Chapter 25
T he only indication I had that Adam came back to the room last night was the pillow.
When I’d woken this morning, the pillow had been placed back on the bed beside me, but he still wasn’t there, just as he hadn’t been when I’d eventually fallen asleep, long after he’d stormed out of the room, holding what I’m pretty sure was a gun.
I’d worried over it and him much longer than I probably should have. After all, he’d probably just gone to do what he and the other Shadow officers had been in the days before—standing watch outside. And it wasn’t like I would’ve known what to say to him anyway.
Not after how horrified he’d looked and sounded at the thought of sleeping in the same bed as me, simply for the sake of his comfort.
It shouldn’t have hurt as bad as it had. It shouldn’t have surprised me, considering he’d confirmed I was an easily forgettable loner. I’d just made the mistake of romanticizing him saying, “I like the real you,” when it’d probably been a condescending comment. I’d made the mistake of getting carried away with my thoughts when he’d leaned against me, and each time his large, tattooed hands had cradled my face.
I wouldn’t make mistakes with Adam Thatcher again.
Once I’d made it through the laborious acts of showering and getting ready for the day, all while feeling like I was seconds from falling over either out of exhaustion or from the vertigo that was so much worse than the day before, I reluctantly pulled his hoodie on since it was freezing, then heavily dropped back to the bed as I struggled to catch my breath.
This was so much more than getting dizzy off Adam Thatcher’s closeness, and part of me was truly worried there was something really wrong. But I was fine—better than. I had to be.
With a fortifying, wheeze of a breath, I shakily stood from the bed and waited until I was sure I had it together. Legs steady. Eyes bright and excited. Lips at the perfect tilt.
You got this, Chloe.
I ignored the way my hand trembled as I reached for the handle, then opened the door and headed out to the sounds of laughter and the smells of breakfast that were as enticing as they were nauseating.
But as soon as I stepped into the living room, where most of Adam’s family was gathered, everyone fell silent. Adam included.
He stilled halfway from pushing himself off the back of the plush chair he’d been leaning on. The hushed, heated conversation with his brother and brother-in-law was all but forgotten as he stared at me in a way that had heat stealing down my spine and swirling through my uneasy stomach.
And just like that, I found myself making mistakes with Adam Thatcher all over again.
“Good morning!” Ellie said as she shifted on the couch to face me. “Sleep well?”
“Ellie,” Dani hissed at her sister’s overly suggestive tone, then smacked her in the face with a pillow. “ Ew .”
“Uh-um,” I said on a hesitant laugh, hating that I could feel just how red my cheeks were, even though there was absolutely no reason to be blushing right then. “Yes, actually,” I lied. “Thank you. How about you?”
“Probably better than any of you since I was the only one getting sleep,” Ellie said smugly, only to flinch when their mom came storming into the room, yelling in Spanish.
But just as quickly as Mrs. Thatcher entered the room, she offered me a kind smile and said, “Good morning, sweet Chloe. How’d you sleep?”
“Great, thank you,” I told her with a smile that felt so, so shaky. “That’s such a comfortable bed.”
Mrs. Thatcher held a finger out toward Ellie in warning, but her smile for me never wavered. “I’m glad. Can I get you coffee? A muffin? Let me grab you something to snack on. Breakfast is almost ready.”
Amusement bled from me as I started toward her. “Coffee would be great, but I can get it,” I said, hoping to avoid being given food again. “And breakfast smells delicious. Is there anything I can do to help?”
A snort sounded from behind me, but I didn’t turn to see who it came from. Though I had a feeling I understood its meaning when Mrs. Thatcher started literally shooing me away from the kitchen.
“No one goes in Mom’s kitchen when she’s cooking,” one of the girls said, but I was now fully focused on the golden eyes locked on me and coming closer.
Adam quickly signed something as he passed his mom. But even if he hadn’t started leading me backward the same way as the weekend before—with one hand pressed to my fluttering, rolling stomach—I would’ve roughly gathered what he’d said from Ellie’s, “But she just got out here!”
I willed the wings taking flight in my stomach to settle and my betraying heart to find a normal rhythm. I forced myself to remember the look on his face and the sound of his voice when I’d tried offering the bed to him. But it was difficult when he was looking at me like that .
“Is this necessary?” I asked as I struggled for the first time to back up in my stilettos.
“You slept well?” he asked as if I hadn’t spoken—as if he hadn’t believed me the two times I’d answered just before.
“Would it matter to you if I hadn’t?”
“Chloe...” he murmured wearily, the sound of my name on his lips sending my pulse into overdrive just as I noticed the shadows beneath his eyes.
“Wait,” I began as I planted my feet at the entrance of the hall, “did you sleep at all?”
“We’re not talking about me,” he said as the hand on my stomach slid to my waist and turned me to keep me walking. “Something’s wrong.” And I knew in the way he expectantly said the words that he wasn’t about to tell me what was wrong. He could see something was wrong with me.
But that had never been an option, so I quickly took inventory of myself, checking to make sure I had everything in place, and gave him my best confused look as he started guiding me again.
“Chloe,” he said again in reprimand as if knowing what I was doing.
Before he could continue, I shifted away from where his hand had fallen to the small of my back and said, “You can’t keep doing that.” At his blatant confusion, I swung an arm toward his still-outstretched hand. “You can’t just touch me like that. Maybe other women are okay with casual touches that don’t mean anything, but I’m not. And I’m not okay with you using me to pretend in front of your family. So, stop.”
“Pretend?” he asked on a rough laugh. “There’s no pretending, Bubbles. They all understand why you’re really here.”
My eyebrows lifted before drawing together as I glanced at the entrance of the hall we were standing in. “But Ellie?—”
“Is Ellie,” he said over me. “Now, what’s going on?”
My attention darted back to him, and I nearly stumbled when the entire world spun.
Nearly , but Adam missed nothing.
One of his hands shot out—gripping my arm to keep me steady as he backed me up so I was pressed against the wall. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“You’re being pushy and infuriating, that’s what.” If I’d had any hope that the words didn’t come out nearly as slurred as I’d thought, the panicked look on Adam’s face as he quickly took me in crushed that.
“I need you to tell me everything you’re feeling,” he demanded softly, the words almost a plea.
But I’d managed to get control of the vertigo, and the nausea was as controlled as I could hope for, so I just lifted a shoulder and lied, “I’m fine.”
“Chloe—”
“I’m fine,” I said on a laugh that, thankfully, didn’t sound nearly as exhausted as I felt. “Can we go now?”
“Don’t,” he softly begged and inched slightly closer. “Don’t put on that mask and start lying to me when I’ve witnessed you without it so many times.”
I groaned and started dropping my face into my hands, but that only caused me to feel like I was toppling forward and nearly made me faceplant into his chest, so I quickly lifted my head and plastered on my best look of exasperated amusement. “This is getting old, Superman. There’s no?—”
“Enough, Chloe,” he ground out, leaning forward and pressing his hands to the wall on either side of me. “Lie to everyone else— for everyone else—I don’t care. But stop lying to me.”
“To you ?” I asked, the words only sounding slightly bitter. “Why should I treat you any differently? Because you wanna know if I’m okay? Because you keep doing this ?” I gestured to the small space between us. “Getting close and touching me like you’re just waiting for me to fall for that lie I already told you I won’t fall for again?”
“Yeah, see, I’m nothing like that psychopath,” he gritted out. “If you fall, you’re falling for something real.”
Shock slammed into me so forcefully that I just stared at Adam for long moments before reality came rushing up to meet me. My head shook wildly as I remembered every word and look from him so far—all things that negated what he’d just implied.
Pushing him away, I turned to leave, a denial already on the tip of my tongue, only for it to bleed into a weak whimper as the world spun faster than before.
A muffled curse sounded at the same moment my knees gave out. But just as I began falling, strong arms grabbed me, curling under me and cradling me close as I was rushed down the hall.
“Talk to me, Bubbles,” Adam said, his voice soft and close, as if he had his lips near my ear. “Tell me everything.”
“I’m fine,” I tried telling him, swatting weakly at him. When he gently laid me on his bed, I forced a laugh as if this was all ridiculous. “Oh my gosh, I’m?—”
“Chloe, stop,” he begged, then gently gripped my face and forced me to look at him. “You dizzy?” When I didn’t answer, his jaw twitched, but he nodded to himself. “How about your breathing? Can you breathe normally?”
Even if I’d been able to breathe normally before, I wouldn’t have been able to then. Not when he was kneeling on the bed, curled over my body, and making me look at him so we were as close as we’d been the night before.
Lips a breath apart.
“Chloe,” he ground out, but the frustration was laced with worry.
And to my horror, I found myself answering, “No.” As soon as I realized the slip, I hurried to put every mask back into place and stammered, “I-I mean, no. I’m fine. I meant I’m okay.”
His brow furrowed as he studied me. “Why do you do that?” he asked, clearly not believing me. Before I could answer, his thumb lazily brushed against my cheek. “What else are you feeling?”
I grit my teeth because I knew he wouldn’t let this go, but I needed him to. “Please...”
“What I gave you when we got here yesterday...did you drink it?” Something on my face must’ve given me away because he asked, “Why didn’t you?”
“Because you made it,” I shot back defensively.
Stunned frustration stole across his handsome face. “And? What, did you think I was drugging you?”
“No, I—” Shame washed through me as I wondered if a part of me had. When Adam sat back, I hurried to explain, “I just know how it feels to look back on those times with Owen—like I wasn’t in control of my thoughts and actions. And I panicked because I’m afraid of feeling that way again.”
Adam stared at me for so long, his expression filled with sorrow and understanding and making my heart wrench. “I was trying to prevent this ,” he muttered as he carefully climbed off the bed, gesturing to me as he did. “Altitude sickness—that’s what’s going on.”
The wrenching of my chest turned painful when he began leaving. “Adam?—”
He held up a hand and slowed to a stop, staring straight ahead before turning back to me. “I get it. I don’t trust you, you don’t trust me. Right?” When I started trying to explain, he nodded toward me. “You need to rest. I’ll be back.”
I didn’t understand the crushed feeling in my chest and twisting in my stomach when he left, neither having anything to do with this sickness he’d spoken of. I didn’t understand how I could feel that awful over potentially hurting a man I’d been convinced hated me not even an hour before. I didn’t understand this worry that I’d caused irreparable damage between Adam and me, when there wasn’t even an Adam and me .
Right?