Chapter 15 #2

for her.

“It is amazing,” Carly acknowledged. “There’s this myth that if you just pursue your dreams, they’ll come true. I’ve been

pursuing this one for over a decade. I work as a bartender full-time and write on the side. Maybe you can do what’s best for

everyone while still doing what’s best for you.”

“That’s true,” Adam said while focusing on the floor.

Carly sensed Adam wanted to move on, so she tried to change the subject. “Thorne, you said?”

“Kip Thorne, yeah.”

She scanned a shelf, bent down and followed the letters until the last names began with T. She eventually saw the last name

Thorne, and the book title, Black Holes she wanted their old life back. “I don’t want to come.”

“Oh,” Bruce said. “I thought we could watch our favorites on the big screen. Don’t you want to—”

Carly cut him off. “We can watch movies from Burbank that were made here.”

“Right,” he said.

“I have to go.”

“Carly.”

“What?” Her tone was sharp and annoyed. She wasn’t sure how she’d wanted the conversation to end. How was he supposed to respond

to what she’d said? Had she really just expected him to agree to move home?

“Just think about it, okay? I love you.”

She’d ended the call without saying goodbye and practically thrown the phone. She’d held her tears back until then, wanting

to play the role of disappointed daughter until the very end. And that was the last time she’d spoken to her dad.

Adam’s palm rubbed slow circles between Carly’s shoulder blades as she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. She hadn’t

told anyone else about that final conversation with Bruce. She’d been too ashamed to ever admit how ridiculously stubborn

she’d been.

“Something I want you to know is that relationships aren’t defined by the last thing you told someone. Time is both long and

short, as evidenced by this loop. And your dad would one hundred percent not dwell on that conversation. He’d be thinking

about the moments that defined his life—having you, for example.”

The day you were born was the start of my life, Bruce often said.

“Can I ask you something?” Carly looked at Adam. “How can you be such an asshole sometimes, but so kind now?”

Adam laughed, and a small smile broke across her face, too. Carly shook her head as she wiped away a final tear.

“I know we bicker a lot, in a sort of joking way, I think?” Adam gave her a look, as if to gauge whether or not she actually

disliked him.

“Joking, yes,” she admitted.

“But if I can be honest for a moment, no joking in sight, you actually inspired me the other day.”

“Do tell.” Carly crossed her arms, guarding herself against a potential blow.

“My dad told me that it might be time to move on . . . from Shireen.” Adam’s eyes flicked to Carly’s. “And I thought of you,

and how you have to be quite brave to do what you’re doing—betting on yourself with writing. And that sort of inspired me

to acknowledge that it’s time I start looking forward.”

Carly’s lips parted. She’d inspired Adam to do something? He’d thought of her in a moment when she wasn’t even there? That

might be the nicest thing she’d heard in a long time.

“I’ve rendered you speechless—not easy to do,” Adam said. “But if it’s helpful, maybe it’s time for you to look forward, too,

and let go of what happened with your dad.”

Carly was ready to embrace that this was her life, if that was all she had. She’d just have to move forward—or as forward

as possible in a time loop. She closed her eyes and told herself to just let go of the regret for not visiting her dad sooner.

And maybe it worked, because she felt lighter. Carly let out a breath and looked back to Adam. His honey eyes had little flecks

of gold in them, she realized.

She wanted Adam to kiss her. She wanted him to reach down and press his lips to hers and pull her body close. She wanted to know what the man who showed her shooting stars tasted like.

Carly watched as Adam’s breathing changed and he took a step closer. Maybe this thing she had for him wasn’t as one-sided

as she’d imagined. He placed a palm on the desk next to her. He was so much bigger and broader that all she could see was

him. His eyes studied hers, as if seeking permission.

“We haven’t tested your theory today,” he said.

Whatever was happening between them was completely unexpected, yet so natural that she couldn’t help but arch her hips toward

him. Do it, she tried to tell him.

“Maybe this is a good time . . .” Carly began to say.

Adam’s mouth opened, then closed. She wondered what he was holding back. But then he pressed his forehead to hers, and their

noses touched. He rubbed his big thumb across the line of her cheekbone, and his breaths came out hot against her lips, almost

teasing her with the idea of what it would be like to get even closer.

Who was this steady man with the shadow of a beard and the sleeves of his button-up shirt rolled to reveal his forearms? Adam’s

hand reached behind Carly’s head to tilt her mouth up to his. His eyes once again searched hers, waiting to see if she’d pull

away, but she didn’t want to.

“For the theory,” Adam said.

She gave a small nod. “Science is important.”

Then, without any further hesitation, Adam pressed his lips to hers. His mouth was full and firm. Carly’s hands found their

way around his shoulders and pulled his body in tight.

There was Adam’s tongue in her mouth, and his lips massaging hers and his fingers gently cradling the back of her neck.

As his lips traveled across her jaw, they gave a light touch that had her arching into him for more.

His breath fanned across her collarbone.

She tugged his hair to bring his mouth back.

She’d have to give him a new nickname. Adam the Attentive?

Then his palm found her low back and pulled her into him, and she could feel his hardness against the top of her thigh, showing

her just how much he was enjoying this, too. Adam the Alert?

As if on cue, the alarm on his watch pinged. Adam groaned. “The eclipse . . .”

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