Chapter 15
At one in the morning, I’m drinking orange juice straight from the jug, staring at the emotional support pickle that Addie sent me. I swung by my old apartment earlier and found the broken box lying outside the door. There lay the little green pickle Reese warned me about, preserved in plastic protective wrap, peeping out of the destroyed cardboard box. If I’m being honest, I think Addie got my name embroidered on a dog toy.
I snatch the pickle off the counter and squeeze it as hard as I can to hear a drawn-out moan that sounds more like a foghorn than a squeak. It’s most definitely a dog’s squeak toy, but it’s still going in my keepsake box. To anybody else, this is a silly gag gift, but to me, it means that my friends, the most important people in the world to me besides my mother, haven’t forgotten me just because I’m gone. I don’t know why I was so hell-bent on a baby of my own. My girls are enough. My friends and my mother are all the family I need. Maybe I was selfish to want more.
But what now? What else could possibly distract me from the gnawing dissatisfaction of every life choice I’ve made to this point? I don’t think I’ve ever been so disappointed in humanity. For the longest time, I was a sheep following the herd, but now I can’t unsee that we’re all headed for a cliff. My entire worth is wrapped up in numbers. Amount of money, number of followers, metrics for engagement, watch time, accounts reached—all the shit that makes sense for a robotic machine.
But I’m not a machine. I’m a person.
I’m a really lonely person who talks to millions of people a day.
It’s so quiet that the buzz of my cell phone against the granite countertop startles me. I flip my phone over and see it’s Adam calling. It’s four in the morning in New York, and I’m sure he’s drunk and is probably craving a flirty video chat. I’m not in the mood for it. This whole summer guy thing seemed like a better idea when I actually had something to look forward to in the fall. Now, it just seems like I’m wasting time.
Still, it’s Adam, so I answer. “Hey, you’re up late.”
“That I am, and so are you,” he says, clear as day, completely sober. “Are you hungry?”
“Weird question, but actually I could eat.”
“Good,” he says. “Open the front door.”
I know he must be messing with me, but I scurry to the front door anyway. Squinting through the peephole, it’s not a joke, there he is. Once I open the door, I can clearly see a dog-eared, exhausted-looking Adam standing at my door with a small carry-on suitcase right next to him. His hair is a little disheveled and his dark pin-striped dress shirt is untucked and wrinkled.
“Why wouldn’t you just knock?” I ask.
He smirks. “Those grand romantic gestures may work in the movies, Amani, but this is real life. It’s one o’clock in the morning, you live alone, and you weren’t expecting anyone. If I was banging on your door in the middle of the night, wouldn’t that scare you?”
Fair point, but I’m still stuck on the first part of what he said about a grand romantic gesture. “Why are you back? I thought you had business to take care of,” I say as I anxiously dig my toes into the ground.
He smiles and glances down at his suitcase. “The pizza was so good, I had to bring you a slice. Barbieri’s only does pineapple and bacon, though, so I’m not sure if that’s still considered Hawaiian.”
“That’s the best kind of Hawaiian pizza,” I say with a firm nod.
“I also came to give you this.” Adam takes a small step forward and pulls me against his chest. He hugs me so tightly my bent arms are pinned against his chest and I’m unable to hug him back. He simply holds me in the doorway as he kisses the top of my head over and over. “I’m sorry about your bad day. I’m here now.”
“Adam, want to stay over?” I murmur against his chest.
“Yeah.” He releases me and grabs his small black hard case suitcase with one hand and I step aside from the doorway so he can make his way into the condo. “I took a rideshare here anyway. You’re stuck with me unless you want to drive me home.”
Following him into the kitchen, I smile as he unzips his luggage and pulls out a comically large slice of pizza wrapped in several layers thick foil. “Snuck this past security,” he says, beaming with pride.
I smirk. “What a rebel.”
“Well, all my clothes smell like pizza, and you’ll want to heat this up in the oven, but it’s worth it, I promise.” While he places the pizza on the counter, a small black box from the corner of his suitcase catches my eye. I recognize the gold trojan mascot.
“Did someone do a little airport shopping?” Squatting down next to his suitcase, I pull out the box of condoms. “Now I know why you flew back home in a hurry.”
He spins around slowly, his brows pinched and his lips pressed in a flat line. I stop smiling when I realize I’ve offended him. “Don’t do that,” Adam says, cocking his head to the side.
“Do what?” I ask.
“Cheapen this.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m glad you’re here…with condoms.” I shrug.
“Hey, come here.” He holds his hand out, and once I take it, he pulls me to my feet. Glancing around the empty living room, he asks, “You moved the bed?”
I nod, then let him pull me into the bedroom. He reaches for the light switch by the door as we pass. It must be a knee-jerk reaction because the overhead light is already on. Perhaps it’s an old habit from when he used to live here. Adam guides me to the blow-up mattress and we sit at the edge, side by side. “You need some furniture,” Adam says.
“Eh, I can make due for now.”
He spreads his legs into a wide V, his knee knocking against mine, but neither of us says anything. It’s just the sound of our breathing for what seems like far too long. Except the silence is comfortable. I’m just glad he’s here. All I’d have to do is lean to my right and I’d be in his arms.
“Sex with you is always on my mind. But that’s not why I came back.”
“Then why?”
“When it comes down to it, I know you can take care of yourself, Amani. You would’ve figured it out. You didn’t need my condo or my car.”
My laugh is breathy and small. “I don’t know, they are coming in handy at the moment.”
“My point is, it doesn’t bother me when you cry. It bothers me when you cry alone.” Reaching across his body, he brushes my cheek with the tip of his thumb. “Do you want to tell me all about your bad day?”
“Heavy honesty?” I ask.
Adam raises his brows, his forehead wrinkling. “Definitely.”
“It started before I moved out here. Something switched in me. I felt so blue all the time and it became a chore covering it up around people. I was always fighting tears. My appetite went up and down dramatically. I’d lose whole days, Adam, just sleeping.”
“Why? What happened?” he asks.
I hold my palms up. “Nothing happened. I think I was on social media so much, my job finally caught up with me. Have you ever scrolled the comment section of a viral video?”
“I can honestly say I have not.”
“Go find any funny video of a baby or a puppy doing something so innocently cute and I guarantee you’ll find the scum of humanity hanging out in the comments. Everyone is a pressure cooker on high, about to blow their lids, so easily triggered by anything. It’s shocking how we can find a way to hate beautiful things.” I exhale, feeling the weight melt off my shoulders. It feels good to admit all this out loud. “It’s like I woke up one day and couldn’t stop seeing how collectively miserable the world is. It broke my heart.”
“Cici always tells Chase to post and ghost on social media. Put whatever he wants out there—after she reads and approves it of course—but don’t engage.”
“Yeah, Adam. Really think about that.” I look up, meeting his eyes. “How fucked up is it that we have to teach ourselves to detach to survive one another. We don’t talk to each other, just at each other. I have to work like a dog to stay relevant and I just want to be significant to someone regardless of my following count.”
He draws in a deep breath and releases it. “It sounds like you have really good friends. You matter to them.”
“I know. I do. But that’s a different kind of love. I wanted something of my own. Someone who reminded me of the good in this world. Someone worth fighting for even on the worst days.”
“A baby,” Adam says.
I nod. “But I don’t publicize any of this because I don’t want more opinions on my life. Faceless bots don’t need to tell me whether I should or shouldn’t be a mom, or when I need mental health counseling. Or what I should wear or what words, brands, or music I should or shouldn’t like.
“My best friend Noa gets judged for being a stay-at-home mom and not having a career of her own. My other best friend Quinn gets judged for not being a mom and pouring herself into work, chasing success. We’re damned if we do, damned if we don’t, and I just want to shout through a fucking bullhorn that people should live their lives instead of spending so much time and energy commenting on how strangers should be living their lives.”
Adam tucks my hair behind my ear and kisses my cheek. A sweet, simple gesture to comfort me. “I had no idea it was that bad. I just don’t look.”
I try to smile, but my lips only twitch half-heartedly. “I used to be able not to look. Now I can’t unsee it. I think fixating on a baby got me through. It was my hope. Now that it’s off the table, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
He clears his throat as he stretches his legs. “Amani, money isn’t a problem for me. I could easily pay—”
“No,” I interrupt, holding up my palm. “Thank you, but no way am I bringing a baby into this world off of charity. If I can’t figure this out, it wasn’t meant to be.”
He rubs his red eyes. Poor guy looks so tired. He flew all the way back home just to hear my sob story. “Well, if you won’t let me help you, can I at least hold you?” he asks, throwing his head back, gesturing to the pillows.
“Yes, that I welcome.” I shimmy up the mattress and peel back my pink comforter before burrowing under the covers.
Adam runs his hand back and forth over the fuzzy blanket. “This is growing on me.”
I laugh. “Yeah? Remind me tomorrow and I’ll send you the buy link. I get like a one-percent commission.”
He laughs before he rises to his feet and unbuttons his dress shirt, tossing it to the side. Then he pops the button on his black jeans before sliding down his pants. He folds them before tossing them aside. He watches my eyes darting between his firm pecs, down the smooth ridges of his abs, and then landing on the slight bulge in his thin gray briefs. “It’s late. We don’t have to do anything. I’m stripping down because your blanket is just a million degrees,” he explains.
Grabbing the edge of my comforter I toss it back to the edge of the bed and use my feet to push it the rest of the way off. “It’s a winter comforter. I usually sleep alone and I run cold. You can be my blanket tonight, though.” I pat the empty space next to me, just like I did the first time Adam and I slept next to each other. Except this time there’s no baby between us. There’s nothing between us. And suddenly, I’m not so tired. I take off my top, shivering as the cool air finds my exposed nipples.
He smiles, his dimples deepening as his eyes bounce between my eyes to my chest. “Your inside matches your outside. Do you know that? Beautiful. Breathtaking.”
I must be blushing. I think it’s why he says these things. Just to know he has me, and based on the flood of warmth and satisfaction running through my veins, I know he does. I think I like every version of this man. Sassy, smart, sexy, and completely into me.
“Great line, Adam,” I finally say.
He exhales with a barely-there laugh. “I don’t have lines for you, Amani. I’m just trying to be—”
“Yourself?” I finish for him and scrunch my face, attempting to be adorable. But he adamantly shakes his head.
“No, summer girl. I’m trying to be better than myself for you.”
I uncross my legs and scramble to my feet, rushing to press my body against his, my lips on his lips. “Why?” I ask between soft kisses.
“I’d tell you if I knew,” he murmurs against my lips. “Maybe timing. Or maybe because you’re you. It doesn’t matter. Just know you have me in a way no one has before.” He slides his tongue over mine, and I feel the vibration from his soft moan. He pulls away from my lips to kiss the tip of my nose. “You have a lot of power over me right now. Don’t abuse it.”
I chuckle. “Don’t make me laugh. You’re ruining the moment.”
“What moment?”
Heat rises in my cheeks, but swept up in the moment, I say the cheesy words on my mind. “I feel like I’m in the middle of a love song. Let me pretend it’s real for a minute.”
“Who’s pretending?” Adam hooks his fingers in the waistband of my pajama shorts and underwear and pulls them down to my knees. Gravity does the rest, and once my clothes are on the floor, Adam’s on his knees, peeling my thighs apart.
I gasp when his wet tongue slicks over my clit. “Are you going to do this every single time?” I ask breathily.
“Do you still like it?”
“Yes.” I groan as he continues to flick his tongue, then gently tugs on my piercing with his teeth.
“Then every single fucking time,” he mumbles. “Lie down, I’ll be right back.” He moves to the door, no doubt to fetch a condom, but I catch him by his forearm.
“Adam, even with medical intervention it’d be extremely difficult for you to get me pregnant.” He cocks his head to the side, pity filling his expression.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you feel like—”
“You just flew across the country in the middle of the night to give me a hug. I have a feeling I’m the only girl you’re sleeping with. I trust you if you trust me.”
Pivoting, he pushes me backward into the mattress before pulling down his briefs, his cock springing free. Hooking his forearms underneath my thighs, he scoots me backward, crinkling the sheets underneath us as he makes room to kneel in front of me. He brushes his thumbs underneath my eyes. “These damn freckles,” he murmurs.
I soak up his gaze. The way he’s looking at me right now makes me wonder if I can survive our summer arrangement. I know love tends to happen when you’re not looking. But could this be the beginning of love? Or are we two people who desperately need a distraction from their heartbreak?
“I’m not sleeping with anyone else, Amani.” He positions the smooth tip of his generous length against my slit, rubbing it up and down, trying to coat himself with my arousal. “I’m not even thinking about anyone else,” he says before pushing into me.
I gasp as he fills me. “Slow,” I beg.
It’s not just his girth and length, which would be a bit much for any woman, but it’s been a long time since I’ve done this.
“Sorry, how’s this?” He hisses as he pushes and pulls, trying to keep himself composed. He plants his hand by the side of my head as he hovers over me, slowly pumping into me. I close my eyes and rest against the strained muscles of his forearm. Judging by the way his fist is balled up and how tense his arm is, I’m sure he wants to bury into me with reckless abandon.
But that’s the problem with being on the brink of premature menopause. It’s hard to get wet. It’s starting to hurt. The dry friction makes me wince, and he notices.
“Are you okay?”
“Sorry,” I mutter. “I should’ve warned you. It’s not you. It’s just part of my hormone issues. I have some lube somewhere.”
“You were really wet when we fooled around on the bathroom counter the other day.”
“Maybe I had less on my mind,” I admit.
Still nestled inside of me, he leans down to kiss my lips, my cheeks, my forehead. “You need to take a break from all your worrying, Amani. Try to relax.”
The minute he pulls out, I miss him, feeling empty when our bodies are no longer entwined. But before I can hoist myself up to fetch the little bottle of lube I have stashed in the bathroom, Adam grabs me by my hips and rolls me over. He pushes my legs together and straddles my upper thighs. His cock resting patiently against my right butt cheek.
He rubs his hands behind me rapidly, and when he places his hands on my shoulders, they’re warm. Pressing the heel of his palms against me firmly, he moves them up and down, kneading away the tension in my back.
I moan sweetly. “A massage during sex?” I ask.
“I know how to pull out the boyfriend treatment.”
I jostle us both as I giggle but stop as soon as I feel his lips against my spine. I twitch from the torturous tickle. Adam kisses downward past the small of my back. He nips my ass, then kisses and sucks where he bit. I’d question what he’s doing, but his playfulness intrigues me. His hands are everywhere, leaving a trail of goose bumps wherever he touches. Wedging his hand beneath my chest, he finds my nipples, pinching them until I groan in blissful agony.
Then his hands are between my thighs, working his way into me. He switches hands, pumping his longest finger in and out until I hear the squelching sound of my arousal. I moan as I clench around his hand.
He repositions himself and then it’s his cock replacing his finger, but he’s met with no resistance this time. “Fuck, that feels good,” he murmurs. “So wet for me. You just needed to relax, baby.”
I bite the pillow, enjoying the sounds of his grateful moans as he takes me to the brink. I curl my toes and tense my thighs, chasing my orgasm until I’m trembling beneath him. There’s no escape. He has me pinned beneath his legs, so I just have to bite my lip, trying to absorb the blinding ecstasy of my release.
Adam’s not far behind and when his breathing goes rapid, I realize I didn’t tell him where he could come. I open my mouth, scrambling to form the words, “wherever you want,” but he rips out of me too soon. I look over my shoulder to see him fisting the tip of his cock, not a single drop of his releases escaping his clutches. Once he catches his breath, he maneuvers off me, swinging his leg around, shuffling off the mattress, still firmly cupping his cock. He pauses just long enough to kiss my cheek. “You’re so good, baby. I’ll be right back.”
I shut my eyes for a moment, feeling the softness of the pillow against my cheek. For a moment, I’m content. Nothing in the world seems too troublesome to manage right now.
When Adam returns, he pulls on his briefs, replaces the covers on the bed, and then flips off the light switch. He lies down and spoons me from behind. “I’d rather be hot than you cold,” he murmurs as he tucks me in.
“That didn’t feel like a hookup,” I say to the wall, facing away from him.
“Because it wasn’t,” he murmurs into my hair. “What if you weren’t moving? Would you date me past the summer?”
“Hm, I don’t know. We still want different things.”
He brushes my hair over my shoulder so he can kiss my bare shoulders. “Maybe in time, Amani. I don’t know. Maybe in a few years, I’ll be a different guy and we’ll be having a different conversation. I just need time. And I need you to stay.”
I spin in his arms, searching for his eyes even though it’s too dark to clearly see. “Chase is in Denver. Surely you could do your job from there.”
His cheek brushes against the pillow we’re sharing as he nods. “It’s not my job that’s the problem. It’s my dad. I can’t afford to be in a different state and miss the moments I do have with him.”
“Oh.” It’s a good reason. I would’ve felt the same about moving if my mom wasn’t surrounded by her friends.
“But if it wasn’t for that, I’d consider it. I really would. I had a crush on you forever. I didn’t expect to fall for you.”
“Are you? Already falling for me?”
He chuckles. “See? My game is completely thrown around you. Smooth Line Adam wouldn’t have put his cards on the table first like that.”
“Hey, can I ask you something?” Maybe it’s the wrong time to bring it up, but I’ve never felt closer to Adam, and I can’t help thinking of the gnawing mystery Alex dropped on my lap the other day.
“Of course.”
“Alex said once upon a time you really wanted to be a dad. And you got close, but it didn’t happen. What does that mean?”
Adam stills. The dead silence between us has my stomach turning. Oh no. What did I do? Was it something devastating? Did I just bring up a miscarriage?
As if he can read my mind, he says, “It wasn’t anything too grim. The baby is alive and well.” He forces out a deep breath.
“You don’t have to tell me,” I say.
“No, I want to,” he assures me. “It’s just hard to talk about without me sounding like an ass. I really don’t want you to think I’m a bad person.”
“What happened?”
“I wasn’t one of those guys who just tolerated marriage. I actually liked being married. I loved my wife, and when I found out we were expecting, I thought I was in the middle of an American dream. The only thing that was missing was the big house with the picket fence, money in the bank, a fat retirement. So I worked like a dog to get them. I thought I was doing all the good things for my family…”
“That does sound like you were doing all the right things for your family,” I say.
“I certainly thought so at the time,” he says. “But in hindsight, I didn’t see how unhappy she was. I was never around. I guess she felt lonely and went looking for comfort elsewhere. She had an affair. As far as I know, they were only together a handful of times, but that’s where the baby came from. For most of her pregnancy, I thought the baby was mine. Liv’s guilty conscience caught up with her toward the end. She finally told me about a month before the baby was due.”
I’m furious for him. Why would she throw away something so genuine with a man who actually wanted to be there for his family? Especially if his only crime was working too much while trying to give his wife and baby a nice life.
“Adam, why would I ever think you’re the ass in that situation?”
“Because I divorced her when she needed me the most. It makes me the bad guy.”
“There’s no way you can blame yourself for that,” I murmur.
“I do. I’m not angry about the cheating anymore. I’m angry at what she turned me into. All I wanted was to meet that baby, and I turned my back on both of them. I know what she did was unforgivable—not just the cheating, the lying too. But I left my family the same way my mom left when I was young. Liv turned me into my mom, and I think I still resent her for it.”
I place my palm flat against his cheek as if I could absorb his anguish. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. That is awful, Adam.”
He places his hand on top of mine. “That’s why you’re so important to me. I’ve been stuck for a long time, and I guess I feel like I’m getting more…unstuck with you. If you could just give me some time to thaw out, so to speak, we can talk about the big things you want. Maybe one day, I could entertain the idea of being a dad again. I’m just not ready right now.”
I don’t think I’ve ever had a more genuine, honest moment with a man. If someone had told me at the start of summer this moment would be with Adam, I would have laughed in their face.
I lean forward and touch my lips to his. “If I had time, I’d give it to you. That’s the problem with my window closing. It’s now or never. But it’s a moot point now anyway.”
“Are you okay with that?” he asks.
My short laugh is humorless. “It’s not like I was given a choice.” I roll around and slide my hips backward, lining my body against his as tightly as I can. This time, there’s no wiggly toddler between us. It’s just me and Adam alone in this bed. And it’s almost as satisfying…
Almost.