Unconditionally

by Erin Lyon

  He looked at me and I smiled. He didn’t.

  “Kate,” I heard someone call from inside. “Joe, she’s a friend.” It was Jenny, stopping her brisk walk back to the bar to rescue me from standing in line. By myself.

  Bouncer Joe opened the rope, giving me a belated friendly smile.

  As soon as I was in, Jenny hurried up to me and gave me a quick hug. Tonight she had a cloth headband holding her springy curls away from her pretty face and dark-brown eyes. She was in black skinny jeans and a red T-shirt, providing that cool yet subtle pirate vibe again.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” she said with wide eyes.

  I just gave her my best And why is that? expression.

  “I told Adam he should text you. He did, right?”

  “Yeah. He did. What’s going on?”

  “I mean, he isn’t sloppy drunk or anything, but I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him drunk at all.” She shrugged. “He just seems off. I thought it seemed like a BFF kind of job.” She gave a brief squeeze to my shoulders, pointed toward Adam at the end of the bar, and bustled off.

  As I approached Adam, he was simultaneously sipping from a glass and staring intently at his phone. My phone buzzed in my hand.

  From Adam.

  You better be on your way.

  “Not ‘on my way.’ Here,” I said, putting a hand on his wide shoulder.

  He whirled around on his bar stool and his whole face lit up when he saw me. “Kate,” he said, wrapping me tightly in his arms. I could smell the smoky sweetness of the Scotch on his breath. “You came.”

  “Of course I came,” I said, my voice a little muffled, since he still hadn’t released me from the hug. “So, what’s up with you?”

  He finally let go and sat up straight on his bar stool. “Nothing,” he said with a smile. “Not now. Everything is perfect.”

  “Okay. Then what was wrong? Jenny said you seemed off.”

  His face mellowed at that. “Just a weird day.”

  I sat on the empty bar stool next to him. “Wanna talk about it?”

  He took another drink from his glass. “Not even a little bit.”

  “Fair enough. But you know—”

  He cut off what I was about to say by holding a hand out to Jenny as she passed us behind the bar. “Jenny, did you see? Kate is here.”

  Jenny smiled, her dimple showing at the corner of her mouth. “I did. I told you she’d come if you asked her.” She put a hand gently to his forearm like she was talking to a child.

  “We need a drink,” he said, downing the remains of the glass in his hand. “Kate, gin and tonic, two limes?”

  I exchanged a quick glance with Jenny. “Um. Maybe not tonight. In fact, you probably don’t need another, either.”

  He frowned. He looked like he was about to ignore my suggestion and order, when Jenny piped in with, “She has a point, buddy. I think you’ve hit your sweet spot.”

  Adam frowned at her. “Pretty sure I’ve never been cut off in a bar before,” he said.

  “Well, this bar is run by friends who care about you, so consider it friendly advice rather than criticism.” Jenny whisked away the empty glass in front of Adam and hurried off to serve other patrons.

  “Well,” Adam said, frowning at me. “I told you to meet me for a drink, but apparently that isn’t going to happen. Here, anyway.”

  “That’s fine. It’s a little late for me to start drinking, anyway. How about I drive you home?”

  “I don’t want to go home.” He sounded more sullen than I expected.

  I leaned over a little, so he’d be looking at me instead of staring off in the distance. “Adam. Tell me what’s going on.”

  He refocused on me. “I love your eyes.”

  Okay. He’s drunk. Don’t get carried away with the butterflies thing. Well, maybe just a few.

  I put a hand on the side of his face, forcing him to focus. Trying to force him to focus, anyway. “Adam. Are you okay?”

  His face softened. “You’re my best friend, Kate.”

  Well, looks like this conversation isn’t happening. Tonight anyway.

  “Okay. You don’t want to go home. How about my place?”

  “Yes. Your place. Perfect. We’ll have a drink at your house.” He stood and took my hand, pulling me off my stool. He headed toward the door. As he walked past the bar, he held out a hand and called, loudly, “Jenny! Drew! Thanks, guys!”

  Drew and Jenny looked over from their respective drink pouring and waved back to both of us.

  As we headed toward my car, Adam suddenly stopped in the middle of the street. “Oh. My car is here.”

  I got behind him and gave him a push toward my car, in front of us at the curb. “We’ll get it in the morning. You can’t stand in the middle of the street.”

  He laughed a little. “Sorry.” He walked to the passenger side and climbed in, once I unlocked the car.

  I started driving us back to my house, and he rested his head back against the headrest. His eyes were focused on me, though.

  “I’m so glad we met, Kate.”

  I smiled. Drunk Adam was definitely a whole new side to him. “So am I.”

  “No,” he continued, more strenuously. “I am. You have people. I don’t have people.”

  “Your mom is pretty awesome.”

  He smiled. “She is. But she’s my mom. She has to be my people. But all my other people aren’t really people. Does that make sense?”

  Nope. “Sure.”

  “But now, you’re my person. I have a person. Logek is your person and you’re my person.”

  “And you’re my person, too. You can have more than one,” I said, giving him a supportive smile. Sure, he was drunk and borderline nonsensical, but I was pretty sure I knew what he was trying to say.

  He smiled and closed his eyes. “I’m your person,” he said softly.

  I pulled up to the curb in front of my house and went around to the passenger side to help Adam out of the car.

  Once he was on his feet, he actually seemed in worse condition than when we had left the bar. He draped an arm across my shoulder and I wrapped an arm around his waist. Once I had the door unlocked, I guided him to the sofa and sat him down. I closed the front door and dropped my purse and keys on the coffee table.

  “I’m going to get you some water.”

  He was sitting, slumped down on the couch, watching me.

  I grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with cold water. “Here, drink this,” I said, handing him the glass. He obediently chugged down most of the water in a matter of seconds.

  I went to my room and grabbed an extra pillow and blanket, along with a couple of Advil from the bathroom, and went back downstairs.

  “Okay, Adam. Take these,” I said, handing him the Advil. “And finish that,” I said, pointing to the glass of water.

  He tossed back the hangover avoider and finished the glass of water.

  I tossed a pillow on one end of the couch. “Slip off your shoes.”

  He did that thing where he used the toe of one foot to the heel of the shoe to push it off, and then repeated it on the other side.

  Once his shoes were off, I walked between the coffee table and the couch and pushed his shoulders down till his head was lying on the pillow. Then I lifted his feet and guided them to the other end of the sofa. I looked at him, once he was lying down. He fit this sofa very differently than when I lay on it. His shoulders were almost as wide as the cushion, and he bent his knees to avoid putting his feet up on the arm.

  He let out a sigh and draped one arm across his face, covering his eyes.

  I brushed my fingertips across his forehead, pushing his hair back. When I did, he reached out and gripped my hand, putting my fingertips to his lips, kissing them lightly.

  Mayday. Shit. I pulled my hand away, with my heart in my throat. I picked up the blanket from where I’d set it on the coffee table, unfolded it, and draped it over him.

  “My turn to get you coffee i
n the morning,” I said quietly.

  “Thank you, Kate.”

  I closed the curtains so that it wouldn’t be too bright in the morning, turned off the lights, and headed upstairs.

  For the second time tonight, I got into my pajamas and got into bed. To stare at the ceiling. And replay every drunken, sweet thing Adam said to me tonight. Key word being drunken, Kate. He’s drunk. Don’t let your stupid, hopeful little heart read more into it.

  * * *

  I woke up early in the morning, well before my alarm clock.

  I tiptoed down the stairs in an effort to be quiet, but it was an old house and the steps seemed to creak louder the softer I attempted to step. I reached the living room and nearly got the wind knocked out of me by the sight of Adam sprawled across my couch.

  I looked up the length of him but stopped where his T-shirt was bunched up, exposing several inches of his hard, tanned stomach. BFF, my ass. I’m pretty sure best friends aren’t supposed to have quite this many naughty thoughts about their friend first thing in the morning.

  One arm was under his head, making his bicep look flexed even in sleep, and his other hand was resting over his heart. He had a slight crease between his eyebrows, making him look troubled.

  Without thinking, I reached out a finger and put it against the crease, smoothing his brow. When I did, his eyes fluttered open. His green eyes scanned the room quickly and then settled on me.

  He sat up slowly as I stood over him. He ran his hands over his hair and across his eyes.

  “I’m going to put some coffee on,” I said brightly. “How are you feeling?”

  He cleared his throat. “Aside from embarrassed, you mean?”

  “Yes, aside from that.”

  “Not too bad, actually.”

  “Advil and a glass of water before sleeping usually does the trick,” I said, busying myself with the coffee maker.

  “Kate. I’m so sorry.”

  I leaned against the door frame to the kitchen and frowned at him. “For what?”

  “For … for getting like that. For drunk texting you. For making you come get me.”

  “Oh. Well, then I’m sorry, too.”

  “For what?”

  “For getting like that. For drunk texting you. For making you come get me,” I said, referring to the time he’d rescued my drunk ass from a signing party.

  Adam smiled. “I think I texted you that time. And I think I offered to come get you.”

  “Details. I didn’t expect you to judge me. Why would you think I would judge you?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t. I judge myself.”

  “Adam, we all have our days. It’s kind of reassuring to know for sure that you are actually human, though,” I said, giving him a wink and reaching for two coffee mugs. “Cream? Sugar?”

  “I can get that,” he said, standing up from the couch and coming into the kitchen. My kitchen felt particularly small this morning, once I had Adam in there with me, in socks and jeans, hair tousled.

  Now that the coffee pot was full, I poured some into each of our mugs.

  He added a little milk to his cup and sat down at the table, sipping it. I sat down across from him.

  “So, wanna tell me what that was all about last night?” I asked.

  Adam focused on his coffee mug. “I think I’m still a little too focused on being embarrassed you saw me like that.”

  I shook my head and grunted. “Enough. What kind of BFF would I be if I didn’t get to see you all drunk and moody from time to time?”

  He laughed. “I didn’t know that was part of the criteria.”

  “Well, if my friendship with Logek is anything to base it on, it’s actually an integral part.”

  “Well, I guess I’m in, then.” He leaned back in his chair, holding his coffee cup in one hand. “You probably don’t want to mention to Dave that I spent the night,” he said with a humorless smile. “Guessing that wouldn’t go over well.”

  “I’m not seeing him anymore, so I couldn’t really care less whether he approves or not.”

  Adam leaned forward again. “Oh? What happened?”

  “What do you mean ‘what happened?’ It’s not like it was going anywhere, anyway. It was fine when we were just hanging out, but once he started pushing for more, I knew I didn’t want more.” I raised my eyebrows. “So, time to go.”

  Adam looked down and appeared to swirl the coffee in his mug. Without looking up at me, he asked, “So, it never became … more?”

  I smirked at him. “No, Adam. We didn’t have sex.”

  He did a lousy impersonation of being surprised by my declaration. “I wasn’t asking that. Just wondering … how close you two were.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He smiled at me.

  I took a sip from my cup. “So, you mentioned over text that you were out celebrating a birthday. Any chance it was your dad’s?” I asked softly.

  Adam’s eyes cut over to me immediately.

  “Your mom was over the other night,” I said. “She told me he’d passed away.”

  He nodded slowly but didn’t say anything.

  “I’m so sorry, Adam. I wish I’d known.”

  Adam shrugged and gave me a bland smile. “It was a long time ago.”

  I shook my head. “Don’t do that,” I said, pleading gently.

  He looked at me. “You can be exhausting, you know that?”

  “You’ll get used to it,” I said, giving him a wink.

  He sighed. “Dad would have been sixty-five yesterday.”

  “I finally understand what you were saying when you said your mom never got over your dad.”

  “Yeah. That’s been hard to watch. It was like a big part of her just died with him.” He shrugged. “And she seems perfectly okay with living like that.”

  “Maybe she is. She seems happy, don’t you think?”

  Adam seemed to consider that. “Yeah, I guess so.” Then he looked me in the eyes. “But you didn’t know her before.”

  I nodded. “Fair enough. I don’t think you can go through a loss like that and not have it change you.”

  “Exactly,” Adam said, as though I’d hit the nail on the head.

  I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You just make so much more sense to me now.”

  He laughed a little. “Now? I thought you’ve been able to see through me since day one.”

  “Well, that’s true.” I said with a cocky shrug.

  He chuckled again and looked at his watch. “I’ve got to get going.” He shook his head. “Remind me not to go out and tie one on on a work night again, okay?”

  “Check. I’ll drive you to your car.”

  “It’s only a few blocks,” he said, walking into the other room and slipping his shoes back on. “It’ll only take me ten minutes to get there.”

  “Still. It’ll only take a minute to drive you there.”

  “Kate,” he said, facing me and putting his hands on my shoulders. “You need to get ready for work. You’ve done enough. And I’m so grateful.”

  He wrapped me in a tight hug and kissed my forehead.

  “I’ll talk to you soon,” he said with a wave, before darting out the door.

  * * *

  Later that morning, at the office, Mags buzzed me.

  “Luann Sykes wants to know if she can come in and talk to you this morning.”

  I frowned. “Sure, I’m pretty open today.”

  “Alright. I’ll get it scheduled.”

  I was making notes for myself on Luann’s case, complete with the bits of evidence we had lined up to show that her ex was a lying piece of crap. My phone buzzed on the desk.

  Jonathan.

  Hey, want to grab dinner Saturday night?

  I had a momentary rerun of my confused emotions where he was concerned.

  Yeah, sounds good to me.

  Great! How about 7?

  Perfect.

  I’ll pick you up.
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  See you tomorrow:)

  Okay. No sweat. That gives me a whole twenty-four hours to figure out what the hell I’m doing with my life. Now that Jonathan had his newfound ambition stemming from his start-up company, I had the feeling it would be pulling him away—geographically anyway. And he was still hoping I would be in for the ride. Sure, we’d been split up for almost two months and, if anything, I was more confused than ever about what I wanted, but I’m sure I’ll be able to figure it all out in time for dinner tomorrow night. Piece of cake.

  Mags leaned in my doorway. “Hey, Luann wanted early, and you said you were open, so she’s going to be here in about fifteen minutes, okay?”

  “Got it,” I said with a nod.

  Fifteen minutes later, I was heading to the conference room to find out what new urgent info Luann had for me. When I went into the conference room, Luann was in tan khakis and a polo shirt with the insignia for the laboratory she worked for embroidered on the breast, like she was headed to work after this meeting. Her straight brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her face was still makeup free and startlingly pretty.

  Her gaze was focused out the large picture window at the beautiful cityscape below. When she saw me, she smiled and extended her hand.

  After shaking her hand, I sat down at the table across from her. “So, what’s going on?”

  She sighed loudly. “I’ve been giving this a lot of thought, Kate. A lot. And I don’t want this.”

  “Want what?” I asked, letting the confusion show on my face.

  “The fight.” She sighed again and smiled at me. Her expression was so Zen-like, so peaceful, I almost had goose bumps. She shook her head. “Yes, I picked the wrong guy, and yes, he hurt me. We live and we learn. But now, I get to choose. And I’m not willing to give him more of my time. More time being hurt. Being angry.” She flattened her palms to the table. “It isn’t worth it. He isn’t worth it.”

  I was nodding. Not like I could disagree with anyone displaying that level of maturity and self-possession. “But you realize you’re entitled to damages for his breach of the contract. With the phone records and Monica as a witness, it shouldn’t be difficult to prove—”