22. Adam
CHAPTER 22
ADAM
“But seriously, why would you bring teeth to a cuddle puddle, Princess Drusilla? Put those chompers away, little girl.” I admonish the puppy, who looks thoroughly ashamed of her bad behavior.
Sweetly, she licks my wrist where she just nibbled on me. I give her a pet and whisper endearments as she turns to kiss my cheek and ear. When I try again to arrange the blanket over me. Drusilla spots my toes twitch under the fabric and attacks. This time, thankfully, Rufus comes to my rescue. The big boy rolls his formidable weight onto her, pinning her and giving her a new target for her playful energy.
There’s not a lot of room in my childhood bed, definitely not enough room for a full-grown man and two large dogs, but we’re making it work, and the silliness of the situation is enough to distract me from, well, everything else. But when my phone rings, “everything else” is suddenly top of mind again.
Markus is finally calling me. But why now? It’s after midnight. Is something wrong? I scramble to answer and clear my throat so I can manage to sound casual. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Markus says back. His voice is both a jolt of electricity that zaps through me and a balm that soothes my soul. I sit up on the bed, and that attracts the dogs’ attention. They watch me closely, their intense gazes seeking to detect the nuances of my mood.
After a moment’s hesitation, Markus starts again. “I wasn’t sure if I should call. It’s late, and I know you work tomorrow.”
“Next shift starts tomorrow at noon.” My response sounds curt, like I’m mad at him. I’m not. I got over my anger during my drive home from Mineral Wells. Now, it’s a blend of confusion, exhaustion, and a pinch of loneliness that make up this mood I’m in.
“Oh. Well, I hope I’m not disturbing your sleep, or?—”
“You’re not.” I’m quick to interrupt any notion he might have to hang up. I want to talk to him. But when he doesn’t say anything more, I jump in. “I’m glad you called. How are you? How is your father?”
Markus takes a deep breath and lets it out as a heavy sigh, then says, “I’m okay. And my father is…well, dying.”
“Right, dumb question.” I grimace at my stupidity for bringing up the subject. Markus’s story of his parents’ refusal to let him be himself has colored them in a negative light for me. But they’re still his parents, and I know he’s hurting with all of this. “I’m sorry.”
“No.” He says the word almost like he’s yelling it, but in a hushed tone, like he’s yelling it in a library, or, well, a hospital. “ I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
That shuts me up. Lying back down, I pet the dogs as I stare at the ceiling, the unmoving blades of my fan casting long shadows from the glow of the nightlight my mom keeps in here. I leave a long, silent gap for Markus to speak.
So he does. “I was an asshole to you, and I’m sorry. You went out of your way to help me. I mean seriously, you went two hundred miles out of your way! You did me all these massive favors, and I was a complete dick to you.”
I’ve never been good at receiving compliments or apologies, always turning them into a joke. And, apparently, I haven’t cured myself of that tendency. “ Massive favors ? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
“Uh. I… meant…”
Markus’s tongue-tied stammering is adorable, but I quickly put him out of his misery. “Sorry, dumb joke. I’m glad I could help?—”
“I like you.” Markus’s words come on a gust of breath, like he’s forced them out of his throat.
Uh.
“I like you a lot, and I don’t know what that means to me, or to you, but I wanted to find out, and then I got the call about my father, and, well, I pretty much tackled you when we…you know…and now my emotions are a mess, and I wish I hadn’t been such a jerk to you this morning because even if you don’t want anything more from me, sexually speaking, I would still like to be your friend.”
Jesus, that was a lot of words, a lot of words I didn’t realize I wanted to hear from him. I sit up, and the dogs grumble at the position change. My mouth flounders open and closed as I consider what to say in response. I like him, too, of course I do, but?—
“Wait. Uh… Shit. Something’s wrong. I have to go.”
And with that, he hangs up on me.