Disclosure of the Heart (The Heart Series) (18 page)

For the next few days, Adam and I exchanged a few texts and talked a few times, but that was it. My dad came in to town for work in the middle of the week, and I arranged my schedule so we could spend time together. On Friday morning, we’d planned for him to attend a press briefing. He was also going to get to say hello to Logan, which he was really excited about.

After the briefing, I spoke with my dad off to the side, and a few reporters came up to me and asked if he was my father. I was really hoping Adam had left the room, but he hadn’t. When the crowd cleared, he started toward me. I hadn’t told my dad about him yet. When I’d finally mentioned it to my mom, it had turned into a complete replay of my very first conversation with Lisa when she’d grilled me. Not fun. So I’d avoided talking at any length with my mom since then, and this was definitely not the time to spring Adam on my dad. I gave Adam a slight shake of my head and hurried my dad off to see the president.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the end. Dad’s meeting with Logan was all of five minutes—they might’ve been old friends, but Logan was the leader of the free world and it was a workday. So afterward, I took him on a tour around the White House grounds.

As we strolled along, Adam appeared out of nowhere. “Good morning, Nicki.”

“Oh…uh. Morning, Adam.” I sucked in some air and gave him a determined smile. “Adam, this is my father, Kevin Johnson. Dad, this is Adam Kincaid…with the BBC.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Adam said as he extended his hand.

Dad’s brow furrowed for a moment, but soon his prosecutor poker face took over and he began his interrogation. “Good morning, Adam. Your name. It sounds familiar. Why is that?”

Because my dad had already moved to Chicago by my junior year, he’d never met Adam, but he certainly knew about him. If this were my mother meeting Adam again, she’d be gushing over him. But since Dad only knew the bad parts about our relationship, this was tougher.

I went for a vague explanation. “Dad, Adam lived in Bellaire for a while when I was in high school.”

Dad broke eye contact with him and glanced at me. He was obviously putting two and two together, but Adam was the one to break the silence and acknowledge everything. “Meeting Nicki was the best part of my year in the States.”

I faked a glance at my watch. “Yeah, that was a fun year. Dad, we need to get going if you’re going to get to your lunch in Alexandria.”

He nodded quietly. “Nice to meet you, Adam.” Then his eyes darted over to me, and he added, “After all these years.”

“Yes, you too, sir. Enjoy your holiday.” He turned to me. “Bye, Nicki.”

“So long.” I avoided his eyes and gladly steered my dad toward the gate.

On Sunday, Lisa and I showed up at the soccer field toward the end of the game. The guys were on the field, and memories of watching Adam play soccer in high school flooded back to me. I’d loved watching him play, but seeing him in his uniform was even better. Both teams were like a study in international diplomacy, and English was just one of the languages spoken on the field. The others included Spanish, German, French, Arabic, and a few I didn’t know at all.

Lisa and I weren’t obvious in the crowded sidelines, and I wondered if Adam knew I was there to see him dribble the ball down the field, pass it to David, and watch David make a goal. Just as the ball went into the goal, David dropped down to his knee and ripped off his shirt before running around like a madman hugging everyone in sight.

“That’s the only time he’s going to score with me around.”

“You can stop now. Admit it. He’s adorable.”

“He has his moments,” she said, letting a smile escape.

“Have you seen him with his shirt off before?”

“No.”

“So what do you think?”

“I think he’s damn fine.” She gave me a warning glare. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

“No way. I’m not messing up this game of cat and mouse.”

After the game ended, Adam and David headed for the sidelines, with Adam stripping off his jersey as he walked. Adam half-naked was a sight to see and not one I was ready for.

I turned away, and Lisa laughed at me. “I guess you haven’t seen Adam with his shirt off either.”

“Not recently.”

“And what do you think?”

I smiled and bit my knuckle. “Let’s just say he’s filled out.”

David’s voice carried across the field. “Did you see my goal, princess?”

“I did,” Lisa said matter-of-factly. When they walked up, she smirked and teasingly ran a finger down David’s chest and showed the sweat on her finger to him. “You need a shower.”

He grabbed her like he was going to dance with her. “Only if you’ll join me.”

“Gross! Don’t touch me.” She pushed him back. “You stink.”

“You’re a doctor. You’re not supposed to mind the human body.”

“I don’t, but I prefer them clean.”

As David and Lisa bantered away, Adam said to me, “Thanks for coming out here.”

“Thanks for the invitation.” I smiled but didn’t look at him. How could I? At the moment, he was the stuff of my fantasies.

We chatted for a bit, and all the while, I kept my eyes everywhere but on him.

Eventually, he said, “I hate to be presumptuous like my incorrigible cousin, but I do get the feeling you’re averting your eyes.”

“No. Why would you say that?” I covered my mouth to hide my smile.

“So it’s not because I’m standing here half-naked?”

“Can you not say that word?” I asked, laughing.

“Oh, forgive me. I know how difficult this must be for you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Will you please just put on a shirt?”

“Sure. Give me a second.” He grabbed a towel from his bag and began to dry himself off.
Oh my God.
I stared at the very top of his head, and he noticed. He nodded across the field and said, “You can look over there if this gets to be too much.”

“Whatever.”

I peeked to see what he was wearing and saw a Liverpool sweatshirt. Perfect. In shorts, sneakers, and a University of Chicago sweatshirt, I’d dressed no worse than him.

After he was fully clothed again, he grinned and tousled my ponytail. “When your hair is tied up like this, you look seventeen again.”

“I don’t think so,” I said, though I was pleased. I got sick of dressing up for work during the week, so I put my hair up a lot on the weekends.

“You’re prettier now, though.”

The man always had the ability to be so charming he left me speechless. I tentatively touched my ponytail and felt the need to return the compliment, though after that cocky display of his, I didn’t want to go too far. “Well, you don’t look seventeen anymore either.”

“Are you saying I look old?”

“No.” I laughed. “You’ve just…changed since then.”

“Ah! Not how you remember me? Not a skinny lad anymore?” He leaned against a post lining the field. “And you like that, do you now?”

I pretended to look at the sky. “Doo-dee-doo. I’m not answering that.”

“I’m sorry. It was cruel of me to bring it up given your inability to keep your hands to yourself.”

“That joke only has so much life in it.”

“Not if you pounce on me again.”

“Believe me, I can control myself.”

“It’s good that one of us can,” he said with a wink.

We drove our separate cars up to a dive Mexican joint on the outskirts of Adams Morgan. Both teams came along, and it was a giant, loud table that only grew bigger as many of the players’ girlfriends and friends arrived. No one could tell where Adam and I fit in the picture, and it helped that many of them didn’t speak English.

As drinks arrived, David began to teach the Swedes and Germans how to do tequila shots. I already had a margarita and needed to keep some of my wits about me, but Lisa was at David’s side, debating whether or not to do one. He raised another glass and said sexily, “Have you ever done a body shot, love?”

She sneered. “You know, I’m not one of your little playthings.”

“Don’t be offended, love. It was a joke.” He chuckled. “The first time I lick you certainly won’t be in public.”

“Like there’s going to be a first time.” She crossed her arms emphatically.

As though realizing he’d screwed up, David moved his seat a little closer to her and leaned in to whisper in her ear. What he said, I didn’t know, but by her annoyed expression, she wasn’t impressed.

“David needs to go back to spending time with Lisa alone,” I said to Adam. “He might’ve done some permanent damage trying to show her off.”

“I’m sure she’ll forgive him.” The twinkle appeared again in his eyes. “Maybe we could do a body shot?”

“Ha!”

“Well, say we were at a beach in Mexico and you were in a bikini…”

I couldn’t even imagine it. Taking a sip of margarita, I muttered, “I don’t wear bikinis, for starters.”

“Why ever not?” He gave my frame an approving once-over. “You’ve got a great body.”

What should’ve been a compliment was a crushing blow to me. He’d forgotten. I couldn’t believe it. After the car accident in high school, my body had always been a huge issue for me. It was entirely covered in horrible scars, especially my torso. The few on my arms had become less obvious over time, though, and I was usually in long sleeves anyway. The gashes across my middle had likewise lost their deep purple hue, but they were still noteworthy both in number and color. Today, everything was fine as long as I kept my clothes on. I folded my arms over my stomach and mumbled, “My scars.”

His smile fell. “Nicki, I’m so sorry. I’m such a bloody idiot. I swear I haven’t forgotten. It just came out because you’re so pretty and—”

“Don’t worry about it. I wouldn’t expect you to remember.” It was the nice thing to say even if it wasn’t true. “It’s not a big deal.”

“How could I forget? I didn’t, I promise. I—”

“Please, let’s just drop it. It really doesn’t matter.”

I took another sip of my drink and looked around the table, hoping there was a different conversation to join in. But then I felt his arm around my shoulder, pulling me to his side. He kissed the top of my head and murmured in my hair. “I told you many times I didn’t care about a few silly scars. I still don’t.”

I winced, thinking of all those times he’d been so kind to me about my body when I’d been so horrified by it. I leaned into him for just a moment, enjoying his support once again. I remembered we were in public, though, and quickly straightened in my seat. I gave him a quick smile. “Thanks.”

“I mean it.”

I believed him, encouraging me once again to say something more. “It’s not the scars themselves that are the problem. I mean, I’ve still got some visible ones.” I pulled up my sleeve and pointed to the silvery lines on my arm. “They’ve faded, but they’re still noticeable if you look hard, but I don’t care anymore what I look like anyway. It’s having to explain what happened that’s the pain in the ass. People don’t ask much about my arms. It’s only when they see my stomach, where it’s obvious something bad happened. They ask a lot of questions about those.”

“And who
would
want to answer those questions?”

“Not me. That’s the funny thing about leaving Bellaire and growing up. Outside of home, no one knows my history. There’s no terrible tragedy. But when they see my scars, I have to explain it all. Unfortunately, they’re still bad enough that people ask if everyone in the accident came out okay.”

“That’s hard,” he said with a grimace.

“Yeah, a little. The thing that really bugs me, though, is when people hear about the accident and one of the first things they say is, ‘I thought you were an only child.’ It sounds so weird to me. I’ve spent half my life now without my sister, but I still can’t think of myself as an only child.” I sighed with a smile. “Anyway, that’s why I don’t wear a bikini. It’s not really that I care how I look.”

“Well, you look great,” he said, squeezing my hand. “And you’re not an only child. You’re forever a bossy older sister. Except now you just boss around the entire White House Press Corps, including one BBC reporter.”

“Yeah, right.” I laughed.