Chapter 15
Shock, panic, jealousy and despair are apparently great motivators. At least, they are for me.
In the two hours since I’d seen Jasmine and Elijah eating dinner together, I’d managed to go back to the rare books room and repair several more of the damaged books in my pile. If I kept up at that rate, I’d be back in London in a matter of a couple of weeks.
Numb, I walked the few blocks home, distracted by my phone buzzing in my purse.
Heart skipping, for the briefest moment, I thought maybe Adam was calling me. But it was Daphne’s name blinking on the screen.
“Hey,” I said, tucking the phone against my shoulder and tugging my keys free from my bag as well.
“Hey,” she said. “I just wanted to check in and make sure I didn’t screw things up for you this morning. Adam heard what you said, didn’t he?”
Was that really only a few hours ago? It felt like a week ago. “Yeah. Yeah he did.”
“Shit. Was he mad?”
“Well… he wasn’t exactly happy that I said he wasn’t enough to make me uproot my life and move here.”
“I’m sorry,” Daphne sighed. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to talk this morning.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I told her. “I’m the idiot who blabbed to you with him in the other room.”
“Yeah, that was pretty stupid.”
I shook my head, a smile teasing my lips. “Says the girl who thought the self-clean button on her oven turned it into a dishwasher.”
“That is not my fault!” Daphne squealed. “They really should put a warning on it.”
I snorted a laugh as I pushed my key into the door of my apartment’s lobby. The front door clicked open and with a grunt, I shoved my way inside out of the cold. Out of habit, I paused at the mailboxes just to check, even though no one knew I was here or had this mailing address.
Sure enough, it was empty except for a coupon for 20% off Bed, Bath, Beyond. Score.
I dropped the flier into the trashcan in the corner. “I’m sure the oven manufacturers didn’t think someone with an Oxford education would fill her oven with forks, knives, casserole plates and dishes, then turn on the self-clean function.”
“Well, they know better now. I sent them a very strongly worded letter about it.”
“I bet you did.” Only Daphne would make a mistake that dumb, then not only blame all oven manufacturers for it, but take it that extra step further and send them a chastising letter.
Smiling, I pressed the button for the elevator and waited as the seventies fossil groaned to life.
“Anyway,” Daphne said. “I just wanted to check on you. How’s he taking it?”
The elevator dinged and once the doors slid open, I stepped inside, punching the button for my floor with a sigh. “Not as badly as he could have,” I said, honestly. “It could have been worse.”
“Which also means it could have been better.”
I shrugged even though she couldn’t see me. “Adam’s a pretty even-keeled guy. I’m sure he just needed a little time to let everything marinate.”
I hoped.
“Nope! Absolutely not. Get your cute little ass into something lacy and sexy and march over to his apartment tonight! Remind him what he’d be missing out on if he marinates too long.”
“Daphne!” I gasped in mock shock as the elevator stopped on my floor, the doors opening at the slowest pace known to man.
“I’m serious!”
I nibbled the corner of my lip and shook my head. “Trust me, I know you’re serious. Thank you for being you. I gotta go… talk to you later.”
“Fine. But remember, something lacy and skimpy?—”
“Bye!” I said laughing.
I hung up as the scent of something delicious filled the hallway making my stomach groan in protest.
Dammit. Yet again, I’d forgotten to go grocery shopping. I had grabbed a few staples last week but I used the last of my bread this morning on toast. All I had left were those stupid ramen packets and a half eaten jar of peanut butter.
Stopping in front of my apartment door, I thunked my head against the hard wood and groaned.
I sure as hell wasn’t going back out tonight to go grocery shopping. So I guess takeout was in order instead. The question was: Pizza or Chicken Pad Thai?
Fumbling with my massive set of janitor keys, I paused.
Wait a minute...
I inhaled deeply.
The smell of cooking… it was coming from insidemy apartment.
What the hell?
Quickly, I shoved my key into the lock and opened the door to find Adam standing in my kitchen cooking with Verne sitting patiently at his heels and Jules sitting on the counter, tail swishing and watching intently as he stirred something that smelled delicious on the stovetop.
“What… what are you doing here?”
He blinked at me from overtop a billowing plume of steam, seeming surprised that I was surprised. “Well, I assumed you ate the last of your bread. And knowing you, you probably forgot to grab something for dinner from the market… so I picked up a few things on my way home from class to cook you dinner.”
“Why didn’t you text me?”
After a pause, he responded, “I… guess I didn’t know I needed to.”
“How did you even get in here!?”
“I have your spare key.”
I blinked at him. “What an insane violation of my privacy.”
His brows rose. “I was going more for ‘sweet grand gesture.”
I set my bag down on the coffee table and paused to pet Jules and Verne before crossing to Adam, leaning over his shoulder to see what he was cooking.
“Does this mean you’re done marinating?”
His brow scrunched. “Marinating? Like steak?” Confused, he blinked down at the pot of noodles, which I had to admit smelled divine. “This is ramen. Nothing needed to marinate?—”
“No, you. Are you done marinating? You know. Done like, thinking about this morning and giving me the silent treatment.”
He set the spatula down on a porcelain spoon rest thing that I didn’t even realize this apartment had, then turned to look me in the eyes. “I wasn’t giving you the silent treatment.”
“You didn’t come by the rare books room. Or text me all day.”
He tilted his head. “I popped by the rare books room on my way out, but you weren’t there.”
“What time was that?”
“I don’t know. Around 5?”
We must have just missed each other. It was a big school. Totally conceivable that he’d taken a different route from his classroom to the library just as I’d left to find him.
“And you didn’t text,” I repeated.
He shrugged. “I figured you’d be home soon. Or that you’d stepped out to grab a coffee while ink dried or whatever. I didn’t think I needed to text you.”
I searched his face for any hint of deception. “I actually went looking for you at five,” I said honestly. “I looked in your classroom, knocked on your office door. I even poked my head into the faculty dining hall which I didn’t even know existed.”
I waited, my held breath burning my lungs, waiting to see if he reacted at all to the dining hall comment. Did he know Jasmine and his father saw each other? Had he been there grabbing coffee with them just before I poked my head in?
But just like before, his expression remained passive. Like he had nothing to hide.
If I was braver, I would have just asked him about it. Come right out and asked why his dad was sitting across a small table having coffee with Jasmine.
But I wasn’t brave.
Especially when it came to his father.
I was a coward.
I took a deep breath to momentarily gather my thoughts, but I was distracted by the immediate delicious smell of spices, onion, and…
“Is that peanut butter I smell?” I asked.
At the sight of his smile, my chest warmed. “It is. I thought I would show you how to spice up your ramen.”
“And how’s that?”
“Well,” with a little tug of my hand, he pulled me into him, wrapping his arms around me as he stirred the pot with his free hand. “You add things to the little spice packet it comes with. So, in a separate saucepan, you whisk together the flavor packet with some sesame oil, honey, soy sauce, rice vinegar, garlic, ginger, and… you guessed it, peanut butter. Then stir in your noodles. If you’re feeling real fancy, garnish it with some chopped scallions and sesame seeds.”
On the counter beside us, I saw two small piles of scallions and sesame seeds. “Guess you were feeling fancy, huh?”
“For you?” he teased, poking my nose with the tip of his finger. “Nothing but the best.” He pointed to another pot on the back burner. “I’m even adding a couple soft boiled eggs, too.”
“And I had all these ingredients lying around?”
Adam snorted, releasing me with a quick kiss to my cheek. “Hardly. Verne and I brought most of it over.”
Even in the face of him being so sweet, I couldn”t get the image of Jasmine and Mr. Stone out of my mind.
What were they doing together? Did Adam know? Had he been having coffee with them moments before I got there?
My thoughts were interrupted by Adam”s hands gently pressing on to my shoulders. I looked up into his eyes, eyes that I used to know so well, and yet now he was a stranger. A familiar stranger, yes but a stranger nonetheless.
“What”s going on in that mind of yours?” he asked.
I gave a responding nervous chuckle. There were a million things I could say in response to that. A million vulnerable confessions that I could unleash, starting with: choose me.
“I’m sorry about what I said this morning,” I blurted out quickly.
He didn’t react. Didn’t even blink.
“Adam? Did you hear me?”
A single nod. “Yeah.”
“I’m sorry you heard that.”
“Sorry I heard it? Or sorry you said it?”
Shit. I swallowed and took a moment to collect my thoughts. This was what adults did. They talked through their feelings. They didn’t just run away and move to another country.
“I’m sorry you heard it,” I clarified. Those words were possibly some of the hardest and most honest I’d ever said.
He pressed his lips together and nodded. “I see.”
“We’ve only been back together dating, or whatever this is, for a week. I’m not saying I won’t stay here to be with you. I’m not saying that you won’t be enough for me to uproot my life. I’m only saying that right now, right this second, it feels really early to make that big of a life altering decision. But we’ve got several more weeks together. And I’d like to play it by ear.”
“I can understand that,” he said quietly.
“You can?”
“Yeah. But promise me you won’t just leave again. If you’re going back to London, at least give me the goodbye that we both deserve.”
“That sounds like a deal. But I don’t want to think of goodbye right now.”
“No?” Adam stepped into me, lowering his mouth to my neck and sweeping his tongue along my collarbone. “What do you want to think of?”
“Maple Grove,” I murmured.
His lips froze at my shoulder. Then slowly, he pulled back and leveled me with a quizzical look. “What?”
“I owe my family a visit. But I don’t want to lose any time with you. Will you come home with me?”
“Can Verne and I crash in the basement guest room?”
The question took me back for a moment. “You don’t want to see your parents?—”
“My mom is traveling with my stepdad.” He shrugged, but didn’t offer anything more about his dad.
“You can crash at our house. You know my dad and Addy won’t care.”
“Good.” He bent and brushed his mouth gently across mine. “Because I don’t want to lose any time I’ve got with you, either.”