Calm Like Home (6 page)

As I roll the next set of silverware into the napkin, I bow my elbows way out to the side to get in his way. He playfully pokes my ribcage with one of his silverware rolls and a warm smile spreads over his face. After nestling the silverware roll in the basket, I slide a step closer to him. I carefully place the next knife and fork on my cloth napkin and begin rolling again with elbows wide, intentionally colliding with his stomach.

“This is my technique, Adam. I can’t help it if you’re in the way.”

He bursts out laughing as he watches me and my heart soars. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and get us some more knives? We’re about out.”

I retrieve the supplies, but when I return, I see he’s taken all the silverware I rolled out of my basket and placed it in his. I make an animated show of peering into the two baskets.

“Looks like someone snatched your silverware, Lex. What a shame.” His whole face is lit up, even his eyes are grinning. “I guess you’ll have plenty of time to practice that sweet technique of yours.”

I twist up the top napkin from my stack and playfully snap it at him.

“You don’t fool me, Westbrook. I’m onto your game.”

He feigns innocence and places the last of the silverware rolls in his now full basket. He starts to leave but turns back to me. “Thanks for the pick-me-ups today. You got me through the day.”

I’m inwardly cringing, waiting for that damned
word
again, the one to put me in my place. But he doesn’t say it, doesn’t say what a great friend I am. Instead he asks, “You’re not working tonight, right? Want to hang out?”

Surprise washes over me, a sharp tingle searing from scalp to chest to stomach. I want to act casual, to not let on what this means to me, but my face betrays me, cheeks and lips and eyes all grinning. Even if we are hanging out as friends, it’s a start. It’s something.

“That sounds okay.” I try to say the words casually. I try not to let him know how hard my heart is pounding, how my hands are already clammy, how I’ve wanted nothing else since he walked back into this restaurant weeks ago.

“Just
okay
?” he asks, eyes widening in mock surprise, his face bright with a smile.

One glimpse of that smile and I know that any time spent alone with Adam will be anything other than
just
okay
.

Chapter 7

He knocks at my door around nine o’clock that evening, two short taps, each one feeling electric and charged. A thrill runs through my whole body, knowing he’s right outside my door.

“You ready?” he asks when I pull the door open. He’s slowly twirling his car keys around his index finger, looking completely relaxed in khaki shorts and a pale blue polo, the color perfectly contrasting with his dark eyes.

I nod even though I have no idea what I’m ready for.

“So, Alexa, where are we going?” he asks as we make our way down the stairs to his car.

“I don’t know, Adam. Where are you taking me?”

He climbs in the car and reaches to plug in his iPhone. “You hungry or anything? This is kind of a weird time for dinner.”

His eyes meet mine over the console and I can’t tell what I see there. The way he’s acting so nonchalant about this makes me feel all the more certain this is a purely friendly get-together. Maybe it’s like Annabelle says: he just hates being alone.

“I’m up for whatever,” I say brightly, curious to see what he’ll do next.

“Well we’ll see where the road takes us.” His fingers press the screen of his phone and a playlist comes on the speakers. Eager to distract myself from the
is this a date or isn’t it
debate raging in my head, I pick up his phone and start scrolling through the playlist.

“You’re into Jack Johnson?” I ask, angling my body toward his.

“Yeah, I’m actually going to his concert right before schools starts. I’ve seen him once before. Still the best show I’ve ever seen.” He pauses and his eyes flick to mine, fervently alight. “Well aside from that show you put on today rolling silverware.”

His delivery takes me by surprise and laughter bursts from my mouth. I try to pull myself together, sighing out an “oh my goodness” as I recover.

He chuckles and his eyes flash to mine. “I love how you follow hysterical laughter with an
oh my goodness
like it’s your way of maintaining your lady-like composure. You’re so incredibly proper.”

This makes me laugh even harder. “I honestly had never even noticed it. Thanks a lot!” I say, pushing his shoulder gently.

“Hey, I’ve got precious cargo here, Clausen. Watch the wheel.”

He sneaks a glance at me from the corner of his eyes and gives me a half-smile that’s the perfect blend of ornery and sweet. Any reservations I might’ve had about things being different when it’s just the two of us alone are instantly assuaged. It’s exactly like it always is with Adam: completely easy, completely natural. I honestly think I could be with him anywhere, in any situation, and we’d still manage to have the best time together.

As we drive, Adam and I entertain each other with random conversation. Outside of our friendly banter at the restaurant, I really don’t know much about him and am hungry for any new detail. I listen intently, feeling like I’ll never get enough as he enlivens me with stories about his high school days at Milano’s when he and Damien were lowly busboys. I laugh when he describes a time they absconded with a massive display bottle of red wine, which they proceeded to use to play power hour with in Damien’s bedroom.

“You played power hour with a bottle of wine?” I ask, incredulous. “How many shots did you make it through?”

“Not many…” He grimaces. “Worst. Idea. Ever. I ended up kicking the screen out of his bedroom window and puking red wine all over the side of his house. Luckily it was raining so it didn’t stain or that would’ve been challenging to explain.” He’s laughing animatedly now, that deep throaty sound I’ve come to love so much. It’s music to my ears.

“That sounds remarkably like the time Annabelle and I drank Red Bull and vodka to stay awake after finals. Also the worst idea ever. We tried to make it over to Javier’s apartment for a party but she toppled us both down my stairs. I swear I almost broke my arm again.”

He chuckles at the image then raises his eyebrows quizzically. “Again? What happened the first time?”

“I was this budding gymnast in grade school. I thought I was pretty hot stuff, and my brother of course didn’t, so I climbed up on our basement coffee table to show him what’s up. I went to flip off the end, only my hand slipped off the edge of the table when I kicked my legs up over my head and I came crashing down on my arm.”

I hold it up at a cockeyed angle to demonstrate the break near my wrist. “Freaking older brothers.”

“Believe it or not, us older brothers feel bad about that stuff. Damien and I used to give my little brother a hard time about not being able to catch when he started playing baseball. One day we found him on the couch in our basement, which was right beside the stairs, and Damien got this brilliant idea to toss our little Bichon over the side, yelling ‘
Catch this
.’ The dog was absolutely terrified and when she fell she dug her claws into his chest so hard my mom had to take him to get stiches. I still feel horrible about that one.”

He grows quiet and a subtle look of alarm creeps over his face. It seems odd given the story he told me. I quickly look out the windshield to see if he might’ve seen something on the road, but it’s empty.

“I didn’t know you have a brother,” I say in disbelief, turning back to him. I find it hard to imagine two Westbrook boys wandering this world, disarming unsuspecting women with their charm.

He nods once and I can just make out the word “Isaac.” His voice is barely audible, his face completely slack. Then an instant later the look is gone and he’s changing the subject. “So tell me more about gymnastics. You must be pretty flexible, huh?” He glances over at me, his eyes brimming with mischief and intrigue. The look is so alluring I have no choice but to indulge him.

Suddenly flashing lights flood the night air, bright red and blue illumination swirling behind us. As I turn to gaze out the back window I realize we’ve made it all the way to some small town far from the city lights. I’ve been so wrapped up in the sound of Adam’s voice, I never even noticed us leaving.

“Well shit,” Adam mumbles as he eases the car over to the side of the road. “Can you hand me my insurance card?” He gestures toward the glove box.

I pull out the card as a policeman saunters up to his window.

“I need to see your license,” he says in a booming voice, shining the beam of a flashlight into the car. He’s an older man, graying, with a rotund belly protruding over his belt buckle.

Adam hands over the insurance card and shifts to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket. His shirt tugs up slightly, revealing tanned skin and the waistband of his boxers. I quickly look out the window because ogling him in front of a cop seems mildly inappropriate.

The policeman peers into the car, looking from Adam to me. “Where are you two headed?”

“We’re just driving.”

The policeman nods once. “Is that your girlfriend?”

My stomach lurches at the question but Adam doesn’t miss a beat responding.

“No, she’s my wife,” he deadpans.

“What do you have there?” the policeman asks, flashing the beam of light on Adam’s iPhone, which is cradled on the dash. “Is that a radar detector?”

Adam tries to keep a straight face as he slowly says, “That would be my phone.”

“I guess it wouldn’t be a radar detector because I caught you speeding. Also, you didn’t come to a complete stop at that stop sign a while back. Around here we come to complete stops.” The officer hands back his license and writes up a ticket.

Adam rolls up his window as the officer returns to his car. His eyes slowly shift to my face and he waves the ticket in my direction. “See what you did, Clausen? I blame you for this! You‘re so distracting.”

I hope with everything in me he means that in a good way.

“Geez, Adam,” I joke, “Didn’t you know that
around here
they come to complete stops? I can’t believe you messed that up!”

He reaches to poke me with the ticket then tucks it behind his sun visor before pulling back onto the road. “You know I’ve never actually gotten a ticket before?”

“In this thing?” I ask skeptically.

“I didn’t say I don’t drive fast. I said I’ve never been caught.” His eyes are sparkling when they flick to mine.

“Sounds like you should really pay better attention to the road.”

“Should I just let you out here then?” He pretends to pull the car back over and I’m relieved this run-in with the law didn’t put a damper on our night together.

We finally pull into my apartment complex well after midnight and he parks his car near the steps to my door. Now that we’re back, the anticipation is coursing through me. My head is trying to once again balance out whether this was more of a first date or two friends hanging out.

He switches off the car and turns to look at me. The corners of his mouth are turned up into the faintest hint of a smile. Our elbows are barely touching on the center console, the heat from his body radiating through mine. I don't dare move for fear his arm will pull away. My breathing quickens and I tell myself,
get a grip Alexa, it’s a freaking elbow.

He shifts slightly in his seat, the leather creaking as his body turns towards mine. As he rotates, his arm pulls away, leaving my skin aching in its wake and me wanting nothing more than for him to put it back. I stare up into those deep brown eyes for what feels like forever, trying to read his expression, wondering what this is to him.

“So, Alexa,” he says slowly, leaning in a little closer. I swallow hard. His face is inches from mine now.

“Adam...”

He lets out a slight chuckle, never taking his eyes off mine. “Thanks for taking a drive with me.” His face breaks into a wide smile as he says it, as if we’d simply driven around the block rather than spending the last several hours completely engrossed in one another’s company.

I meet his gaze, waiting to see what he’ll do next, knowing I don’t have it in me to make the first move. I can feel my pulse throbbing in my fingertips, feel it booming in my eardrums. Adam is sitting perfectly still, just watching me, a hint of a smile still echoing on his lips. Weighted seconds tick by in his silent car. I’m worried he’ll think it’s weird if I don’t get out soon, so I grin and say brightly, “Look out for stop signs on your way home,” before climbing out the door.

Chapter 8

I have the next day off from work. I stay in bed until mid-afternoon thinking about Adam, trying desperately to fall back to sleep on the off chance I might dream of him. I replay every moment from our drive, relishing his sideways glances, his easy laugh, the little tidbits of his life he shared with me. I scan back through our conversations, trying to file our interactions into the friend versus date category, but it’s no use. I still have no idea what we’re doing. I finally drag myself from the bed out of sheer necessity for food, then meet Javier at the pool to lounge the rest of the afternoon away.

I get back to my apartment late that evening, feeling antsy. I’m about to text Annabelle for a couch session when my phone rings. I don’t recognize the number and my stomach instantly folds in on itself somehow knowing who it is. Could this mean he’s ready for another round of
is this a date or are we just friends?

Adam’s voice is deeper on the phone, and when he asks if I want to go for a drive, I can’t tell him yes fast enough. Exactly twenty minutes later there are two swift taps at my door. When I pull it open he’s leaning up against the doorframe, looking every bit his usual carefree self, like he knows exactly what this
thing
between us is and I’m the only one in the dark.

His face breaks into a wide grin and he asks, “Think we can get by without a speeding ticket tonight?”

Just like last night the conversation comes easy. As he meanders along the streets I find myself trying to explain to him my love for grizzly bears, which he thinks is preposterous.