Chapter 26 #2
“Oh, hey!” I stop walking, not really sure what to say. “How are you?”
“I’ve been good! I’m sorry it took me so long to reach out—Ihad some things come up—but I’ll be back in the city this weekend. I was wondering if you wanted to grab some food?”
Liam’s asking me to hang out is perfectly normal behavior considering I gave him my number.
I’m conflicted, because while there’s a tiny part of me that’s intrigued by the idea of going out with someone who’s interested in me, there’s only one thing I can think of, and it’s dark-haired, is six-foot-three, and can whip up a lasagna that makes me go weak in the knees.
“Um, you know…I would really love to, but the show is just crazy this week. I don’t know if I’ll have the time,” I say.
“Oh, yeah, of course, that makes sense,” he says. “I mean, I deserve that for taking this long to reach out. I’m sorry again, June.”
“Oh no, please don’t apologize, it’s not your fault,” I say, because he really didn’t do anything wrong. My reason for saying no has nothing to do with him.
“Well, I’m there from Thursday to Sunday night, so if anything changes just let me know. I really enjoyed chatting with you.”
“I did too.” My voice goes higher than it needs to. “I’ll for sure let you know if anything changes!”
“All right, have a good one, June.”
“You too.” I hang up with an unsettling feeling brewing withinme.
The rest of the day I have trouble focusing on anything.
There’s a feeling of guilt I can’t shake.
I don’t know if I feel guilty that I turned down a date or guilty that I even had a date to turn down to begin with.
The only thing I know is that there is absolutely zero reason why I should feel bad about Liam asking me out… right?
For the remainder of the evening, I end up waiting in the living room until Adam comes home.
I feel like a parent waiting for their kid to come back from a party.
Attempting to read a book is no use since I manage to get through only two pages in the span of three hours.
When I hear the sound of the door unlocking, I shoot up from the couch, my hands immediately clammy.
“Hey, how was your day?” Adam throws his keys onto the side table.
“What do you mean?” I ask, and it comes out all breathy and defensive.
“What?” He frowns.
I shake my head, trying to calm myself. “Um, it was fine. Yours?”
“Work was madness.” He walks over to the kitchen and pours himself a glass of water. “But we won.”
“Oh, nice,” I say, forgetting Mondays are his basketball nights.
“Maybe we can watch a movie tonight? Take it easy?” he says after chugging his water and using the back of his palm to wipe his mouth.
“Sure,” I say, seated and staring ahead.
“Everything okay?” Adam makes his way toward the couch, taking a seat beside me.
He smells clean, and the back of his hair is a little damp from the postgame shower.
He moves his hand to hold mine and I take a sharp breath in.
I don’t remember the last time we touched, but it calms me.
As I move my fingers to interlock with his, he pulls my hand up to his mouth and gives it a kiss.
My breathing slows down, and I look at him. “I missed you today,” I say like it’s a confession.
“I missed you too,” he reciprocates, but his brow furrows. “What’s going on?”
He’s rubbing my knuckles with his thumb, and I inch a little closer so that our knees are touching.
My gaze stays fixed on our hands, afraid to look up at him, scared to see what his eyes are revealing.
His breaths deepen and I rest my forehead on his.
His smell is intoxicating, something I could get drunk off of.
There’s an impulse in me I want to give in to.
My hand moves to gently squeeze his forearm over his sweater, while he moves his to my thigh, and my breath hitches.
This is new for us. We don’t do this, yet nothing about it feels like we should stop.
My heart begins to beat faster, louder; I can practically feel my pulse throughout my entire body.
I’m almost embarrassed by the effect a sheer hand placement has onme.
Adam’s touch slides up a little farther and then stops.
I nod, giving him permission to explore my body.
When his fingers trace the curve of my hip, I squeeze his biceps, letting out a slight whimper.
Pushing him back onto the couch, I lift my leg up to straddle him and then suddenly both of Adam’s hands are on my ass.
This is new territory, on so many levels, and based on his firm grip he’s enjoying this as much as Iam.
As I remove my cardigan, exposing my tank top, he takes a deep breath in and hardens beneath me. I run my fingers through his hair and throw my head back in pleasure as he kisses my neck, careful not to touch my lips.
“June,” he breathes against my skin.
“Kiss me,” I order as I roll my hips into his.
He groans and his lips crash into mine and it’s everything I could ever have wanted, years of built-up tension finally leading to this moment.
My tongue swirls in his mouth and neither of us stops for air.
It’s like we’ve been deprived of physical touch for years.
Adam’s fingers continue to dig into my hips, and I push my breasts into his chest. His hands move up my torso and cup one of my boobs and I let out an embarrassingly loud moan when he squeezes.
He sucks on my earlobe and swipes his tongue over my ear, a move that I didn’t know until this moment could undome.
I reach for the button on his pants and undo it and he unhooks my bra from underneath my tank top and tosses it onto the floor, a skill that I assume must have taken practice, but it turns me on regardless.
“Is this what you want?” Adam breaks apart for a moment and I nod, kissing him deeper. I move my hand to squeeze him over his briefs. He shuts his eyes and rolls his head back. “Fuck.”
“Yes, please.” I kiss his neck.
“June.” He pulls away, the look on his face bringing me back down to earth. “ Do you want this ?” he repeats, eyes darting back and forth to mine. “Because if we’re doing this, there’s no going back.”
Hearing the question feels like someone cut my air supply from an oxygen tank. What is he really asking me? If I want to continue what we’re doing right here, right now, or if I want the shift in our friendship that may result once we’re done?
I’ve had so long to think about this. It’s a question that’s been looming over me for years before I even realized it.
But right now, with Adam’s hands on my body and knowing he might be there to catch me no matter what my answer is…
I’m scared. I think of my conversation with Ford, and I worry that everything I know is slipping through my fingers before it’s happened.
What if years of history go down the drain for one night of giving in to my urges? What if I lose Adam?
“I…” I start, feeling overwhelmed. “I—I don’t know.”
His demeanor changes, as if he’s been punched in the gut.
“You don’t know?” he asks, his body going limp.
My lips are swollen, our clothes are a mess, he’s still hard, and I don’t know what’s happening.
“Is this something you’re doing to just get it out of your system?
Because I know what I want, June, and it’s not to just have sex. ”
“No, of course not,” I say defensively.
“Then what are we doing? Because the minute this happens, we’re not going back to just being roommates. You don’t come back from something like that.”
“You don’t think I know that?” I say, offended. “Adam, why do we have to talk about this right now? Why can’t we just—”
“We can’t not talk about this,” he says.
“Adam, I don’t want to ruin our friendship.” I motion to what little space is betweenus.
“That’s bullshit,” he says under his breath.
“Excuse me?”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it is.” He adjusts our bodies so we’re now sitting beside each other.
“We fall asleep on the couch watching movies, we go grocery shopping together, you spend Christmas with my family…” He runs a hand through his hair, defeated.
“You don’t think it fucks with me when people ask are you and June together?
Why aren’t you and June together? And I have to say you know …
I don’t know. ” His hand falls heavily onto his thigh.
His candidness is catching me off guard. In all the years we’ve known each other, he’s never brought this up, and now he’s throwing it back at me as if we’ve been going around in circles.
“Where is this coming from?”
“I’ve felt like this for a long time,” he says. “I guess I just never said anything, because it was so clear where we were heading…But now, I don’t know. I don’t know what we’re doing or what we are.”
“We’re best friends, Adam,” I say, but after hearing it, I’m not really sure it means anything anymore.
He shakes his head like he’s tired of hearingit.
“Don’t tell me we’re friends, ” he throws the word back at me, and I can admit it doesn’t feel great.
“We crossed that line years ago. Five minutes ago, we were holding hands, making out, saying how much we missed each other.” He wipes a palm over his face and takes a breath.
“June, I don’t have the desire to even look at another woman. ”
His words feel like arrows as I think about earlier today.
Ever since I met Adam, I haven’t wanted anyone else.
It’s a feeling I never really understood.
I’ve never felt as safe or protected as I do when I’m with Adam.
He’s all I could ever ask for, and he’s far more than I deserve.
The life we built together, that bond of trust that takes years to form, and a place in his family that means more to me than anything.
I feel sick not only that I gave my number to someone else, but that I wanted to.
I don’t know why I did it. In a hundred lifetimes I would choose Adam over anyone else, but there’s a tiny itch in my brain, an itch of curiosity that I wanted to scratch.
An anchor of guilt pulls at me, getting heavier, and heavier, until I can’t breathe, and the pressure suddenly feels like too much.
I have to tell Adam. He deserves to know.
“I met someone,” I whisper.
He shifts.
“You met someone ?”
“Not recently—”
“The guy at the bar?” he asks. I didn’t realize he had noticed, but I brush pastit.
“His name is Liam and he’s an actor too,” I say, stating the only things I know about him. “But he called me today asking if we could go out this week—”
“That night was two months ago,” he says like he’s retracing his steps.
“I said no,” I clarify, so he knows. “Even though he’s a nice guy and we got along, I still said no,” I press, hoping that he understands where I’m coming from. “Because of you,” I say, my voice trembling.
I lift the side of my hand to wipe the tears pooling in the corner of my eye. There’s tension in his jaw and a look on his face I can’t read. I know every look of Adam’s—the tired ones, the happy ones, the sad ones—but I can’t read him right now.
“Hey, hey.” Adam lifts a palm to my face and uses his thumb to wipe another tear. “Why are you crying?” he asks softly.
“I just feel guilty…I don’t know why.” I sniff.
“June, I don’t want you to ever feel bad about anything because of me.” I nod, but another tear falls, then another. Adam looks down and I can see his chest rise with a deep breath. “Did you want to say yes?”
The question throws me off. I don’t want to tell him an answer I don’t even know myself. I swallow, choosing my words carefully, but my silence is a loud enough response. His face drops, and I swear I can feel a chill come in betweenus.
Adam cracks a faint smile that’s anything but happy. “I wouldn’t want to get in the way of you sharing something special with someone.”
“Adam,” I say helplessly. “I thought about it, okay? Is that so wrong?” I tell him the truth, because I don’t know how to be anything but honest with him.
“If there’s a part of you that’s curious, June, you owe it to yourself to see.”
“That’s not fair,” I sniff, swiveling my body to face him. “We’ve never talked about this, and now you’re blaming me for something that happened two months ago?”
“I’m not—” Adam runs a hand through his hair in frustration.
“I’m not blaming you, June. I would never.
But unless you can tell me that you’re all in, then I don’t want us to happen like this—” He gestures his hands to nothing in particular.
“As a result of some heated argument? Our story deserves better than that.”
“Adam…” My heart breaks into a million pieces because he’s right, we do deserve better than that. Adam was raised on love—he’s not afraid of it. I don’t know how to be like that. “It’s not…it’s not that easy.” My words come out broken.
“It is that easy.” His voice softens, and when he stands up, I let go of his arm. I listen to the sound of his weight walking up the stairs and I sit still until I hear his bedroom door close.