34. Emily
Emily
“ S ome days I miss playing the violin,” I tell him.
My head is resting in Adam’s lap and I feel so content and relaxed around him that it sort of terrifies me. That orgasm loosened something in my brain and has me wanting to tell Adam everything.
He links our hands together and studies my fingers and nails as if it’ll clue him into teenage me. “Why did you stop?”
“Because I didn’t reach a goal I had set for myself.”
My need for perfection had to have stemmed from the lack of attention from my parents. I’d have to ask Kamryn about that, but along the way with me playing, I fell in love with the instrument. But when the emails and calls never rolled in after that final showcase I knew I needed to let that dream go. Maybe it was a way of letting that part of my parents go as well. As sad as I was to not become employed playing professionally, I love that my job now allows me to shape young minds in an influential and direct way.
“And what goal was that?”
I hold his hand, palm side up, and trace the lines in an effort to gather my thoughts. “I wanted to play in the Philadelphia Orchestra. I had this big recital my senior year of high school. Professors from different colleges were invited along with conductors from the Big Five.”
“What’s the Big Five?”
“Have you heard of the New York Philharmonic?”
Adam nods his head. “Of course I have.”
“They’re one of the five. Along with Boston, Chicago, Cleveland, and Philadelphia.”
“Sounds like a gang.”
Laughing at the observation, because I had that thought more than once. “It does. But the term isn’t used as much anymore. Anyway, I wanted Philadelphia because it was close to home.”
I realize now I was living in a world that was created by a child. I was living in a world where I thought if I could just shine brighter, my parents would notice. That world was created from pure innocence. No pain had reached her or affected the trajectory of her life. She lived in a fairytale. I lived in a fairytale.
“And you haven’t played since?”
I shake my head as best as I can while still lying in his lap. “No. I want to though. It was a big part of my life. It taught me discipline and poise. Patience was also a big learning lesson. Rhythm and keeping the beat for a song is also something that’ll never leave me.”
“Would you ever play again?”
I look up into Adam’s eyes and don’t detect a lick of judgment, just curiosity. “Is it strange if I say I’m scared? Because I spent years loving something only for me to be fine without it.”
The first time I picked up the violin, this nervous-anticipation feeling flowed through my body at an electric speed. It was a new experience. And as I got older that nervous-anticipation feeling morphed into breathing. I could place my violin in the playing position and my breath would follow the beat of playing. When I closed my violin case for the final time, I had no idea that the spring concert at school would be my final time.
A warm breeze ruffles my hair around my face and Adam tames it as best as he can. “I think it’s normal to be scared.”
“Yeah,” I muse thoughtfully. “I’m wondering if our pasts will always be this thing that’s in our relationship with us.”
“So we’re in a relationship?” Adam asks with a barely contained smile.
Sitting up, I push him back to where he’s lying down. I crawl over his body and straddle his lap, running my hands over his torso, tracing his tattoos and flipping the hoop of his nipple ring, feeling his cock jump under me, I state, “Well I’m not dating anyone. I assume you and Dylan will be enough for me to handle. And if I recall, again, you said once the school year ended that you were making me yours. Do I need to keep reminding your old man brain?”
“That I did,” Adam agrees. He’s about to continue speaking when my stomach grumbles loud enough to be heard over the music. I fall into the crook of his neck, laughing because what a time for an interlude.
“Okay,” he says through laughter. “Food first and then I make you mine.”
“Deal,” I agree against his lips and hold on as he makes to get off the cabana. Holding on tighter as Adam gets up and walks us into the pool, our lips still loving together with the cool pool water a welcome salve to my hot skin.
My legs wrap tighter around his waist as we sink deeper into the pool.
“I thought you were hungry?” Adam asks. The sun has brought out the freckles over the bridge of his nose and cheeks and I mentally trace over each one.
“I am. But I wanna kiss you a little more.”
His eyebrows raise and the smirk that took my breath away the first time appears. “You do, do you?”
“Mm-hmm. Is that okay with you?”
“Yeah, baby. That’s okay with me.”
His smile and half-mast eyelids disappear when our lips mesh together. Our hands roam as the summer sun shines down on us, heating our barely-cooled skin.
The smell of steak cooking on the grill rouses me from sleep. After Adam kissed me silly, he swiftly retreated from the pool and I pulled my body onto a pool hammock to let the summer sun warm my body. Looking around, I spot him on the deck with a look of concentration on his face and a beer grasped in his hand.
I never pictured myself dating a single dad. Let alone a man with tattoos and whose nipples are pierced. But I’m finding that all three of those things make Adam, Adam. And I like those things about him. Doesn’t hurt that he likes me the way I am. Trauma and all. He listens to me, talks with me and not to me, and he was especially respectful of the boundaries I had in place.
Sliding off the pool hammock, I swim my way to the pool steps. Climbing out of the pool, the food completely abandoned on the grill as Adam looks on when I walk up the pool steps.
“You are every wet dream come to life.” He tells me.
I snag a towel from the patio chair behind him and wrap it around my body. “Have a lot of wet dreams, do you?”
He takes a healthy sip of his beer. “Not at all.”
“Okay, macho man.” Dropping my towel, I pull on a white coverup dress.
It’s just around three in the afternoon and the summer sun has yet to let up on the shine or the heat. I apply a light layer of aloe vera lotion to help soothe my reddened skin and the relief is instant.
Walking up next to Adam, I loop my arm around his waist and peer over his shoulder.
“Steaks are almost done,” he announces. “The corn on the cob and potatoes are done.”
“It smells really good.” I praise.
“Thanks, baby. I have a few wine choices, but I think a red will pair best with the steak.”
“I’ll get it,” I announce and place a kiss on his shoulder. “Where is it?” I ask as I walk backward to the patio door.
“In the wine fridge on the far wall. And the wine glasses are in the cupboard right above.”
With a nod and a wink, I make quick work of getting the wine and glasses. I make another quick perusal of the space and realize this isn’t just a house where he raises Dylan. It’s a home where he and Dylan grow.
I walk with a spring in my step back out to the patio, placing the wine and glasses on the patio table. The wine opener sitting on the table beckons me to uncork the bottle. Adam places our food on the table as I fill my glass with a hefty pour of the rich red wine. His body heat encompasses me as I fill his glass up too and place the bottle on the table.
“Cheers,” Adam claims as he holds up his glass. “To new beginnings.”
I pick up my glass and clink it to his. “Cheers.”
We hold eye contact as we each take a sip of our wine.
“So you got your first tattoo at eighteen?”
Our empty plates sit abandoned at the end of the patio table. Conversation was at a minimum as we ate our food in comfortable silence. I decided that if Adam wanted to cook for me for the rest of his life, I’d happily sit with a glass of wine and watch.
“Yes and if Dylan gets one the way I did, I’m grounding him. I won't care that he’s technically an adult.”
His dad-side coming out makes me laugh. “How did you get your first tattoo?”
“At a house party when I was eighteen,” he says with a grimace on his face.
“Oh, Adam. If I was your mother I surely would have grounded you.”
“You would have?” He leans into the table to ask.
“Mm-hmm. And then again once I found you got your nipples pierced. Although they are the hottest thing I’ve seen and not at all what I expected from you.”
Adam pushes back from the table and grabs our plates. “What did you expect?”
“The tattoos were unexpected but they’re growing on me.” I voice as I gather up our polished-off wine bottle and empty wine glasses, trailing behind Adam into the kitchen.
“Duly noted,” he tells me as he turns the water for the kitchen sink on.
We work as a team with rinsing our dishes and loading them into the dishwasher. I wash off the tongs and wipe down the counters while Adam scrubs down the grill.
“More pool?” Adams questions when he’s joined me back in the kitchen.
Glancing outside I shake my head. “How about a movie?” I meet Adam’s eyes as he nods his head. “Any chance I can shower?”
“Is that an invitation?” He queries as he crowds my space.
My hands land on his chest in an attempt to hold him back. “No.”
“Okay,” he agrees with a kiss on my forehead. “You can shower in my bathroom.”
I pin him with a stare that usually has my students shaking.
“Just to shower, Ms. Bailey. I promise.”
“Lead the way, then,” I say with a flourish of my hand.
He grabs my bag from the kitchen island and I follow him like a needy cat. My eyes travel over the pictures lining the wall as we head up the stairs. Dylan in all stages of life, candids of them both, and some landscape shots. It’s another tiny peek into their life as a family of two.
At the top of the stairs, Adam turns right and heads to the only door at the end of the long hallway. He leads the way into a spacious primary bedroom with a sitting area off to the side that catches the setting sun. His room is swathed in shades of blue and warm wooden touches. A fluffy cream rug adds texture and warmth to the wooden floor that I’m sure gets cold in the winter. The bed is a huge dark oak four-poster king-size bed with a cream-colored linen duvet and an even amount of pillows that I could sink into.
“It’s just your room on this end, huh?”
The thump of my bag being set on his dresser pulls my focus to him. “Yeah. After we lived in our last apartment I realized that Dylan and I needed rooms that weren’t next to each other. Having a 6 AM wake-up call after working the closing shift for work proved me to be insufferable.”
“I’ll bet. Well, everything I’ve seen of your house is beautiful. You should be proud, Adam.”
“Thank you.” He accepts the praise and crosses his arms over his chest. “Bathroom is through here and there are towels in the small linen closet.”
Adam steps aside to allow me entrance to his spacious primary bathroom. It’s safe to say he loves color.
White hexagon tiles give the floor a clean feel that’s not overly sterile. A thin rug runner sits in front of the double oak wood vanity that contrasts beautifully with the dark navy blue backsplash that runs from the vanity to the standup shower. A massive soak-in tub sits in front of the bay windows providing an uninterrupted view of the dense forest lining Adam’s backyard. The gold handles and knobs compliment the wood tones of the bathroom vanity and the white countertops complete the room.
“Is it your goal to get me to not want to leave?” I ask him as I run my hands over the gold faucet of one of the sinks.
“If I say yes, will you stay?”
I meet his gaze in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. “We’ll start with sleepovers.”
“I can work with that. Well, I’ll let you shower and then we can pick out a movie.”
“Okay.” I watch him push off the doorframe and leave his bedroom, closing the door with a soft click.
Adam overwhelms me in the best possible way. And as I turn on the waterfall shower I realize that jumping into something with him could either end in love or disaster.