Calm Like Home (16 page)

“Hey, blue eyes.” He grins widely. “Happy birthday.” His voice is gruff from sleep and oh so sexy, and when he kisses me it's the best gift I could ever ask for. I don't think I could ever want anything more. But then he's moving over me and somehow everything is better. His body gently glides over mine, slow and smooth and perfect. He's loving me from the inside out, pounding my heart in my chest, bleeding me of all reservations. I let his kisses, his touch, his whole body devour me. I dissolve into every freckle, every muscular line, every move he makes until the world falls away and I spiral into pure euphoria.

Adam collapses beside me, chest heaving, and kisses my forehead.

"Wow. Just wow."

"Yeah," I pant, grinning. "Wow is right."

My whole body aches with love for him. I feel it pulsing in my fingertips, swelling thickly in my chest, swirling round and round in my brain. I link my pinky in his and roll to face him. I wish I could find it in me to tell him what he means to me, how everything has been amplified in his absence, but the words won't come. They get lodged in my chest, caught in my throat.

He pulls me closer until we’re completely entwined, a tangled mess of sheets and limbs. Being so close brings new meaning to the word
us
because I can hardly tell the end of him from the end of me. As we lay there, Adam keeps shifting, pressing his skin against mine in every way possible and I have to laugh.

“Would you sit still?”

“Can't. Must. Get. Closer.”

I giggle and push closer, aligning my toes against his, grasping his body tighter in my arms, pressing my cheek to his chest.

“That's better!” he laughs.

He looks down at me and tucks a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. His brown eyes have a depth to them that’s different than I remember and I wonder what he’s thinking, but I don't ask. I just stare right back and hope that somehow my eyes convey all the things I can't yet bring myself to say.

“So what would you have done if I wasn't here last night? Go back home and see your parents?”

He exhales sharply, almost a laugh, but it’s harsh, weighted, not the usual light, joyful sound I’m used to. “Not much of a home to go back to. They’re never around.”

“Even after you come all the way back?”

“I don't normally come back unless it’s break.”

“Not even for your birthday?”

He shakes his head lightly and presses his palm against mine, matching up the pads of each of our fingers. I can feel the rough calluses, evidence he's been playing. I rub my index finger against the jagged edges, gently caressing them, then curling my fingers around his, I draw his hand to my lips. I kiss each pad, slow and soft, rubbing the rough tips along my lips. His face is relaxed, his eyes half-closed in a serene daze.

“When did you start playing?” I ask, my lips brushing his fingertips as I say the words.

His eyes flutter shut. “Long time ago.”

“You're really good.”

He nods once, a slow flick of his head. His eyes open but he keeps them trained on my chest, avoiding my gaze.

“Do you ever play anywhere?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, it's mostly just for me. Well, and now you.”

“You’ve never played for anyone?” My voice betrays my astonishment.

“Damien’s probably heard me through the walls but that's about it.”

“That's too bad, Adam. People would be blown away.” I try to meet his eyes, but he won’t look at me.

“People usually like to listen to happy songs. Mine always seem to be sad, even when they’re about you.”

I can't imagine why. I don't know how this happy-go-lucky guy is capable of making such heartbreakingly sorrowful music or why he wouldn't want to share it with anyone.

“Now I feel special,” I say brightly.

“You should.” His eyes meet mine. “You are.”

I lean in to kiss him, savoring the softness of his lips against mine. I don't ever want him to pull away. I don't ever want to let him go. Part of me is terrified that once I do, that’ll be the end of us. That this weekend is nothing more than a rare exception to the usual withdrawal.

We stay entwined in my bed into the evening. Finally my phone rings, bringing reality crashing back.

“How’s it already seven?” I mutter. “I’m supposed to be at my parents’ house for dinner.”

“Yeah, I should probably hit the road. Gotta get back to the grind.” He says the words so solemnly that my heart breaks a little. I hate the reservation creeping back into his delivery. I hate that he already feels so far away.

“Thank you for coming, Adam.” I try to make my voice reflect what his visit has meant to me. His fingers snake through my hair and he pulls me closer.

“How could I not?” he asks against my lips. “And miss this?” He flips so I’m pinned beneath him, my hands clasped in his own up above my head. He begins trailing light kisses all along my neck. “And this?” His lips make their way painfully slowly down to my chest. “And this?” He plants tender kisses over my skin, toying with me.

I withdraw my hands from his and wrap my arms around his torso, pulling him against me. His body begins to move slow and rhythmic over mine. I grip his shoulders and arch my back, pressing into him. I want to feel him everywhere. I only ever want to feel his smooth skin and his warm breath and his callused fingertips. I want to smell his scent and taste his mouth and hear his voice saying my name. I want to completely forget what it ever felt like to be apart, only knowing the elation of feeling his fingers softly caressing the contours of my body. I soak it all in, through every pore, memorizing exactly what this feels like for the instant he’s away.

When the intensity breaks free he kisses the tip of my nose and murmurs, “Happy birthday.” I watch him rise from the bed and begin to pull his clothes on. When he’s ready I walk him to the door. He draws me into him one last time, furiously kissing my cheeks, my forehead, my lips. He holds both my hands in his, looping his fingers through mine. Finally he looks me deep in the eyes and says with a smile, “Thanks for having me, Alexa. It was okay…” He winks then pulls the door shut behind him.

And just like that, he’s gone.

I rush to make it to my parents’ house for dinner. They pretend not notice the late arrival and the flush in my cheeks and the buoyant shift in my usually even demeanor. We talk about school and work and how my aquarium is holding up. The one thing we don’t talk about is Adam. I don’t know how to tell them I’ve fallen, I’ve soared, I’ve become completely enamored with a boy. After filling my arms with gifts and hugs, they send me to meet up with Annabelle and the others.

I bound up to her outside the bar, my entire body singing with happiness. “He came!” I shriek. “He came, he came, he came!”

“What?” she squeals with delight, obviously pleased to see me so chipper.

“Adam. He came.”

“Well of course he did.” She grins naughtily and I smack her in the stomach with my clutch.

“So where is he?” She looks over each of my shoulders excitedly.

I frown. “He had to drive back. But he came last night, just showed up at my door.” I lean my head against her shoulder, breathless. “It was absolutely perfect, Annabelle. It was like he never even left.”

She laughs. “I’m glad it really has been a
happy
birthday!”

I pull into my apartment complex after our night out to a nag of melancholy. I know how empty my apartment will feel once I set foot inside. When he’s here, it truly feels like home. Without him it just feels like something’s missing. Like a part of
me
is missing. I wish I could sit outside forever rather than face my room without him in it.

I’m slowly trudging up the steps, tucking away the dread I feel, when I notice something stuck to my front door. When I get closer I realize it’s a card, with the letters
AC
printed on the envelope in that familiar vertical scrawl. Breathless, I peel the tape off the door and tear the envelope open, not even bothering to go inside.

The front of the card has a picture of two grizzly bears luxuriating beneath a ray of sunlight. Their necks are crossed so that one is laying over the other. They are entwined, cuddling, looking completely at peace. Inside, the card is blank, but he’s written a note in that same handwriting I’ve come to love so much.

Everything is so much brighter when I’m with you
.
Happy Birthday my bear!!!

-Adam

Tears spring into my eyes and cascade over my cheeks. The card wrecks me in so many ways. It’s thoughtful and honest and completely unexpected. My chest already feels so empty and raw with him gone, and yet I can’t imagine any way my birthday could’ve been better.

Chapter 17

I don't know how it’s possible to miss him more, but I do. I had thought, foolishly, that him visiting me would tide me over. Instead it brought me back. It made me remember the million reasons why I don't ever want to be without Adam in my life.

I drag myself to class on speech day, dreading every second of the day. I can tell Marcus is nervous the minute he walks through the door. He doesn't even say hi, just collapses into his chair, his bag spilling onto the floor beside him.

I nudge his arm with the end of my pen. “It's going to be fine. You'll be great.”

He frowns in my general direction and continues in his stupor. When the professor asks for volunteers I glance at him and he meets my eye.

“Might as well get it over with,” he whispers, although the tone of his voice suggests he would rather pull his own toenails off with pliers than go up to give our speech.

We make our way to the front and I step to the podium on shaky legs. Marcus stands behind me and off to the side a little ways. He clutches his notecards and tries to act casual as he scans the room. My heart is pounding in my ears but I force a smile, take a deep breath, and begin. I’m grateful I have the notecards, not only to guide the speech, but also to have something to hold. It helps quell my nerves and still my nervous fingers. I force myself to glance up as I speak into the microphone, enough to earn points for eye contact without focusing on individual faces in the crowd. Thankfully, the color-coding from my collection of pens helps me emphasize all the points I wanted to make. It’s not a perfect speech but it’s certainly not terrible.

When I reach the halfway point I step aside and let Marcus take over, grateful to be done. He clears his throat and begins in a steady voice. If I didn’t already know he was nervous I don't think I'd be able to tell at all, his voice never waivers, his hands never fidget or betray him. When we get back to our desks, I scrawl him a note in my notebook.

You were AMAZING!!!

He grins when he sees my note, a rare full smile, then writes a note of his own.

That was all you. Way to set the stage!

I relax smugly into my seat, suddenly feeling a lot more confident about my grade in public speaking.

Friday after class Marcus looks over at me as he's tucking his laptop into his bag.

“Plans this weekend?”

“Not much. Work and studying.”
And missing Adam. I’m going to spend a lot of time missing Adam.
“I’m pretty lame.”

“Well I'm working tonight and tomorrow so if you get bored you should stop by The Berg downtown. Drinks are on me.”

“You don't have to do that.”

He stands to leave, shouldering his bag. “Consider it payback for getting me through that speech.”

“That was all you!” I laugh.

“You set the bar high. I didn't want to be the one to mess it up,” he says over his shoulder as he walks out the door.

After work I nonchalantly tell Annabelle about Marcus’s offer. I know it’d do me good to get out of the house, to get me away from my empty bedroom and all the raw memories it holds. I have no doubt she’ll be up for it. A night out means the prospect of meeting new guys, which Annabelle will never turn down. This could be the night she meets
The One
.

When we reach The Berg I spot Marcus at the bar. We slide into two vacant barstools in front of him.

“Hey, Alexa! What can I get you?” he calls out over the noise. He looks more relaxed here than he does in class. He’s wearing a loose-fitting t-shirt and jeans and he slightly bobs along to the music as he mixes drinks behind the bar.

When he turns to make our drinks Annabelle yells in my ear. ”You forgot to mention that he's hot.”

“Whoops!” I grin. “Go nuts.”

“Of course you don’t care,” she laughs. “You’ve got Lover Boy steaming up your weekends.”

I shrug, still uncertain what his visit last weekend even meant. His showing up at my door unintentionally filled my head with hope for some sort of future. But I haven’t heard from him this week. My phone hasn’t rung. I can’t even be disappointed, really. He’s never once fed me promises about a future, never once suggested we’d try to make this thing between us work despite the distance.

Annabelle must see the hesitation etched on my face because she asks, “You still have doubts?”

I nod slowly, searching for the right words to express the uncertainty that always seems to shroud us.

“It was like he never left, in every single way. We were perfectly in sync and as usual, didn’t talk about us at all.”

“Alexa, he drove down to see you. Doesn’t that say everything you need to know?”

Her words make me hopeful. Her words make me believe maybe his visit was his way of saying he wants to try.

After a few cocktails we head out, making sure to tip Marcus extra well since our drinks were free all night. I don't mean to, really, but as soon as I'm alone my thoughts drift to Adam. I long to hear the familiar cadence of his voice, for the hearty roll of his laughter in my ear. Feeling bold from the alcohol and Annabelle’s pep talk, I dial those familiar numbers.

“Yeah?” he shouts over the noise of a bar. His voice is tight, lacking its usual luster.

I’m suddenly filled with second thoughts about calling him. Everything about his tone feels wrong. I contemplate hanging up, pretending I accidentally dialed him, but I squeak out a hushed hello instead.