Chapter Nine Eleanor #3
My elbow needles into Adam’s side, and he huffs a warm laugh against my neck. I suppress a shiver and duck my chin. “Understood.”
We’ve caught the attention of the other couples waiting for the game to begin, and before I know it, a woman who barely looks eighteen is pulling her equally baby-faced husband over to us.
“Hey, y’all! You’re here for the newlywed game too?”
“We are,” I say, unable to stop myself from eyeballing her.
She’s the kind of pretty that you’d think I’d be numb to, after living in LA for so long—perfect teeth and a youthful glow, long legs and a narrow waist emphasized by the fact that she’s wearing only a bikini, sheer cover-up dress, and espadrilles.
Maybe it’s because I live in LA that my brain automatically catalogues all of her features that way, as if searching through my mental Rolodex to determine if she’s someone borderline famous that I should recognize.
But no, in this case she’s just a girl from Texas, which she tells us immediately.
“We’re from Dallas. Well, not actually Dallas—a suburb outside Dallas.
You probably haven’t heard of it. We were on the news last year because we got this really freaky snowstorm?
But I’m not sure if it was on the news everywhere, or if it was only big news in Texas because we don’t usually get much snow, and we lost power for like two weeks.
I was walking around in every sweater I own—it was crazy. ”
Beside her, the husband chews gum and nods slowly.
“I’m Tess, by the way,” she goes on. She hip-bumps her partner and beams up at him. “This is Danny.”
She looks back at us expectantly, waiting for us to introduce ourselves. This shouldn’t present a challenge, but my palms are sweating, and despite the fact that we’re outside, I’m feeling a bit claustrophobic.
“This is Eleanor,” Adam volunteers. “I’m Adam.”
“How long have you two been married?”
“Twelve hours,” Adam answers, and I can’t see his expression from our position, but his tone suggests they’ve been the longest hours of his life. “Give or take.”
Tess’s face lights up. “A Vegas wedding? Us too!”
We’re joined by the third couple, who introduce themselves as Chris and Harvey.
“They’re from California,” Tess informs us dutifully.
“The Bay Area,” Chris adds, to which Tess nods excitedly.
“What about y’all?”
“LA.” I brace for an enthusiastic response from Tess, and am not disappointed. She bounces on the balls of her feet and claps her hands, and I get the distinct impression this woman has been a cheerleader at some point in her life.
“Oh my god, what a small world!”
Despite the urge to point out that LA and San Francisco are six hours apart, or that it really isn’t that big of a coincidence so many of us are from California, I find myself reluctantly charmed by Tess and bite my tongue. It’s her relentless positivity—it reminds me a bit of Iris.
“So did the two of you elope?” Adam asks, and naturally, Tess is the one to answer.
“Yes! We were high school sweethearts. Our parents are actually pretty supportive, but we didn’t want to spend money on a big wedding when we still have college to pay for. Well—I do, at least. Danny has a football scholarship.”
She loops her arms around his waist and gazes up at him adoringly. One corner of Danny’s mouth tugs up, almost sheepish, and he drops a kiss on her forehead. The whole exchange is unaffected and sweet and reinforces how in love they actually are.
Chris volunteers that he and Harvey met back in college and have lived together for nearly twenty years, but only got married last month. “We have a big trip to Europe planned this summer—”
“A cruise,” Harvey adds with a bit of an eye roll.
Chris scoffs. “It’s a luxury ship with stops in the Greek Isles. Don’t act like you’re not excited.”
Tess bites her lip. “I went on a Disney cruise once when I was in middle school!”
Harvey blinks at her. “I’m sure that was lovely.”
“Anyway,” Chris cuts in, presumably before Harvey can say anything snarky. “We’re just here for a quick mini-moon.”
No one says anything for a long moment, and in spite of the awkwardness, the bit that I’m still hung up on is the fact that they’ve been together two decades.
I begin to cast my gaze around for Mae, or the Ryan Seacrest guy.
This is going to be excruciating, and likely humiliating, and I want it over with.
When Adam speaks behind me, the soft rumble of his voice against my back reminds me that he is still, for some reason, holding me close to his body.
“We’re planning our honeymoon,” he says.
I turn my head to look at him, baffled. He shoots me a wink.
I whip my head to face forward again and his hands tighten around my waist. My breath hitches.
His pinkie slides down and catches on the waistband of my shorts.
I cross my legs and refuse to be turned on right now, even if Mae did ask us to sell it.
“I want to travel through Asia.” He gives me a little squeeze and adds, “But this one isn’t a huge fan of flying, so maybe we’ll go somewhere a bit closer, like Hawaii.”
How does Adam know I don’t like to fly? I can’t remember if this is something I mentioned at some point, or if he’s just making shit up and happened to stumble upon something true.
I clear my throat. All I can think to say is: “Hawaii?”
“You know I’d go anywhere with you, baby.”
My nails dig into Adam’s forearm, hard enough to leave little half-moons behind.
It’s not that I have strong feelings one way or the other about that particular pet name.
But the husky quality of Adam’s voice has my gut turning molten.
I blame Tyler for how easy it is to imagine Adam using that voice in bed, lips against my neck as he talks me through an orgasm.
My skin flares hot enough to broadcast how much he’s affecting me, and I risk a glance over my shoulder.
I can only watch helplessly as Adam’s brows pucker, and then slowly—so slowly—understanding dawns and his lips curve into a smug smile.
We’re already playing a game, Adam and I. It’s my turn to make a move, to say something flirty and push the boundary a bit more, but my brain is having trouble keeping up. The heat of his gaze feels too real.
I have not gotten this far in life without learning how to tell if someone wants to kiss me. Adam thought about it, back at the bar. Call it a moment of weakness, but I would’ve let him.
I’m abruptly aware of the fact that I didn’t have time to shower this morning, and that the powdery scent of my deodorant is nowhere near as nice-smelling as Adam’s cologne.
I’m also very aware of the fact that if I turned my head another couple of inches, the stubble along his jaw would scrape against my lips.
Which makes me think about how his stubble would feel in other, more sensitive places.
“Have you been together a long time?” Tess asks.
“No, we actually got together pretty recently,” Adam answers. “We’ve known each other for years, though.”
“Oh, really? How’d you start dating?”
“Do you want to tell the story, babe, or should I?”
The spark in Adam’s eye does not help my nervous system settle down.
“Actually, can you excuse us?” I blurt out, grabbing Adam’s hand. I drag him away without waiting for a response. Once we’re on the other side of the stage and out of earshot, I release his hand and cross my arms.
“So, I think we have a problem,” I tell him.
Adam’s lingering smile slips. “What do you mean?”
“These people are real couples,” I say, gesturing vaguely behind me to where Tess and the others are standing. “They have histories and inside jokes. And as good as you are at spinning bullshit, there is no way we can compete with that.”
“It’s not like we’re strangers.”
“Sure. Fine. But we’re not together.” Regardless of how surprisingly good Adam was at pretending.
Adam’s mouth tightens. He steps fully in front of me, and then both hands are on my shoulders. Adam dips his head so we’re eye to eye, and then just… maintains eye contact while saying nothing. It is highly unnerving.
“What is happening right now?”
“We’re getting on the same wavelength,” Adam says without blinking.
I stare back into his hazel eyes, noticing every speck of color in his irises and the tiny freckle on his right eyelid—details I should probably never be close enough to notice—and for a few seconds, it almost feels like it’s working.
Like we’re connecting on some deep, intimate level.
But then, of course, I realize that’s ridiculous.
This is just some bizarre pregame ritual of Adam’s.
A way for him to hype himself up and get in the zone, and we are not connected in any way besides circumstance, no matter how much we might have seemed like “relationship goals” to Mae last night.
I break eye contact and swat his hands away. “Okay, stop. I feel like you’re trying to hypnotize me or something. It’s creepy.”
Adam frowns like I’m the weird one, but he straightens and gets out of my personal space all the same. “Don’t stress out about this. We know each other well enough to fake it.”
“Yeah? What’s my favorite color?”
“… Green?”
“Blue. What pizza toppings do I like?”
“I really don’t think they’re going to ask about—”
“See? We’re screwed.”
Adam draws in a breath, a serious set to his brows. “Do you want to bail?”
I shake my head. “We can’t bail.”
Mae made it clear she wouldn’t take down the post unless we played along, and she strikes me as mildly unhinged, so I wouldn’t put it past her to promote it even more if we piss her off.
So really, there’s only one solution.
“We have ten minutes to learn everything important about each other.”