by Noelle Adams
Adam’s lips parted slightly as he thought about what she’d said. “Yeah. I can see that.”
“But I’m not whining. I really try not to whine.”
“Zoe, don’t be ridiculous. You’re the least whiny person I know.”
“Thanks. I guess.”
There was a stretch of silence. Then finally Adam asked, his tone a little diffident, “So what’s going on?”
Zoe blinked, a knot of anxiety tightening in her gut. “What do you mean?”
“What’s going on? Has something happened?”
She knew—she knew—what he was asking about. She’d been acting differently with him this week. He was a subtle, insightful man. He must have recognized it. “Nothing’s happened.”
“So why are you acting so standoffish with me?”
“I’m not being standoffish. Didn’t we just have dinner?”
“Yeah. After I basically invited myself over.” Adam’s face was calm, just vaguely impatient. “Tell me what’s going on, Zoe. I made a promise to my cousin, and I can’t keep it if you insist on pushing me away.”
“I’m not pushing you away. I’m just making sure we both have enough space.” When his brow lowered, she could tell he didn’t understand. “I just…I just don’t want things to get weird between us.”
“You think things have been weird?”
“No, no. I just don’t want them to get weird.” There was absolutely no way to explain this without admitting things she couldn’t possibly admit. “You know how it sometimes gets between men and women when they’re just friends. And with our relationship, it’s even more important that nothing gets…weird.”
She felt like a fool after she stammered out the explanation, but Adam seemed to understand now what she meant.
He grew very still—almost frozen in a strange way—and he asked slowly, “Do you think I’ve been trying to make a move on you?”
“No!” she said, appalled at the idea. “No, of course not! I know you’re not…I know you don’t…”
Adam picked up the slack when she trailed off, at a loss for words. “I had understood that you thought about me almost like family. Was I wrong?”
“No, you were exactly right. That is how I think about you.” It was. Except for that moment on the sailboat last weekend—that was precisely how Zoe had thought about Adam for the last three months.
“So, if we both understand that, why would things get weird?”
The way he asked the question was so obvious, so matter-of-fact, that Zoe suddenly felt silly about her anxiety. He must be right. They were like family. And just because she had the passing acknowledgment that he was an attractive, virile man didn’t meant that anything in their relationship necessarily had to change.
Her cheeks grew a little red at the knowledge that she might have overreacted. “I guess they wouldn’t. I’m not sure what I was worried about.”
“Are you not comfortable with my place in yours and Logan’s life?” Adam asked, his face careful, his tone still rather diffident.
“No! It’s good. I mean, I’m glad you’re a part of our life. I’m sorry. I guess I just…” She hated that she kept leaving so many unfinished sentences, but she couldn’t possibly explain things, couldn’t possibly make Adam understand her conviction that she needed to keep a little more distance from him.
At the moment, she couldn’t even understand it herself.
“You just what?” Adam prompted, still sitting rather stiffly, more motionless than he normally was.
She supposed he felt as uncomfortable as she did with this bizarre conversation.
“I’m a mess,” she finally said, rubbing her face. “Emotionally, I mean. It’s so hard to try to start my life again with Josh gone. And you’re all wrapped up in that confusion for me, so I guess I wasn’t thinking as clearly as I should. I do want you in my life. And definitely in Logan’s. I’m sorry.”
Adam released a breath. Although there wasn’t any obvious evidence in his body, something seemed to have relaxed inside him. “Good. If you’re sure.”
“I am. I’m sorry.” They both sat in silence for a minute, and the only sound in the room was Logan chatting happily and incomprehensibly to his blocks. Then finally Zoe asked, “You don’t think I’m taking advantage of you, do you?”
“What?” Adam’s face wasn’t frozen and unreadable anymore. It reflected palpable shock. “How would you have taken advantage of me?”
“I don’t know. I was just wondering. You’ve really helped me to get through these last months, and I feel like I was relying on you too much for…for help and company, so I wouldn’t miss Josh so much. I just started to get worried about it.”
The shock on Adam’s face slowly transformed into focused concentration. He stared at her for a long time, appearing to begin speaking several times before he actually did.
When he spoke at last, it wasn’t what she was expecting. “You haven’t taken advantage of me any more than I’ve taken advantage of you.”
“What do you mean?”
He gave a half-shrug. At first, she thought the vague gesture would be his response, but eventually he muttered a few words. “I’ve missed him too.”
It wasn’t much of an answer, but it was enough. Zoe understood. She might have been depending on him a lot for the last few months, but he’d been depending on her too.
And that was actually nice to know. What they had provided each other wasn’t one-sided.
She still believed she’d been trying to fit him into a neat little box in her mind—making him what she needed rather than what he truly was—but she could work on that. She could do better.
They were friends. They were like family. And she didn’t have to pull back. It wasn’t like she was going to start to think about him lustfully or romantically or inappropriately. A passing thought was simply that.
A passing thought.
“Sorry if I was being silly,” she said, giving him a sheepish smile.
He gave another shrug—this one paired with an uplift of his mouth. “So we’re good?”
“Yeah.” Her smile brightened as she realized all the awkwardness could be over now. “We’re good.”
He nodded, a look she recognized as satisfaction on his face.
“So how was the ballet?” she asked, deciding she could now legitimately change the subject to something lighter.
“Good. It was good.”
“And your date? How did that go?” She gave him a teasing smile, deciding that this would be a good way to treat him like a whole man and also get past that brief weirdness she’d felt on the boat. If they were really friends, then she could ask him about his dating life. “Was this the first time you’d gone out with her?”
“Yes. It was fine.”
“Who is she? What is she like?”
Adam let out a breath and gave her a resigned look. “She’s the daughter of a business acquaintance of mine. She’s a nice girl.”
Zoe rolled her eyes, a little annoyed but not surprised by his reticence to share. “How old is she?”
“In her twenties.”
“Where exactly in her twenties?”
He didn’t answer.
“I guess that means she’s pretty young. Does she know how aged you are?” She let out a teasing laugh when she saw his look of exaggerated impatience. “All right,” she went on, her voice rippling with amusement. “Assuming she knows, do you think you’ll ask her out again?”
“Am I to understand that my social life is now something else for which I may be mocked by you?”
“Not mocked!” she corrected, leaning over to pat him fondly on the knee. “Teased. Remember the difference.”
Adam slouched down in the leather chair. “Mocking and teasing feel remarkably similar to me. What exactly is the difference?”
“You tease people you like.”
Her answer seemed to surprise him because his wry expression transformed suddenly into a smile. She smiled back. A look o
f warmth and understanding passed between them that settled something uncertain in her heart.
They both jerked in surprise when Logan, who’d rediscovered his Wheely Bug, wobbled over and ended up crashing it into Adam’s feet. Logan stared up at Adam in indignation.
“My apologies if my feet were in the way. Although, in all honesty, you’re the one who crashed into me,” Adam said gravely.
Logan babbled a response, starting with “Buga Buga”—his word for his Wheely Bug—and ending with “Lala.”
Adam nodded. “I see. I will endeavor to place my feet more considerately in the future.”
While obviously Logan couldn’t have understood much of what Adam had said, something in his uncle’s expression must have pleased him. Because he gave Adam’s knee a quick, tight hug.
Zoe had been chuckling over the little altercation, but she caught a brief flicker of response in Adam’s eyes before it was hidden behind a layer of composure.
The flicker of expression surprised her. And touched her deeply.
It seemed incredible to her—absolutely incomprehensible—that Adam Peterson, favored son of a privileged family, king of a trivia game empire, with a brilliant mind that left other minds in the dust, should love her wobbly ten-month-old son.
But she knew without doubt that he did.
***
Zoe stared down at her rings.
She’d been getting ready for bed that night, feeling restless and at loose ends, when she happened to glance down at her left hand and noticed them there—the diamond engagement ring and her gold wedding band.
The sight made her feel heavy, kind of sick.
It had been over four months. It was probably time for her to take them off.
With a shaky breath, she slipped off the rings, one after the other. Then she went to the desk and found the little leather box that Josh had kept with random tokens of his feelings for her.
She put the rings in the box. Stared down at the way they gleamed in the artificial light for a minute.
Then she made herself shut the box and stick it back in the desk drawer.
She felt heavier, sicker, when she walked into the bedroom, checked to make sure Logan was still sleeping, and then crawled into bed.
She lay awake for a long time.
After about an hour, she sat up in a rush, almost choking as sobs rose up in her chest, in her throat.
She stumbled out of bed and ran out of the bedroom and over to the desk. Then she yanked open the desk drawer. Grabbed the leather box.
Fumbled in the dark until she laid her hand on the rings.
Tears streamed down her cheeks—there was no way she could stop them—but she could breathe again when she slipped the rings back on.
Seven
“Are you sure you’re going to be all right?” Zoe asked, with just a trace of anxiety.
Adam gave her a faintly impatient look. “Of course, we’ll be all right. Logan knows me. And you’re just going to be gone for a few hours. I’m sure I’ll manage to muddle through the babysitting duties.”
She snickered at the irony in his tone as she checked and rechecked the little bowls of food and the sippy cups she’d prepared for Logan earlier. “Everything he needs for supper is right here.”
“I know that. You’ve already rehearsed his schedule with me, Zoe. We’ll be fine.”
She tried to be reasonable and not go over for a third time everything Adam needed to know for an evening with Logan. She’d left Logan with babysitters before but, for some reason, leaving Logan with Adam made her a lot more nervous.
She never would have asked Adam to stay with Logan while she went to a friend’s birthday party. Zoe had simply mentioned her plans, and he’d volunteered himself for the evening.
Zoe had accepted, of course. She and Adam had been getting along well for the last several weeks, ever since their conversation about their relationship that had cleared the air and eased her concerns. She figured Adam wanted to spend some more time with his nephew, but the idea made her anxious for reasons she couldn’t really pinpoint.
She wasn’t sure if she was more anxious for Logan or for Adam.
“Right,” she said, in response to his pointed assurance. “I know you’ll be fine. You know where the diapers are, right? And I pulled out his favorite toys, so you wouldn’t have trouble finding something to entertain him. He usually goes to sleep—"
“Zoe,” Adam interrupted, arching his eyebrows with an expression she recognized as half-amusement, half-frustration, “I know all of this. And you also wrote it all down for me. Are you really so nervous about leaving him with me?”
“I know you’ll take good care of him. That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“So what are you worried about?”
“I just want you both to have a good time.”
“We’ll do our best.” He stepped over to where Logan was sitting in his highchair, playing with his steering wheel. Adam ruffled the boy’s soft, brown hair. “You and your friends have a good time this evening.”
“Thanks.” She reached over and squeezed Adam’s forearm and then walked over to check herself out in the framed mirror in the entryway.
She wore a deep-blue, sleeveless shift dress, a cashmere wrap, and new shoes—patent leather Mary Janes in a flesh color with four-inch heels and contrast-piping trim, the first pair of shoes she’d bought in months. She’d put her hair up in a French twist and wore the pearl and platinum jewelry Josh had given her on their third anniversary. For the first time in ages, she actually felt pretty.
“You look great,” Adam said, as if he’d read her mind.
She whirled around and was shocked to feel her cheeks grow hot. “Thanks. It’s kind of fun to dress up again.”
“You should do it more often.”
There was an odd resonance to his voice that she couldn’t quite interpret, but she realized he was trying to be friendly and encourage her. So she smiled at him appreciatively, giving herself a silent lecture over how silly it was to feel so self-conscious over nothing.
Then she picked up her purse. “I’ll have my phone on vibrate, if you need to contact me about anything.”
Adam rolled his eyes and gestured her out of her own apartment. With a teasing grin, she kissed Logan and told him to have fun with Uncle Lala. This earned her a happy giggle from Logan and an under-the-breath mutter from Adam.
Zoe was still laughing when she walked out the door.
* * *
It was almost midnight when she returned.
She’d had a good time, and Adam hadn’t called at all, so she was hoping things had gone fine on the home front.
She was quiet as she entered her apartment, assuming Logan would be asleep. The first things she saw were Logan’s big blocks littering the entryway. She smiled, picturing Logan and Adam playing blocks on the floor in front of the door.
She put her purse and keys down on the entry table and then glanced into the kitchen on her right. Her eyebrows shot up when she saw how messy it was. Logan’s plastic bowls were scattered over the counter, most of them filled with uneaten food. There were Cheerios on the floor, some flung as far as the laundry closet. And there was a half-eaten sandwich next to the refrigerator that had obviously belonged to Adam.
Zoe’s stomach dropped a little. Adam was just not a slob. In fact, he was rather meticulous about picking up after himself. He wouldn’t have left a mess like this in the kitchen unless he was under considerable stress.
Logan must have been bad.
She checked the trash can and saw more evidence of this—quite a few paper towels that had obviously been used to clean up Logan’s food. Zoe knew very well that, in the midst of his rare but tumultuous temper-fits, Logan would throw his food all over the floor.
With a sigh, Zoe walked out into the living area, ready to apologize to Adam for her son’s misbehavior.
She jerked to a dead stop in the middle of the floor when her eyes landed on the sofa.
He was lying on top of Adam, who was stretched out on the sofa in wrinkled trousers and a food-stained shirt.
Adam was as sound asleep as Logan was.
Her chest ached at the sight, and she stared speechlessly for a long moment.
Even as she’d gotten to know and like Adam better, she always thought of him as ultra-competent at everything he did. She’d never seen him fail to do something well. She’d never seen him with his guard completely let down. She’d never seen him sleep.
For some reason, seeing him now was disorienting and unsettling—as much as that moment in the boat had been for her, but in a different way.
His face and body were as attractive and masculine as ever as he sprawled there. But his chest rose and fell with his slow breathing, and his face looked unusually relaxed—almost innocent, if that word could ever be applied to a man with as many layers as he had.
And her son was asleep on top of him.
Zoe slipped off her heels, since they made a lot of noise on the hardwood floors, and she walked silently into her bedroom. There, she found more evidence of the troubles Adam and Logan had this evening. Toys were scattered around—in what Zoe imagined were various failed attempts to entertain the little boy—and a ball that must have been thrown by Logan had knocked over some framed pictures on the dresser.
Shaking her head, Zoe picked up the toys and pictures and put them in their proper places. Then she went back into the kitchen and entryway to pick up there too. She tried to be as quiet as she could—strangely reluctant to wake up Adam—but when she returned to the living room and leaned over to pick up one of Logan’s sippy cups that had rolled next to the sofa, she saw Adam begin to stir.
She tried to straighten up and move away, so she wasn’t hovering on top of him when he woke up, but she didn’t move fast enough. Her eyes met his as she was bent at the waist and reaching down for the cup, her head less than a foot from his.
To her surprise, he smiled at her, an uncharacteristic fondness softening his eyes and his expression. He obviously wasn’t fully awake, and none of his normal defenses were up.
