Broken (12 page)

“Every time the guy says ‘you like it like that'…”

“Or the girl says ‘oh, yeah, baby,'” I added.

“We have to do a shot.”

Within half an hour, I was feeling so mellow I could have slid from the sofa onto the floor and stayed there.

“She likes it like that!” we cheered in unison, clinked glasses, and took the shot.

“Would I like it like that?” I wondered out aloud.

Angie laughed. “You would. Not with that gorilla, but yeah, ya would.”

Maybe it was the alcohol affecting my mood, but a wave of regret and despair washed over me.

“I'm never gonna have sex again,” I muttered. “I shouldn't have left Charles.”

“Are ya kiddin' me? You were married for seven years—
seven
—and he never made your toes curl the way Adam did.”

“We could've worked on it,” I offered.

“A leopard can't change his stripes.”

I frowned. “Leopards don't have stripes.”

“Exactly,” she said, as if it was a done deal.

We sat in silence for a while, watching the Neanderthal on-screen. Every minute or two we took a shot, as the script seemed to consist of very little other than the two phrases we'd picked out.

My head was buzzing from the Patrón, until one singular thought entered my mind: I needed to speak to Charles.

Picking up my phone from the coffee table, I barely managed to unlock the keypad. “I'm gonna call Charles, see how he's doin'.”

Before my sluggish reflexes could react, Angie took a dive at me, snatching the phone from my hand and tumbling off my lap and onto the floor, where she sprang up like a ninja and scurried into the kitchen.

“I won't let ya do it,” she called, bouncing up and down while holding the phone above her head.

I raced over, blocking the only entrance in or out from behind the kitchen counter. “Gimme that phone.”

She zigged and I zagged, resembling something that might be seen at a wrestling match.

“Nope, ain't gonna happen.” She was still holding the phone above her head, as if she were six feet tall and I wouldn't be able to reach. But she was shorter than me, and with her heels kicked off long ago, she was barely up to my shoulder.

I made a play for it, but she was surprisingly quick for someone who was plastered. She ducked left and I just managed to catch her leg as she darted past. Angie went sliding along the polished floorboards and I followed her down, both of us sprawled on our stomachs, laughing our asses off.

Crawling to the phone that had slid under the coffee table, I grabbed it up, holding it behind my back.

“Back away, Ang.”

She raised her head to look at me for a moment, before admitting defeat and flopping face-first back down on the floor.

Dialing my phone was a whole other challenge as the keypad blurred into three. Finally, I found Charles's number and hit the call button.

“Evelyn, this is a pleasant surprise,” he drawled. “To what do I owe the honor?”

Closing my eyes, I imagined his perfect teeth, formed into the rehearsed smile, beaming at me from the other end of the line.

“Hello, Charles, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year,” I said cheerily. “Just thought I'd call to say hi and see how y'all are doin'.”

In my mind I sounded perfectly normal, but he picked up my slurred words straightaway.

“You sound like you've been havin' a good time. Where are ya, Evelyn?”

I looked around, frowning. “I'm on the sofa.”

His resonating chuckle echoed down the phone. “And where's that sofa?”

In the livin' room.

“Oh, I'm in the Hamptons. It's just lovely here. You should see the place. It's right on the beach. You'd love it, Charles.”

We chatted amicably for a few minutes, Charles asking me exactly where the house was, and me trying to give directions by picturing an area in my foggy brain that I didn't really know. It was good to hear his voice, familiar. Throughout our separation he had remained hopeful, always making it known that he didn't want the marriage to end. For him it was for life, and I'd always thought it was for me, too, but I just couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't face the prospect of one more day waking up beside him and feeling empty. One more day of having to wear the false smile and pretend that everything was wonderful when I was dying, little by little, inside. I had truly believed we would both be happier apart. Now? Well now that I had experienced what was out there in the world, maybe I had been wrong. Maybe feeling nothing for the man you were with was better than being heartbroken. I knew Charles so well and with a little stroking of his ego I was sure we could live harmoniously together.

We said our goodbyes and promised to talk again soon, maybe even catch up for lunch. By the time I'd hung up the phone, a sense of relief had washed over me. I wasn't cut out for the big bad world. If the shock of my leaving could help me convince Charles to accept my writing career and perhaps attend counseling, the possibility of reconciliation seemed promising.

Angie had finally picked herself up from the floor and was sitting beside me. “I must be seein' things. There's either a drop-dead gorgeous guy who's just materialized at your door, or I seriously need to drink more often so he's a permanent figment of my imagination.”

Trying to focus as my head slowly turned, my heart leapt to my throat when I saw Adam standing on the other side of the glass, hands on hips, looking totally lickable.

“Humph, that's Adam.”

“Oh, yeah, baby!” Angie cried, but I wasn't sure if it was in response to the video clip, or Adam's presence. Either way, she took another shot.

“I ain't lettin' him in,” I said, scowling, but Max had other ideas as he raced to the window, his tail wagging furiously as he jumped in circles waiting for me to unlock the door.

“Yes, you are. You're gonna let him in and make him grovel. Then when he's groveled a significant amount, you're gonna drag him into the bedroom and let him do all the unspeakable things we've been watchin' for the last hour.”

I staggered over to the door, tripping on the edge of the rug and nearly falling on my ass.

“Yes, Mr. Walker, what can I do for ya?” Squinting my eyes, I tried to see just one of him as I slid the glass open.

He wore a devilishly handsome smile as he leaned down to say hello to his excited best friend. “I just got back and came straight over.” His hand went to my cheek. “I missed you, Evie. Thought I'd come over and bring in the new year with you. Looks like I've missed the party, though.” He frowned, his gaze shifting from me to the laptop, as the grunting on the clip grew louder, piquing my suspicion that Angie had cranked the volume up. “What are you watching?”

I swung around, holding firmly to the door handle for balance. “Angie, my very best friend in the world, and I are watchin' porn—for research.”

“Oh quick, Evie, shot…she likes it like that!”

I raced over to my glass but Adam was quicker, taking the glass and downing the Patrón himself.

He turned to Angie, who was studying him through squinted eyes. “Hi, I'm Adam,” he said with a sexy-as-sin smile.

Angie gave him a cool nod before glancing in my direction. I couldn't help it—just seeing Adam had me turning to goo all over again. She sighed, reading my puppy-dog eyes like a polished novel.

“Pleased to meet you, Adam. Why don't ya have a drink?”

Smiling, he took hold of the Patrón. “I think I've got some catching up to do,” he said as he filled the glass and shot that one back as well.

Snatching the bottle from his hand, I lost my balance, toppling back onto the sofa with a thud. Adam caught the bottle just in time before it hit the floor, placing it back on the table.

“I think you need some fresh air, Evie.” He held out his hand. “Come with me.”

Impressively, I managed to make it to the steps leading from the deck to the sand before planting my backside down on the rough wood.

For the longest time we sat quietly, watching and listening to the ocean. Adam's hand rested gently on my knee, his thumb lightly stroking my leg. It was warm and comforting; then in my drunken haze, tears rose and tipped over my lashes.

Finally, Adam spoke. “I think I'm missing something here, baby. Can you fill me in, please? I thought you were okay with me going to Philly for a couple of days. You said you were fine.” He studied my face, his brow furrowed. “I'm guessing you weren't really okay with it.”

My head clunked against the railing and stayed there, my silent tears turning into loud, blubbering sobs. “You…you left me here and now Abannel's…got…got a beard rash on her cooch, and she can't walk.”

He sniggered beside me. “Baby, if Abannel's got a rash on her cooch, it has nothing to do with me.”

“Ya know her boobs ain't real, right?” For some reason it seemed important that he know that. “I mean, when I lie on my back, my boobs go
squish
and spread to the sides. Hers would stand up straight.”

Adam covered his mouth to hide the laughter. “Thank you for the visual, and yes I know they're not real. I helped pay for them.”

“Why'd ya do that?”

“Because she wanted them, and I wanted to make her happy.”

“Would you pay for my fake boobs?” I inquired.

“You don't need implants. Yours are perfect the way they are, even if they do go squish when you lie down.”

“You went to see her, though, didn't you? That's why ya went runnin' off to Philadelphia.”

“What? No, hang on. I told you I had an appointment. She had to sign some documents for me—that was why she was here—but I didn't see her while I was away. I didn't even call her, I promise.”

I could hear talking, but I wasn't listening. All I could picture was Adam doing to Miss Freaking America what I'd been watching for the last hour.

“Evie…Evelyn, listen to me.”

I turned my head, tears blurring my vision.

“Oh, Evie.” He held my hands, squeezing them gently in his, his thumbs stroking my knuckles. “From past experience I know you probably won't remember half of what I'm about to say, which is why I feel comfortable saying it. I came here tonight to bring in the new year with you, Evie. I had given up that this coming year would be one that I would even want to welcome, but meeting you has changed all that. It's given me hope and it's made me want to fight. You won't understand what that means, and that's fine.” He lifted my hand, placing it over his heart. “But I want you to know that there's an island in here for you, and it's one I want to spend a lot of time on.”

I tapped my chest. “You're in here too.”

My head was swimming and I suddenly felt hot and clammy. Standing, I just managed to lean over the railing as tequila came flooding out, burning my throat.

“Now I know you definitely won't remember anything I just said.”

My legs buckled, but Adam's arms were there to catch me. One hand went to my hair, pulling it back and holding it as the next wave of nausea hit me. My body and mind weren't connected as Adam led me back inside.

“I'm putting Evie to bed. I think she's had enough merriment for one night.”

“I'll do that,” Angie slurred, attempting to stand.

“No. I don't wanna go to bed with you. I wanna go to bed with him,” I mumbled.

“Did he grovel, hon?”

“I've got an island, Ang.”

“That a girl. Go get him, ya little porn star.”

Adam's chest vibrated and I'm sure he was laughing his ass off, but I couldn't turn my head to check.

We made it to the bathroom before I had to dive for the toilet, dry retching. The tiles were hard and cold beneath my knees as my head rested on the seat, but I couldn't move. I was positive I was going to die.

Adam steered me to the floor, where he had laid a quilt for padding. He sat leaning against the bath while I gingerly placed my head in his lap and he tucked the quilt around me. Sleep began to consume me as he stroked my hair tenderly.

“Sorry I spoiled your New Year's Eve,” I said softly as my eyes closed and I lay perfectly still to stop the room from spinning.

“You didn't spoil anything, Buttercup. There's nowhere else I would rather be.”

I have got to stop drinking. My last fuzzy recollection of New Year's Eve was lying on the bathroom floor, the room spinning and my stomach churning as Adam stroked my hair.

Adam.

He came back, and although I can't recall the conversation on the deck all that clearly, I have an overwhelming sense that he chose me, and that my bliss bubble has been repaired. Closing my eyes, I tried to replay what Adam and I had talked about. One thing stood out, bringing a tear to my eye. I had an island in his heart. Not only was he thinking of me with affection, but he had also recalled what I'd told him about Mimi and shown me he'd been listening by using her analogy.

Flashes of penises came to mind, making my heart skip before I disappointedly remembered none of them were Adam's.

Angie, Patrón, and porn—that was a lethal combination.

I chuckled, fully expecting my head to pound, but I was surprised that my skull didn't echo with the sound bouncing off my dehydrated brain as it usually did. I guess vomiting all the alcohol back up had been a good thing.

Oh that was right, there'd been vomit, and a lot of it.

As I ran my hand over my body, I tried to remember how I'd gotten undressed and into bed. Nope, no memory of that particular event whatsoever.

The bed compressed as someone climbed in behind me, wrapping a muscular arm around my waist.

“Good morning, sleepyhead. How do you feel?”

My eyes closed as the contours of his body pressed against me. Adam's voice was so smooth and sensual. I'd missed it over the last couple of days. Soft kisses traced my shoulder blade, sending a wave of goose bumps down my spine. I relaxed, allowing him to pull me closer to him, my butt wiggling into his hips until we were spooned perfectly.

“Did you undress me last night?” I asked with a smile.

“More like early hours this morning. I had to wait until you'd emptied your stomach before I could move you to tackle your clothes.”

I didn't know how I felt about that. I wish I'd been sober and awake to enjoy it. Picturing the scenario of Adam unbuttoning my jeans and slowly sliding them down my legs gave me a shiver. I wondered if he had been turned on as he uncovered my body, layer by layer.

“So you took all my clothes off except for…” I reached down, double-checking my panties were still there. “Except for one item.”

Adam laughed. “Yeah, well, I couldn't put you to bed dressed. You'd puked all over yourself.”

I cringed. Any images of a sexy unveiling went
poof
from my mind.

“And on my jeans, and the quilt you were lying on.”

“Oh my God, I'm so sorry. Even my bra?”

Adam's face rubbed against my back as his hands ran over my stomach until he reached my breasts and cupped them. “No, the bra coming off was for my benefit. But don't worry, I didn't take advantage while you were unconscious.”

Something felt…different. Adam was kissing my neck, but there was no tickle.

I turned to look over my shoulder. A fresh-faced man grinned back at me.

“Adam, where's your beard?” He still looked devilishly handsome, only five years younger.

“I shaved it off.” He ran his hand around his smooth jaw. “It was okay to look at, not so good for kissing you, though.”

I couldn't believe he'd gotten rid of his beard because of my chafing. If my mouth didn't feel like a trash can, I would have tried the new Adam out.

Adam had a wicked grin on his face. “Besides, I figured if you could defuzz, then so could I.”

What?

He chuckled cockily. “I thought a raccoon had climbed through the window and gone to sleep in your waste basket in the bathroom; then I realized it was your beaver, ripped out on wax strips.”

My cheeks flared hot, but Adam was laughing his ass off.

“I'm hoping you went through all that pain for my benefit. That I'll get to see, and touch…and taste.” He bit his lip suggestively.

I nodded as heat radiated down through my body due to the images Adam was invoking.

“So shaving this was the least I could do.”

“Annabel said you wouldn't shave it off for her,” I commented with a grin.

Adam brushed the hair from my forehead, tucking it behind my ear. “Don't give
Abannel
, as you called her last night, a second thought.”

I laughed at my name mix-up.

“Remember when we first met, I told you that I've known some stunning girls who have been really conceited and ugly on the inside? Well, she's queen of the conceited, cold-hearted bitches.” His fingertips tickled up the side of my body, making me giggle.

“So I'm the other type of girl? The regular girl?”

“No, baby, there is nothing regular about you.” His lips brushed my cheek. “You are a category all your own. You are beautiful and sexy and sweet. You have looks to rival Annabel's and a heart of gold.”

My heart swelled. I'd never met anyone like Adam. I'd never had anybody straight out tell me what they thought of me, and it gave me such a confidence boost, to think someone as amazing as Adam thought so highly of me.

We snuggled together, wrapped in each other's arms. Adam was dressed only in his painting jeans, the button on them torn off so they sat low on his hips. My hand tenderly ran up and down his abdomen, over his chest and down his arm, and he squeezed me tighter. As my fingertips descended the peaks of his abdomen once more, continuing down to his jeans, a groan rumbled in his throat.

As his face brushed against my hair, he said hoarsely, “You can keep going if you like.”

My heart rate sped up instantly. With a slightly firmer hand, I ran the tips of my fingers under the band of his jeans.

“Hmm, no underwear,” I observed.

“You're lucky I'm wearing jeans. You looked so inviting lying here I got hard just looking at you. I was tempted to slip in beside you while you were sleeping.”

I looked up at his face to see if he was teasing me.

He gave me a playful wink. “But I want you to make the first move, Evie. When you're ready, just let me know. You can either tell me or just tackle me to the ground, rip my clothes off, and slide on. Either one will do.”

There was a knock on the door, before an extremely hungover Angie poked her head into the room.

“Wow, y'all look better than I feel.” Her hair was sticking up on one side, makeup smudged under her eyes. “I guess waterin' the plants over the railin' with all that alcohol last night was a good thing.”

“It has to come out somehow.” I laughed. “I'm surprised you remember much of last night.”

She tapped her finger to her temple. “I recall everythin' when I'm drunk, which is sometimes a curse, especially when I've had the beer goggles on. Sometimes I wish I could forget.”

Entering the room, she gingerly lay on the bed beside me.

“Ya smell like vomit,” she told me, screwing up her nose.

I turned to Adam for confirmation; he just shrugged and kept cuddling me. “You smell good enough to eat.”

“No, seriously, I think ya threw up in your hair.” Angie grabbed a stuck-together clump of curl. “Look, that's gross.”

Adam laughed as he sat up. “Only a true friend would tell you when you stink and look gross. I'm going to go run you a bath, baby.”

“Thanks,
baby
,” Angie said, cheekily, “but we haven't known each other long enough for you to come in with me.”

Adam entered the bathroom, laughing and shaking his head.

I shampooed my hair three times just to be certain all the grossness was gone. Then I drained out the dirty water and refilled the tub, soaking in the heady floral oils until the water turned cold.

Adam didn't come into the bath with me and I have to admit, I was a little disappointed. He did poke his head in the doorway a few times to make sure I hadn't dozed off and drowned, or at least that was the excuse he gave. Every time he came in, I was so close to inviting him to join me, but I couldn't find the words. I even tried to imagine he was my fireman, Mac, and I was the reporter, Stacey, hoping that role-play would get me over my apprehension. I imagined Stacey seductively reclining in the bubbles, her long slender legs resting on the edge of the bath as Mac came in. He would saunter over to Stacey, running his hand up her leg and under the water as she subtly gave him enough space between her thighs to reach his end goal.

But this was real life, not a book, and that just wasn't me. I didn't have a seductive bone in my body, and I couldn't pretend I knew what to do when I'd never had anyone look at me with desire in their eyes the way Adam did. Truth be told, I didn't want to blow it. To turn something that should be romantic or sexy into something corny and make him laugh would be soul destroying. So I played it safe. Every time he came in, I sank down a little bit farther under the bubbles and told him I was fine.

By the time I climbed over the edge of the tub, I was satisfactorily pruned. As I made my way to the living area, a familiar aroma hit me, bringing tears to my eyes.

At first I thought it was Angie cooking, but when I saw her sprawled on the sofa, I realized Adam was playing chef again.

“I hope I've done this right,” he said as I entered the kitchen. “I've never cooked hog's jaw, black-eyed peas, and greens before.”

Wrapping my arms around his waist from behind, I squeezed him tight, resting my head against his back.

“I can't believe you're cookin' a traditional New Year's Day meal from the South. How'd you even know 'bout this?”

“I've done my research, Buttercup.” He spun in my arms so we were facing each other. “Isn't it bad luck if you
don't
eat these things today?”

I nodded and smiled at this wonderful, thoughtful man.

He kissed my nose. “So we don't want any bad luck.”

Surprisingly, I was ravenous. I guess emptying my stomach the night before had given me a wicked appetite. I stuffed my face, having second and third helpings as Adam reclined in his chair, his stunned expression showing how amazed he was at how much I could put away.

Angie picked at her plate. “Ya know, I haven't lived in the South for nearly six years, so I don't think the superstition applies to me anymore.” She picked up one pea on her fork and forced it into her mouth. “I mean, isn't there a statute of limitations or somethin'?”

“Do ya wanna risk it?” I asked, cleaning my plate. “‘Cause I sure don't.”

The cogs ticked over in her head as she weighed up her options. Resignedly, she took a bite of each component on her plate, then pushed it aside.

“I think I need some fresh air.” Angie stood, giving me that “come with me” look that I knew so well. It was the look she used when we were out and she wanted to talk about a guy. We'd go into the bathroom and whatever had been bottling up would come spilling out.

I shook my head at her. I didn't want to talk because I knew it would be about Adam.

She enhanced “the look”, her eyes flaring.

I glared back, my lips pursed.

“Wow, you two are having a whole conversation without saying a word.”

Rolling my eyes at Angie for being so obvious, I glanced over at Adam.

He was smiling, watching the performance we were putting on. “She obviously wants to talk to you about something, so why don't you two get some fresh air while I clean up?”

We shrugged on our coats and walked down to the water's edge in silence. As soon as we were far enough away from the house that she was confident Adam couldn't hear, Angie started.

“What happened to bein' focused on the book and swearin' off men, Evie? I mean, last night was one thing—you deserved an explanation and maybe a little fun—but as soon as he comes back and gives you that come-hither look, you turn to mush and it's as if nothing happened.”

We stopped walking and perched on my favorite rock that was sheltered from the chilling wind. “It wasn't what I thought. He didn't go to see her in Philly.”

“You said when she was here you saw him getting dressed.”

Gazing out into the distance, I nodded, unable to meet her eyes.

“So why was he undressed? Did you ask him?”

I turned to face her. “No, I didn't ask, but I believe that nothin' happened and I believe that she wasn't the reason he went to Philly. He promised me he didn't even see her while he was there.”

“What'd he tell ya?”

It was a bit fuzzy, but I could piece most of it together. “She had to give him some documents, which is why she was here. He said he had an appointment, which is why he had to leave.”

I could tell from her face that she wasn't buying it. “It's plausible. I mean, if they had property together, maybe they had to tie up loose ends. Charles and I will have documents to sign. It's possible.”

She shrugged at my explanation and I hoped that would be the end of it.

“So why was he half dressed if she was bringin' him documents?”

Now it was my turn to shrug. “Maybe she had to sign somethin' medical and needed to give him a physical examination to say he was healthy?”