.
“Is this okay?” he asks quietly.
“Yeah,” I reply, squeezing his hand gently. “It's fine.”
A swarm of butterflies take off in my stomach and my heart speeds up. I take a deep breath to calm the swell of emotions I'm feeling.
It's crazy. I've held his hand many times before. I mean, he's my best friend, but it feels different now. I hope this is right. I don't want to screw anything up between us, but it feels so good. His hand fits mine so perfectly. How did I not notice before?
Catcalls and whistling catches my attention as we drive down the road. Chad gets up from the back and thumps on the roof of the truck playfully when we're stopped at a light. Fire surges to my cheeks as I realize they can see us holding hands. I move to let go but Adam squeezes my hand tighter.
“I don't care if you don't,” he gives me a questioning look.
I shake my head and lift his hand to my lips, kissing it briefly. Chad begins howling and baying like a dog.
“Watch this,” Adam says.
The light turns green and Adam hits the gas a little harder than necessary. Chad's eyes go wide as he falls backwards onto Kyle.
“Oh my God, Adam!” I smack him on the ar
m. “They could be hurt!”
“They're fine,” he replies as he lets go of my hand to shift gears.
I turn and look behind me to check on them. They're all cackling as Chad grapples Kyle in a chokehold.
“Yep,” I say as I face forward, “they're fine.”
He takes my hand again and brings it to rest on his lap.
“Told you,” he smirks.
We manage to make it to his house without any injury. I'm not sure how, seeing how rowdy Chad can be, but we made it. I follow them inside the gate and I'm quickly greeted by Adam's mom, Gretchen.
“Hey, sweetie!” Gretchen beams, engulfing me in an air tight hug. “How are you?! You never come see me anymore!”
“Hey, Mom,” I reply, gasping for air. “I'm sorry. We've just been really busy. Well—me with work and this.”
“You are family,” she continues in a scolding tone. “You should know better, but I hear you've got some great news today!”
“I know!” I reply excitedly. “We're going to be practicing a lot for the next few days. I hope it doesn't bother you and Mr. Rose.”
“Oh, Lord, don't let him hear you call him that. It might break his heart.”
“How is Dad?” I ask, correcting myself.
“He's doing well,” she wraps her arm around my shoulders. “He just got back from Canada—you know how grumpy he gets from traveling.”
She leans closer and whispers discreetly in my ears.
“His hemorrhoids are giving him fits,” she proceeds to fill me in, “I keep telling him—go see a doctor, but does he listen to his wife?”
“Nope,” I reply, trying to stifle a laugh. “They never do.”
“You're exactly right,” she pats my shoulder as we walk to the pool house, “He's napping now, but why don't you come over after practice? I know he'd love to see his favorite little girl.”
“We're going to be pretty busy, Mom,” Adam joins in. “She'll be here every day for the next week. I'm sure she can fit in some time to visit later.”
“You should join us for dinner!” Gretchen continues, completely ignores him.
“Mom, she doesn't have time for dinner!” Adam sighs in exasperation.
“Speak for yourself,” I give him a playful shove. “Dinner sounds great, Mom. What time?”
“How about a compromise? A late dinner—say—seven thirty? You can bring the boys!”
“I'm sorry, Mrs. Rose,” Chad kisses the older woman's cheek sweetly. “I have work at eight tonight.”
“You can't go to work on an empty stomach!” my other mother gushes. “We'll have dinner at seven then—no arguments.”
She points at Adam and his shoulders slump in defeat.
“Yes, ma'am,” Adam sighs.
“That's my sweet boy,” she pinches his cheeks. “I'll let you all get to it and see you tonight.”
“Thank you, Mom,” I reply, giving her a hug.
“You're welcome, dear,” she brushes the hair out of my face. “So beautiful.”
She waves her hands at me playfully and scoots merrily along to the main house. I shake my head as the middle-aged woman walks inside.
“She's so pushy,” Adam huffs and walks into the pool house.
“She loves you, Adam.”
“She loves you too.” He flips on the kitchen light. “She was so excited when I told her about last night.”
“I know. My mom called as soon as I walked through the door. Said your mom told her. Did you plan on asking me out?”
“Maybe,” he says, blushing while he fills a cup with water. “For… a little over a decade now? Since I was old enough to think that girls weren't so gross?”
“Why didn't you ever say anything?” I ask quietly as I hear guitars begin to crank out riffs. “And I don't recall you ever thinking I was gross.”
“I didn't think you were gross,” he replies, placing the cup in the microwave. “You weren't just a girl to me. My best friend. When we got older… I don't know—I guess, I thought… I wouldn't have to say anything, that you'd just know. You know everything about me. What I'm thinking—the meaning behind my facial expressions, my feelings—you finish my sentences.”
The microwave dings and he pulls out the steaming cup carefully. He reaches into the cabinet and pulls out a bag of tea. He places a single bag in the cup and pulls out a packet of honey, then opens the packet and squeezes the contents into the tea. When he's done, he turns to me with his arms crossed.
“To answer your question bluntly,” he clears his throat, “I assumed you already knew how I felt and since you never said anything—also assumed you didn't feel the same way. So, I left it alone.”
I give his answer some thought. I can see why he'd feel that way and to be honest I have thought about him throughout the years, but even so…
“Why now?”
“Because,” he steps closer and brushing the hair out of my face, “we're all grown up now. Everything I've ever hoped and dreamed for is happening. With or without the record deal I have everything I want. Except you. If I'm going to have the life I want, I have to go after it. I can't make you fall in love with me but I'm sure as hell going to try.”
His lips crash onto mine like ocean waves, stealing the breath in my lungs I didn't know I was holding. He's passionate but gentle as he presses me against the counter top. I feel his fingers caress my chin while his free arm pulls me close.
When he pulls away, I feel robbed. I run my hand up his arm and around his neck. His breathing is heavy and quick as my lips find his. A low groan escapes his throat and things I know I've never felt for Adam flare from beneath my skin. I need to slow down before I get too ahead of myself, but before I can move, he takes a quick step back.
“What?” I ask anxiously.
Did I do something wrong? Was it too much?
“N-Nothing,” he stutters, blushing profusely. “Just, uh… intense?”
“Sorry,” I mumble, but he's quick to pull me close.
“No, no!” he says hurriedly. “I wanted to.”
“It's too fast, right?” I ask and he shakes his head.
“No, I mean…” he glances down briefly, “I really wanted to.”
Oh, well, if he wanted to then why did he…?
“Oh!” I exclaim and he drops his head. “I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to—”
“It's cool,” he says with shame written all over his face. “I'm sorry. It's just—you really have no idea how long I've wanted to do this.”
I walk over and wrap my arms around his waist.
“It's okay,” I rest my head on his shoulder. “I know now and… you're not alone.”
“Hm?” he asks as he lays his head on mine.
“I wanted to also,” I reply awkwardly.
He laughs and shakes his head.
“We're really weird.”
“Yeah,” I reply. “Little bit.”
He lets go and walks over to the cup of tea, picking it up carefully. “Here you go,” he says, handing me the cup.
“Aw, thanks, babe,” I gush and catch myself. “Shit!”
“Yes!” Adam fist pumps and jumps out of the kitchen.
I watch as he throws his arms in the air victoriously then points at me.
“You just called me babe,” he grins boyishly. “Doesn't that mean I'm in?”
“Don't press your luck,” I warn him playfully.
He throws his hands back up in the air and marches quietly into the practice area. I take a sip of my tea. It's the perfect temperature with a sweet honey and lemon flavor—just the way I like it. Adam is kind of like this tea.
He's thoughtful and sweet like honey, but he's exciting, optimistic, and his lips taste like sunshine. I sigh at the phantom feeling of his lips washing over mine.
I wish he knew—he doesn't have to make me fall in love with him. It's just kind of dawned on me. In so many ways, I've always been half way there. I guess I've just been waiting for him. He's always been my constant.
&nb
sp; When I imagine my future, he is always included. I can't see myself sharing a future with anyone else, and looking back, I never have. It's been him all along. I have been so blind.
Chapter Four
The next day is a train wreck. Adam is pacing the floor of the pool house like a cat locked in a cage and pulling at his hair. We're waiting on his old professor to call and set up the time for us to meet.
The rest of the group is asleep. We were up until the wee hours of the morning and Chad just got back from his shift. I'm not entirely sure what he does. He kind of keeps a low profile about himself, which is surprising seeing how loud he is, but whatever he does he's sleeping it off soundly.
“Adam, you're walking a hole in the floor. Calm down. It's just your old professor. You've talked to him before.”
“Yeah, but it's been years,” he says, running his fingers through his hair. “He's not my professor anymore. He's kind of a big deal now.”
“I get that. I just don't see why it's freaking you out so bad.”
He sighs and sits down on the couch, fidgeting nervously with his hands.
“There's something I haven't told you,” he blurts and his face is white as a ghost, “I haven't—told anyone.”
“Well,” I shrug, “what is it?”
He stands back up and paces the floor a bit.
“I don't think I'm ready for this,” he sighs.
“The meeting?” I ask. “It's kind of too late for that now.”
“No—no, not the meeting,” he shakes out his hands, taking a deep breath and releases it, giving me an anxious look. “He wasn't just my professor.”
I hold up my hands in reply. What the hell is he talking about?
“Ugh,” he sits back down. “I don't know how to tell you this.”
“Just tell me,” I reply, taking his hand. “You can tell me anything. I thought you knew that.”
“I do,” he rubs his face. “It's just really bad timing.”
“Okay, why?” I ask trying to steer him to the point.
He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I slept with him,” he blurts and my mouth drops.