Chapter 5 #3
My brain scrambles. The entire neighborhood is watching. Tyler's smirking like he knows something I don't. Adam's waiting, and I can see the question in his eyes—what are we?
"Adam's my neighbor," I hear myself say. "And friend."
The words land wrong immediately. I watch something flicker across Adam's face—hurt, maybe, or disappointment—before his expression closes off.
"Neighbor," Tyler repeats, and there's amusement in his tone. "How... cozy."
Emma appears at Adam's side, tugging his sleeve. "Daddy, who's that?"
"Just someone June knows, princess." Adam's voice is gentle with Emma, but when he glances at me, there's a distance that wasn't there thirty seconds ago.
Tyler, oblivious or deliberately obtuse, continues. "Well, June, we should catch up. Maybe dinner this week? I'm in town until next weekend."
Before I can formulate a response—before I can tell him absolutely not, that I have zero interest—Emma speaks up, bless her observant little heart.
"June is having dinner with us! Right, Daddy?"
Adam's jaw is tight, but he nods. "That's right. We have plans."
It's not true. We don't have plans. But the claim sends relief flooding through me anyway—Adam stepping in, establishing... something. Even if I just wounded him by calling him my friend.
Tyler's eyes narrow slightly, picking up on the tension. "I see. Well, good seeing you, June." He pulls out his phone, waves it slightly. "You still have my number if you change your mind."
He leaves, strolling back into the crowd like he didn't just detonate a bomb in the middle of my perfect afternoon.
Awkward silence descends. Adam's standing stiffly beside me, not meeting my eyes. Emma's looking between us, confused by the sudden shift in atmosphere.
"You don't have to explain," Adam says finally, voice strained.
"Tyler's my ex," I say quickly, standing to face him. "It ended two years ago. It wasn't serious."
"You called me your friend."
There it is—the hurt underneath, raw and honest.
My stomach drops. "Adam, I didn't mean—"
"It's fine." He cuts me off, but his voice says it's not fine. "We haven't defined anything. You don't owe me—"
I grab his hand, cutting him off. "I panicked. Tyler showing up, everyone watching, I just—" I take a breath, force myself to be brave. "You're not just my friend. You know you're not."
Adam's expression softens marginally, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. "No?"
"No." I step closer, holding his gaze even though my heart is hammering so hard I can barely hear over it. "You're..."
I struggle for words. How do I explain what he is?
That he's become the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thought before I sleep?
That a week of texting felt like the longest seven days of my life?
That standing here with his hand in mine feels more right than anything has in years?
"Daddy, June is your GIRLFRIEND, right?" Emma's voice rings out, clear and loud and absolutely devastating in its timing.
Every head within twenty feet turns. Conversations stop mid-sentence. Mrs. Henderson looks like she might actually faint from joy.
My face flames hot, but I don't deny it. I can't deny it. Not when it feels truer than the word "friend" ever could.
Adam's watching me, waiting, and I can see the vulnerability in his eyes—the hope and fear warring there. This is the moment. The choice.
Before I can formulate words that feel big enough for what I'm feeling, Adam steps closer. His hand comes up to cup my face, thumb brushing my cheek with devastating gentleness.
"Can I kiss you?" he asks, quiet but firm enough that I feel the words down to my bones.
The entire block party has gone silent. I'm aware, distantly, that we have an audience of approximately fifty people. That Mrs. Henderson has probably already started planning our wedding. That this moment will be dissected and discussed for months.
I don't care.
"Yes," I whisper.
Adam's eyes darken, his head tilting down, and I'm rising on my toes to meet him halfway. His breath is warm against my lips, the anticipation electric, and I can feel my eyes starting to flutter closed—
A harsh crackle shatters the moment—the radio clipped to Adam's belt coming to life.
Adam freezes, his hand still cradling my face, frustration flashing across his features.
"Structure fire, 423 Maple Street. Closest available units respond immediately."
The transformation is instant. Adam's expression shifts from tender to professional in a heartbeat, his body straightening, focus sharpening. He steps back, and the loss of his warmth is immediate and jarring.
"I have to go," he says, voice tight with regret and duty.
"I know." My voice sounds small, disappointed, but I understand. Of course I understand.
He looks at me for one more second—a look that holds promises and apologies and unfinished business. Then he's turning to Emma. "Princess, I have to go to work."
Emma nods solemnly, already understanding what it means when the radio calls.
Harper steps forward, reaching for Emma's hand, but I speak before I can second-guess myself.
"I can watch her." The words come out certain, clear. "Emma starts school tomorrow—she should be close to home. I can take her to your place, get her settled."
Adam's eyes snap to mine, surprise and something deeper flickering across his face. "June, you don't have to—"
"I want to." I crouch down to Emma's level. "Is that okay with you, sweetheart?"
Emma nods enthusiastically, worry already forgotten. "Can we watch a movie?"
"Absolutely."
Adam hesitates for only a heartbeat, then pulls his keys from his pocket, detaching the house key. His hand closes around mine as he presses it into my palm, fingers lingering.
"Thank you," he says, voice rough with gratitude and something unspoken.
"Be safe," I whisper.
"This conversation isn't over, June." It's not a question.
"I'll be here," I promise.
Then he's running toward his truck parked down the street, and I'm standing in the middle of the block party with his house key warm in my hand and his daughter's fingers slipping into mine.
Emma tugs my hand, looking up at me with those dark eyes so much like her father's. "Don't worry, June. Daddy always comes home."
I squeeze her hand, watching Adam's truck pull away, and hope she's right.