The Fifth Lesson (The Bay Boys #2) (30 page)

“That’s
not
what I’m doing.”
 
Adam shook his head.
 
“Everything started out fine.
 
But then I started feeling guilty…about us.
 
And I can’t shake it.
 
I’ve tried to, but I just can’t.
 
Whenever we’re together…I just…”

“It’s not wrong, Adam,” she tried to argue.

“It is.”
 
Christie looked as though he’d slapped her.
 
“At least it is to me.
 
I’m sorry.”

*
   
*
   
*

Christie could feel his warmth.
 
She could see his pulse pounding beneath the skin of his neck, the very same place where her lips had been a few moments earlier.
 
She felt warm yet cold.
 
Warm from his heat, from the way his hands were still cupping her hips.
 
But cold from his words.
 
Ice cold.

“Please don’t, Adam,” she urged quietly.

But he was already shaking his head.
 
His eyes revealed his turmoil.
 
Christie had known he’d been feeling guilty, from the time they pulled over on the highway driving to his parents’ home.
 
He’d offered to end their agreement.
 
He’d tried to create so many boundaries between them and all Christie wanted was to rip down every last one.

And now this.

“I’m sorry, Christie,” he said, his tone low.

“No, I—“

“This has gone too far.”

“Adam, just listen—“

“And I never meant for things to get out of hand...”

Frustration burst in her chest and she found herself yelling, “I’m falling in love with you.”
 
It was only after Adam abruptly stopped talking that she realized what she’d said.
 
Seeing his stunned expression made her feel self-conscious, but nevertheless, she quieted her voice and repeated, “I’m falling in love with you, Adam.
 
This isn’t wrong to me.”

Christie didn’t like the way Adam frowned.
 
Nor did she like the strained silence between them.

“Say something,” she pleaded softly, her mind in a panic.
 
Christie felt as though she was drifting alone in a sea of apprehension.
 
Did he feel the same way like Livy and Kate said?
 
Or had she read him horribly, horribly wrong?

His gaze shuttered.
 
And Christie felt her stomach drop and her heart start to crack.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said.
 
He wouldn’t meet her eyes any longer and Christie knew she had her answer.
 
“Christie, I’m so sorry.”

She’d read him horribly, horribly wrong.

“Alright,” she said, numb from head to toe.

As though watching from outside her body, Christie rose from the position in his lap as gracefully as possible.
 
But not before she accidentally flashed him a peek of her panties.
 
Her face burned in mortification and rejection.
 
What must he think of her?
 
She’d all but thrown herself at him.
 
Did he think she was a slut?

Adam didn’t stop her as she snagged her purse off the kitchen counter.
 
But her legs stilled as she glanced over her shoulder one last time, every part of her wishing that Adam would realize letting her walk away was a mistake.
 
He was staring straight forward at the TV screen, unblinking.
 
He wouldn’t look at her.

Tears swam into her vision.

As through in a stunned trance, Christie slipped on her sandals at the door, unlocked the latch, and left Adam’s house for what she presumed was the last time.

TWENTY-FIVE

I really know how to pick ‘em
, Christie thought miserably the next morning.

It was Monday.
 
Christie had decided to call in sick, despite the stroke it was sure to give Joseph.
 
Although, she didn’t have to pretend to feel under the weather when she’d called him earlier this morning.
 
Her voice had been scratchy and rough from lack of sleep and more than enough sobbing.
 
Joseph certainly believed that she had a sore throat.

She was curled up on the couch with Snazzy and a bowl of cereal for breakfast.
 
She didn’t know if she could even choke it down because her appetite was completely shot.

Snazzy seemed to sense her mood because he hadn’t even woken her up with his yowling this morning.
 
And now, he was blinking up at her, as though trying to gauge how upset she was.
 
He didn’t demand his morning treats, so Christie figured she must seem pretty upset.

Last night had blindsided her.

Completely.
 
Thoroughly.

And now she was recovering from the whiplash.

Adam’s rejection still rang through her head.
 
The way he couldn’t meet her eyes in the end burned.

Last night, she’d gone through the sadness.
 
She’d cried all the way home from his house.
 
She’d cried for two hours straight on the floor of her apartment.
 
And it was ugly crying, complete with sharp shuddering gasps and whole body tremors.

It was awful.

But this morning, the storm had passed.
 
In its wake, she still felt devastated.
 
But anger flared up as well.

He hadn’t even been able to look at her.

She’d been vulnerable last night.
 
She’d confessed she was falling in
love
with him.
 
And all he’d been able to say was ‘I’m sorry, Christie.’

Fuck that.

Adam Thornton broke her heart last night.
 
Disappointment and betrayal wasn’t anything new to her, but this cut deep.
 
If Christie had learned one thing in her life, it was that focusing on the negative had a way of destroying everything good.

Which is why she decided she didn’t want to mope around in her apartment all day.

An hour later, once she’d showered, applied copious amounts of concealer to hide her dark circles, and given Snazzy his morning treats, she drove a short distance to Livy’s cupcake shop.

She didn’t want to be alone.
 
And since Livy warned her she’d call today anyway to get an update, Christie figured she might as well tell her in person.

The shop was quiet when she entered, the little bell over the door signaling her arrival.
 
The decor relaxed her.
 
With its soft pastels and flowery accents, it looked similar to a chic tea shop.
 
But the giant display case, filled with Livy’s yummy and colorful creations, was what immediately drew the eye.

And behind it was her best friend.
 
Christie came in just as Livy was restocking the case with some of her famous red velvet cupcakes.

“Where’s Lillian?” Christie inquired, approaching.
 
Lillian was one of Livy’s employees, a sweet college student who worked the front counter while Livy, Alice, and Sarah baked and decorated in the kitchen.

“She’s off today,” Livy replied, sliding the panel behind the case back in its place to keep the baked goods fresh.
 
“Hi, sweetie.
 
Why aren’t you at work?”

“I called in sick.”

She could tell that Livy heard a lot in her words because she poked her head into the kitchen and told her employees that she was taking a short break.
 
Then, she led Christie to one of the few tables that were placed around the shop.

“How’d it go with Adam last night?” she asked solemnly, like she already knew the answer.
 
Christie let her bag slump to the ground before settling herself in the chair.
 
All she had to do was level Livy with ‘the look’ and her friend huffed out a breath.
 
“Oh, Christie.
 
I’m so sorry.
 
I thought…” she trailed off.

“Thought that Adam and I would get together so that there could be three couples in our group?” she asked, bitterness creeping into her tone.

“You know that’s not true.
 
I genuinely thought he had feelings for you,” she argued, then winced.
 
Christie felt a stab go straight to her heart.
 
“I’m sorry, Christie.
 
I didn’t mean it like that.
 
Of course he has feelings for you.”

“Yeah, and apparently they don’t stem any farther than friendship.”

Livy hesitated.
 
“What did he say?
 
How did it happen?”

Christie recounted the events of last night, only tearing up towards the end.

“I should’ve known, Livy,” she whispered.
 
“Adam’s so smart and successful.
 
Yeah, maybe he was attracted to me.
 
But what else could I offer him?
 
Do you think he thought I wasn’t good enough for him?”

She was starting to feel sorry for herself.
 
Again.
 
Her emotions were out of control, ranging from anger to melancholy in the span of a second.
 
God, she was a mess.

“Don’t say that,” Olivia hissed, her lips pressed tight.
 
“He’s obviously a complete fool.
 
Maybe it’s
him
who’s not good enough for
you
.”

Christie managed a watery smile.
 
“As my best friend, you’re obligated to say that.”

Livy was about to protest—Christie could see it in the way her spine straightened—but the bell rang over the door and a customer strolled in.
 
Christie was allowed a brief moment to collect herself before Livy was back at the table with her.

They sat across from each other, neither saying a word.

Then, Livy said, “Do you…do you think maybe Adam just needs time to process it all?
 
I mean, the guy has never been in a relationship before.
 
Maybe you just shocked the hell out of him and he reacted poorly.”

Christie wanted to believe that.
 
She really did.
 
But then she remembered his carefully blank expression, how he hadn’t even turned to look at her as she walked out of his house for the last time.
 
Christie shook her head.
 
“He was the reserved and cool Adam I saw at your barbecue.
 
He knew what he was doing.”

“Oh.”

“Oh God, Livy,” she groaned, dropping her head into her hands.
 
“How am I ever supposed to face him after this?”

“It might not happen overnight, Christie.
 
But eventually, you two can be friends again.
 
You guys won’t be able to avoid each other for long.”

Livy’s words sounded more like an omen than a reassurance.

Christie whispered, “I was falling in love with him, Livy.
 
He was so wonderful and he made me so happy.
 
And now…shit, I don’t know.
 
I feel lost again.
 
How can someone make me feel so happy and then so sad the next moment?”

“It’ll all work itself out, sweetie.
 
I promise you that.”

*
   
*
   
*

The world around Adam was blurry.
 
It was rushing past him as his feet pounded the pavement, creating a melodic thumping that calmed his frazzled nerves and eased his mind.

Taking a deep breath in through his nostrils, he blew it slowly out his mouth.
 
He could run for miles like this.

He never liked to run in glasses though.
 
He’d taken them off before heading out the door.
 
Perhaps it was dangerous, but Adam knew his usual running path like the back of his hand.
 
And somehow, with the world fuzzy, everything made more sense.

Adam had had bad vision since childhood.
 
His parents had fitted him for glasses at the ripe age of nine.

One of his favorite moments of the day came at bedtime.
 
He’d had this glow lamp in his room and glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to his ceiling.
 
He would take off his glasses, let the world go blurry, and stare at the purple blobs and neon green stars, which had been magically transformed into soft orbs of light.
 
Adam would put his glasses back on.
 
Then take them off.
 
Put them on.
 
Take them off.
 
He often thought it was like magic.

He’d done the same thing in his family’s vineyard.
 
He would run between the grapevines after dinner and when he was satisfied that no one would find him, he would lay in the dirt and stare up at the sunset colors in the sky.
 
He’d take off his glasses.
 
The grapevines became soft around him, but the sky was still the same color of soft pinks and oranges.
 
He’d feel the world go quiet.
 
He’d lay there until the sky turned dark, until the stars became soft orbs of light, and until he’d hear his mother calling to him from the back patio.

Across the street, he caught a flash of blonde hair.
 
He squinted, probably looking like a nut job, but his heart sped up at the prospect of it being Christie.

Nope.

Only a woman walking her dog.

Disappointment crushed him.
 
Those brief seconds robbed him of his breath, more than his run ever could, so he slowed to a walk.
 
He was almost at the three mile point, which meant he had three miles to trace back to his house.
 
A welcome distraction.