Giving In to You

by L. M. Carr

Before I can respond, she smiles, her demeanor changing, and says, “You seem to be in a good place this year.” Mrs. Chapman, like many of my colleagues, knows that I dealt with some serious shit years ago. They don’t know the extent of it, but I know that people talk. It is a small town, after all.

  “I’m good. Thank you.” My eyes are glued to the folder, wondering what its contents may reveal. My blood pressure is through the roof.

  “Well, I’m happy to hear that.”

  I smile waiting for the bad news to hit me.

  “There is something I’d like to talk to you about.” She fingers the folder.

  “Okay…” My heart starts to beat even faster. I feel a bead of sweat form above my right eyebrow. Am I about to be busted? Teaching is everything I have; it’s who I am. I can’t lose my job. I can only imagine the rumors that are sure to swirl around town once I’m unemployed. It will be unbearable.

  “I know you were out of sorts last spring and I don’t need to know the details. I also know you’ve got a lot on your plate with coaching and all, but I was wondering if you’d like to chair the Harvest Festival this year?”

  Chair the Harvest Festival? Are you kidding me? That’s what this is about? I’m not being fired? I haven’t been outed about sleeping with Adam? A disbelieving laugh escapes my lips and earns me an odd look in the form of a raised eyebrow from the rail-thin woman sitting in her oversized leather chair.

  “Well, I’m not quite sure yet if I’m going to be coaching this year, but I’d love to serve as chair. The kids love this event. Just tell me where to sign up.” I smile, letting out the breath I was holding.

  The folder is opened and a sheet of paper is slid across the desk, listing names of parents and faculty who’ve volunteered to help out with the event. There is contact information for vendors and volunteers. I scan the names quickly. My breathing hitches when I see Gina DeGennaro’s name highlighted in fluorescent yellow.

  “Actually, would you mind very much if I give it some thought?” I ask ruefully. “I’ve just started taking a class on-line and I don’t know how demanding it will be.” What the hell is wrong with me? Why should I let this viper deter me from doing something I love?

  She eyes me suspiciously before looking down at the paper I hand back.

  “Mia, what degree could you possibly be going for now? Don’t you have two Master’s degrees and a Sixth Year degree in Administration?

  I shrug my shoulders and smile sheepishly at her words. She doesn’t need to know that the only reason I kept pursuing degrees is my therapist told me to keep my mind busy. I was in a bad place, constantly living in the past and dealing with all the “what ifs.”

  “Sure. Can you let me know by tomorrow? I’d like to get things rolling as soon as possible.”

  I smile and turn to leave.

  “By the way, I have that letter of recommendation for you, if you still need it.”

  “Okay, thank you.” I don’t know if I’ll need it, but it’s always a good idea to keep my options open. Who knows what the future holds.

  ***

  THREE O’CLOCK SHARP.

  “Hello, Miss Delaney.”

  “Hello, Mr. Lawson.”

  ***

  SIX THIRTY-THREE, Adam pulls into my driveway, and saunters into the kitchen after a hard day at the office. I can’t imagine what’s so hard about an office job. It’s not like he’s teaching nineteen second graders all day.

  “Hello, beautiful.” His arms wrap around my waist, embracing me. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you?” I pull back and eye him skeptically.

  “Who are you and what have you done with Adam Lawson?” I grin, kissing him, inhaling his scent.

  “He’s right here, baby.” His erection is pushed into my belly, causing me to squirm.

  “I’ve missed you,” I confess honestly. I have missed him. This constant roller coaster of emotions is exhausting.

  “I made dinner. You hungry?” I nod towards the oven where chicken marsala simmers on low.

  “I’m always hungry for you.” Adam pulls my dress up, slips my panties off, lifts me up onto the island, and then slides the salad bowl out of the way as he proceeds to feast on me for an appetizer. What is it with this man and my kitchen, specifically, my island?

  We sit side by side, rather than across from each other, while we enjoy our dinner which had to be warmed up for obvious reasons. I scold him when he feeds Brady scraps from the table. He asks about my week and tells me about his. We’ve become so comfortable with each other in such a short amount of time. The arrogant man I met at the park and the harsh man from the club are tucked away beneath this kind, gentle, sexy man beside me.

  “Mmmmm.” Adam bites into the homemade apple crisp, declaring it to be the best he’s ever eaten in his entire life.

  “Well, you know what they say, ‘the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.’” I laugh and then freeze, immediately realizing how that came out. Oh crap! Why did I just say that? He’s probably thinking of any excuse to get up and leave, running as far away from me as he possibly can. I don’t ever want to be that woman. You know the woman who says she’s okay with casual sex, but is secretly hoping the guy will fall in love with her, get married and live happily ever after. I definitely don’t want to be that woman. Brain smirks at Heart.

  I sip my coffee quietly, praying for the awkwardness I’ve created to pass quickly.

  Adam stops chewing, sets his fork down and looks at me. “Is that so?”

  He wipes his mouth with the napkin, his eyes never straying from mine.

  “Are you trying to get to my heart, Miss Delaney?” he asks seriously, although his eyes dance with amusement.

  The cup is taken away from me and placed on the table, freeing my hands completely. The loud scraping noise from his chair as he moves closer makes me wince. Here it comes...the BIG goodbye, the inevitable “I don’t have time or the inclination to date” speech to let me go, ending our arrangement.

  “Come here. Sit with me.” Adam pats his lap, tugging on my hands so I can shift from my chair to his.

  “I’m sorry I said that. I was just trying to be funny.” Ashamed and embarrassed, I hang my head and bury my face in the palm of my hands.

  “Hey, look at me.” Adam waits for me to look at him. “I asked you a question and I’m still waiting for an answer.”

  I wonder if he’s enjoying this torment of seeing me humiliated. I might as well get this over with so I can go back to mending my fragile heart.

  “Look, I know what we agreed to and I really am okay with it, but sometimes, I wonder what it would be like if we could be more.” Why on Earth did I just blurt that out? I am such a damn fool! He starts to speak, but I put my finger up to his lips, silencing him. “Can we just forget about what I said? I don’t want to ruin a good thing. I like spending time with you and I’m not ready for it to end just yet.” I feel his lips move so I press harder. “If this is goodbye, I’ll understand. We’ll keep things cordial at school and it’ll be as if nothing ever happened. Okay?”

  My hand is pulled down from his mouth. “Can I talk now?”

  I nod.

  “First of all, you still haven’t answered my question. Are you trying to get to my heart?” His fingers trace a line down my jaw.

  I wish at this moment that I knew what the right answer was. Am I trying to get to his heart? No! Maybe? Yes…God only knows he’s already in my heart. When I began this “arrangement,” I thought I could handle it, but truth be told, I don’t think I can. I am without a doubt falling in love with Adam.

  “I wasn’t trying to do anything,” I admit honestly.

  “Secondly, I like spending time with you as well, but I’m not that happy anymore with our arrangement.” His face is unreadable as he exhales a deep breath.

  Here it comes…wait for it…wait for it. My body goes into defense mode, ready to bolt out the door.

  “Lastly, I don’t have any plans of saying goodbye o
r letting you go because whether you tried to or not, you have found your way into my heart.”

  Wait, what? He’s not letting me go? He wants to keep me? But he’s not happy with our arrangement, he said so himself. I have his heart? Holy shit! I want to scream out loud.

  Adam gently cradles my face between his hands and kisses me reverently, treating me as something pure and precious. As our tongues begin their slow waltz, hands join in, caressing each other, slowly removing any and all obstacles in our way except his dress pants. The half-eaten dessert abandoned because now we are only hungry for one another.

  I wrap my legs around his slim waist as he carries me quickly up the stairs into my bedroom, wishing that I had finished the task of putting away my summer clothes which are still strewn all over my unmade, rumpled bed. “I’ll never have enough. I’ll never let you go,” Adam’s murmured words of promise and desire invade my ears as he kisses along my throat, sucking and tasting.

  FOR THE FIRST TIME, Adam and I make love. It is more than just “drama free sex” more than a casual encounter. This union is a display of a deeper emotional connection—the joining of his heart with mine. Adam knows my body, my wants, and my needs. His weight on me, his body stretched out against mine is a warm, welcomed blanket in the dead of winter. My hands fist his wavy hair, my eyes memorize the features and angles of his beautiful face while my legs wrap tightly around his body. I need to feel as if we are one. His thrusts are slow and deliberate—he’s giving all he can to me until there is no more to give.

  Sated and weary, I snuggle into the crook of his neck and smile, finding it to be a tiny piece of Heaven on Earth. I inhale his scent. It’s unique, all Adam. It’s the perfect combination of strong masculinity mixed with a hint of earthy cologne. If I could bottle it up, I would. Our labored breathing and pounding hearts resume their natural rhythm, slowing down after we both achieve release.

  And then his phone chirps. I reach down to the floor on my side of the bed to retrieve his phone, handing it to him quickly, but not before I see the name. Adam catches my eye roll, smirks and leans over to kiss my forehead. My eyes roll again. As much as I don’t want to bring up the subject, I know that I have to. It’s an absolute deal breaker. I need to find out the basis of their relationship and I need to know why Gina calls him constantly.

  I watch as he responds quickly to the text, setting the phone down on my nightstand.

  “Can I ask you something?” I ask as I prop myself up on an elbow, tracing circles between his chest hair.

  “Of course,” he replies sweetly.

  “I asked you once about her and, for the most part, I believe you.” I swallow loudly. “Why is she always, and I mean like always, calling or texting you?” I know sound like a jealous person, but what she did to me was unforgivable and I will never trust her. “She could be a problem for me, Adam.”

  Adam pulls me across his chest, our faces inches apart, and then pushes back my wild hair. “Miss Delaney, are you a bit jealous?” He grins.

  Yes! No! “Maybe. A little.”

  He kisses my lips. “There is no reason to be jealous. I want you. Only you.”

  “Okay, but can you explain all the calls and text messages? Even you have to admit, it’s incessant.” I raise my eyebrows to prove my point.

  Adam searches my face, perhaps deciding how to best answer my questions. “I agree with you she does call me a lot and it can be annoying, but it’s not like I can just cut her off entirely. She’s helped me through a lot and she’s great with my kids.” She helped him through a lot? What in the world could Gina have possibly helped him out with? “She’s like family.”

  Oh, for the love of God, go figure. I get involved with someone who’s involved with her. His next whispered words send chills down my spine. “I’ve been part of that family for a long time. They were there for me when no one else was. I owe them a lot.” I swallow hard. The DeGennaros are not a family you want to owe anything to.

  “Are there any other women that I need to be aware of?” Immediately I think of the redhead from the club and the blonde from the bar.

  “No.” He shakes his head quickly. “It’s just you.”

  “How about you? Are there any guys who need an ass kicking?” Dark eyes narrow playfully. “I know I’m just one of your many suitors.”

  I laugh at his response. “Suitors? What are you like 75? ”

  “Nope…31. And don’t change the subject.” His hand reaches down and squeezes my ass, admonishing me.

  “I, unlike, you don’t have a horde of people vying for my attention.”

  “What? Are you insane? Let’s see…there’s Peter.” He looks up like he’s doing a challenging math problem. “There’s what’s his name, the coach, Shane…that lanky, tatted dude from the band, Will…give me a minute, I’m sure I can think of some more.”

  He’s been paying attention and he’s pretty much on target except for Pete. Thank God he doesn’t know about Luis, Max, or Devin. But come to think about it, we can cross Devin’s name off the list—he didn’t want to date me, he just wanted to fuck me.

  “Oh, and don’t you notice all the other dads checking you out when you’re at the park running?” He continues on, shaking his head.

  “You are the insane one.” I lean down to kiss him. “Besides, the only dad I’m interested in is you!”

  Adam tenses immediately beneath me, apprehension mars his face.

  Did I say the wrong thing? Maybe I shouldn’t have brought up the fact that he has children.

  “I wish we had met at a different time or place. Things could be different. If I didn’t have kids…””

  I cut his words off immediately as if he’d spoken blasphemy. “Oh my God! Don’t ever say that!”

  Confusion spreads across his face, trying to gauge my reaction. “Mia, I love my kids. Don’t get me wrong—those kids are my entire world, but I’m more than just their father.” He continues, “But it’s not about me. They are my priority and I would never allow anything or anyone to hurt them again.”

  “I would never hurt them,” I whisper.

  Adam pushes back and pulls me to straddle him. He looks at me with those incredible eyes like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. His thumbs circle my face, my lips, and my eyes slowly before pulling my face down to kiss me.

  “I know you would never hurt them...intentionally.” He smiles warily. “Unlike their mother,” he whispers so quietly I’m not sure I heard him correctly. Their mother hurt them? I wonder if she had been abusive toward them. My heart breaks just thinking about the day Madison proudly displayed her mother’s tattered ballet slippers. It was obvious that Madison loved her mother, how and why would she hurt her children? A mother is supposed to love and protect her children, not harm them.

  “Adam, I’m so sorry,” I sigh.

  Adam’s eyes close and he inhales and exhales. Silence fills the room, time ticks on slowly.

  “I never thought I’d say this, but I love spending time with you.” He searches my face, his words reaching deep into my heart. “I want to spend time with you and not just in your bed. I want to take you places and do things with you. I want to enjoy your company as well as your body.” His eyebrows waggle playfully. “This is what I can give you, Mia. You know my time is limited, but if you’re willing to wait and work around my life, I want to see where this goes. I’m not making any promises, though.” His hands stray to run the length of my hair covering my naked breasts. The smile on my face widens and then falls at his last comment. He’s not making any promises. What’s that supposed to mean?

  “I’d like that very much,” I kiss his lips, answering honestly.

  “I told you once that I won’t share you. I meant that. I don’t want you hanging around Shane or Will. They want what’s mine.”

  Ohhhhh, so I’m his, am I? So then that would make him mine?

  I narrow my eyes and smirk. “One might say that sounds a little bit like a relationship.” My words hang i
n the air, waiting for his response. “You know the whole, ‘you’re mine’ thing,” I air quote. “You think I’m yours, huh? So, I guess that would make you mine, then?” I smirk, my eyebrows expecting an answer. So what about all the late night texts?

  His face is still, displaying no emotion or expression. Finally, a small twitch of his lip gives way to a grin. “Absolutely. You have as much of me as I’m able to give you.”

  And…his phones chirps, interrupting us. AGAIN! I have never felt such animosity toward an inanimate object. I literally want to take a sledgehammer to it.

  We both reach over to the nightstand to retrieve his phone. There is no need for words as I smirk seeing the name “Nora” and hand him the phone. A surge of heat shoots through my body. I recognize this feeling. It’s anxiety. Wordlessly, he takes his phone out of my hand, enters the password, his eyes flashing back to mine, waiting for me to speak. I chew the inside of my cheek so I don’t say something I’ll regret. My chest rises and falls as I take a deep cleansing breath and start to climb off of his lap, but his hand reaches out, holding me in place by my thighs. Two seconds ago, I was riding high on cloud nine and I’ve just crashed landed without warning.

  “I won’t share either,” I say, reminding him of his words earlier. He simply nods and taps out a quick response, then sets the phone down on the bed. I would love to know what he’s thinking at this moment as he stares at me, his eyes blinking thoughtfully until he slaps my ass twice lightly so he can get up.

  The music streaming through the BOSE fills the room with Adam Levine singing about never wanting to leave this bed.

  I grab the fitted sheet and wrap myself up as he gathers his pants, redressing quickly, shoving his phone back in his pocket. I know he has to go and I know he’s doing the best he can. But it still sucks! I wonder briefly what it would be like to make dinner for him, tuck his kids in at night and then crawl into bed with him beside me. A “slap, punch, slap” combo snaps my brain back to reality for even allowing those thoughts to form in my mind.