by Mary Whitney
Afterward, I asked, “Are you as sick of your parents as I am of mine?”
“More. Traveling with them wears you down. But at least they’re both going to bed before long.” He sighed. “Sylvia, on the other hand…”
He had to have had a premonition of her because her voice rang from behind us: “Nicki!” Then in annoyance, she called, “Adam, can you bring her indoors?”
After kissing my forehead, he grumbled, “Yes, Sylvia.”
We walked inside and talked a bit with his parents and Sylvia about their trip and my trips to Baton Rouge and Chicago. It wasn’t long, though, before his parents and even Sylvia wandered upstairs, leaving us alone in the family room. But in one minute, she came bounding back down the stairs.
“I have a present for you, Nicki!”
“Oh, thanks. But you didn’t have to do that.” I glanced over to Adam, looking for him to confirm what I was about to say. “I haven’t really been celebrating Christmas this year. I’m sorry I don’t have a gift for you.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered in my ear. “I told her not to, but she did anyway.”
Sylvia heard what he’d said and scoffed, “Since when do I listen to you?”
With that, she handed me a perfectly wrapped box with a gorgeous bow of different satin ribbons. I was impressed. “Wow. The box alone could be a present; it’s so pretty.”
“Thanks. I’m glad you like it.” She stood a little straighter with pride. “I did it myself.”
Adam made a face like he was going to puke. “Can you leave now?”
“Not till Nicki opens her gift.”
I opened the present as best I could without destroying the decorations. Sitting inside the tissue paper was a beautiful black woolen scarf with a modern silk patchwork design on it. It looked like stained glass. “Sylvia. Thank you so much!”
She raised her eyebrow to Adam. “See. I told you she’d love it. I know these things.”
Wrapping it around my neck, I traced the intricate design. “It’s really cool.”
“I bought it when we went to London.”
“Well, I do love it.” I gave her a hug. “Thanks. Let’s go to dinner sometime so I can thank you.”
Sylvia’s eyes popped open. “Oh, really? That will be fun!” She turned to Adam and smiled. “I’ll leave you two alone now.” She gave me one more hug, and I wished her goodnight before she pranced up the stairs.
“I like her,” I said, taking off the scarf.
Adam rolled his eyes but quickly pulled me to him. “I like you.”
We ended up in his den again, and he put in a random Hitchcock movie that his parents had lying around. It wasn’t like we were going to watch it; the movie was just an alibi.
I’d only seen the FBI warning before we were all over one another. For one brief moment, I thought maybe I should actually talk with him first to find out what had happened with Kate. But somehow I had a feeling that everything was okay, and frankly, I didn’t want to talk. I just wanted to keep kissing him and feeling his hands on me and mine on him.
Adam was the one to pull away, though. He smiled. “I actually have a little present for you as well, but Sylvia kind of spoiled it with hers.”
“But you already gave me a gift, and I haven’t given you anything at all.”
Reaching over to the side table, he picked up a small, soft package that was wrapped in white tissue paper. “It’s not a big thing. Just a souvenir from England.”
I took the parcel from him and opened it up. I laughed as a red and white wool scarf fell out. It had “Liverpool” written on it and a logo with a shield—just like the scarf he had in his room. “You want me to be a Liverpool football fan?”
“Normally, I’d say you couldn’t be prettier,” he said, wrapping the scarf around my neck. “But this scarf just might do it.”
“Thank you, I guess.” I giggled.
His expression softened to a more thoughtful one. “You’re welcome. I just wanted you to have something from home.” He looked aside and added, “For when I’m not here.”
I swallowed hard. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about that.”
“I don’t want to,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t think it will do us any good. I just thought about things a lot whilst I was away.”
I nodded. I had, too. About him. About me. About Lauren. If I wanted to think, I had a lot to think about, but thinking got tiring. That was one of the reasons that I loved just being with him. I didn’t have to think so much.
He pulled me tight to him and began to speak. “The first night at home, I was sitting watching TV with Mum. She mentioned it was good to be home, and I agreed. Then she said, ‘But you miss Nicki.’ I asked her how she knew, and she said she could just tell. Plus, I was clutching a cushion.”
“She is a psychologist.”
“Exactly. Anyway, she likes you—a lot. She said she understood how we’d got so close so fast. She didn’t say anything more. I guess the good side of her being a counselor is that she’s not very judgmental.” His smile soon turned to a frown. “My dad, though. He’s a scientist, and he’s quick to judge. He also has a different background than my mum. He likes you and everything, but he sat me down and warned me about getting too serious with you.”
I knew it. I just knew it. With some trepidation, I asked, “Because?”
“Because we live in different countries.”
“Anything else?”
“Oh, he just has these ideas about the type of girls I should be with.”
My back automatically stiffened. Proper English girls. Hoping my bitterness wasn’t on display, I asked, “And?”
“And it doesn’t change anything.” He kissed my forehead in reassurance. “I’m not going to stop going out with you.”
I felt some relief and exhaled. “I got a couple of those talks from my parents, too.”
“I expected as much.” He added with some chagrin, “I’m not a very desirable suitor.”
“I still like you.”
Leaning in for a kiss, he declared, “I more than simply like you, Nicole Johnson.”
That made me tackle him. If we were going to do some kind of Romeo and Juliet thing and defy our parents, I was all for it. Any questions I had about Kate escaped me entirely. I clung to him and kissed him hard. I thought he was as into it as I was, but he pulled away again.
“There’s something else I need to tell you.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, I saw Kate.”
“Oh.” My heart had to have stopped. Something bad was coming. My thoughts raced backward for a moment to think about how he’d acted with me since he’d gotten home. He wouldn’t make out with me repeatedly, say all those adorable things, and then tell me he cheated on me, would he? That would be so shitty and really not like him.
“I saw her twice, actually. The first time we went out to dinner—just as I told you we would. It was good to see her. We caught up. She asked me questions about you first, but I could tell she bloody well didn’t like hearing about you. I think she saw how I feel about you. She had just broken up with that guy she’d been dating and was pretty naffed off.”
I didn’t like what I was hearing. Weeping ex-girlfriends were very dangerous things. I tried to ferret out the issue Adam was obviously dancing around. “So she cried on your shoulder, and then what happened?”
“Nothing.” He shrugged. “I hugged her goodnight. That was it. Then I saw her again when a group of us went out on our last night. I didn’t expect to see her at the pub, but she showed up with another friend.”
A bar. Drinking beer. An ex-girlfriend who wants him back. My eyes must have had terror in them. Adam noticed. “It’s okay. Nothing really happened. Kate just got smashed, and I had to pull her off me. She demanded I take her home, but there was no way I was doing that. So David made sure she got back.”
I stared at him for a moment without saying anything, just thinking about the phrase “had to p
ull her off me.” Did that mean she’d tried to kiss him? Or did it mean they actually had kissed? Or more? Did I want to know? No, I didn’t want to know…I felt nauseated…my stomach felt like it had turned inside out…but I had to know.
I ventured, “So, when she was all over you…what exactly happened?”
His eyes told me that he comprehended exactly what I was asking. He didn’t flinch. “I said no. I didn’t touch her.”
I nodded. There was no need to clarify what he’d said no to—Kate had wanted to have sex. Still, she might have touched him—might have tried to kiss him. I still looked at him warily. “Is that it?”
He played with my hair. “Yes, that’s it. I suppose most guys wouldn’t have told you, but I…I don’t know. I felt like if I didn’t, I would be misleading you somehow.”
Smiling in relief, I touched his hair as he did mine. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“Oh, I forgot. There was something else.” He grinned mischievously.
“What’s that?”
“David says hello.”
He knew he was being a smug little jerk, so I punched him in the arm. “I think you’re being a wanker, right? That’s what they call people like you in your country?”
“That’s right. But he still says hi. And he’s glad you followed his advice.”
I smiled at the thought of what that conversation had been like between the two of them. “I should thank him for it one day.”
“Better not thank him too much,” he said.
“Pfft. Don’t be silly.”
“So, can we go back to our previous topic?”
I laughed at him. “What topic? We weren’t talking. We were kissing.”
“I know. Let’s start that again.”
We messed around for another hour—as best as we could on a couch with his family upstairs. Later, things were quiet between us as he drove me home. I figured it was just because he was so tired.
So when he stopped the car and turned off the engine at a random street corner, I was surprised. He grinned at me and demanded, “We should get out.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see.”
Thinking he was up to something very odd, I opened the door and got out. “It’s starting to rain. Why are we out here?”
With the same goofy grin, Adam came around the car and took my hand. “So, do you know where we are?”
I looked around. What in the world? I pointed to the street sign over his head.
“This is where you told me to sod off a few months ago.”
“I guess that’s right.” I squeezed his hand. “Sorry about that.”
“So, I thought this might be a good place to say something I’ve been thinking about.”
My eyes widened, and my heart sped. Before I could think my next thought, he grabbed my other hand.
“I love you, Nicki. Truly, I do. I know that it hasn’t been that long that we’ve been together, but I can’t help it. You’re so special to me—more special than anyone I’ve ever known.”
My racing heart stopped. There was nothing else I wanted to say but exactly what I felt at that moment.
“I love you, too.”
Then we both had goofy grins and leaned into a kiss that was full and warm. I pressed myself against him as firmly as I could, but still not as close as my heart wanted. Everything became fiery between our bodies until a car came down the street.
We stepped apart, and Adam gave me a peck on the cheek, saying, “I’m feeling much better than the last time I was here with you.”
“Well, I know I certainly am.” I giggled.
When I got home, I was relieved Mom was already down for the night. I didn’t want to talk to her; I needed to think. After closing the door to my bedroom, I leaned against it. Had Adam Kincaid really told me he loved me? I thought about it all objectively, and it really seemed so unlikely that he would ever feel that way about me. Yet, I’d been there. He’d said it on the street corner and again on my doorstep.
I was elated, but I wasn’t bursting to tell anyone. I wanted to keep it to myself. It was something I wanted to cherish a bit just for me.
Chapter 22
IT WAS BOUND TO HAPPEN, even in a high school as large as Bellaire. Eventually, Adam and I would run into Meredith.
Nothing was really different that Monday morning in front of our lockers. Adam was trying to make up for teasing me by nuzzling my neck. Then Meredith walked by with her new boyfriend, Jared. Jared played basketball and towered over the school. He appeared to be telling her a story, but she wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at me.
It would’ve been rude not to acknowledge her, especially since I hadn’t seen her in weeks, so I was friendly. “Hi, Meredith.”
Nodding, but with no smile, she said, “Hi…and hi, Adam.”
He glanced up and greeted them both as they continued walking by us. “Morning, Meredith…Jared.”
When he looked back at me, he appeared bothered by the exchange, so I asked, “Was that bad?”
“I couldn’t care less.” He shrugged before a smile returned to his face, and he leaned back into my neck. “Now, where was I?”
That afternoon, Adam and I were enjoying some hot and heavy dry humping on my couch. All the thrusting and rubbing made me wonder if it bore any similarity to actual intercourse—it felt pretty darn good.
When we finished our daily messing around, we got our clothes situated just in case Mom found her way home early. That morning’s encounter with Meredith also still lingered in the back of my mind. I wanted to ask a question that had been bugging me for so long.
I went about it in a roundabout way. “So, what do you think of Meredith and Jared?”
“I don’t know. Good for her.” He shook his head and sighed. “I didn’t really treat her very well, so I hope Jared does.”
“What do you mean?”
“I stayed with her when I shouldn’t have…maybe out of guilt.” Then he looked at me sideways. “And because you wouldn’t give me the time of day.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, right.” Then I probed further, “But what do you mean by guilt?”
His eyes went up to the ceiling. “Things went badly with Meredith. I’ll never let that happen with you.”
“You don’t have to give me details.” The thought of specifics made me want to puke, and yet I was curious. “I probably wouldn’t want them anyway, but what do you mean?”
Adam glanced at me for a moment, obviously deciding what to say, but he soon cut to the chase. “Meredith and I should never have had sex, mainly because I wasn’t that into her. We never clicked; I carried on seeing her only because things were easy with her. Then this one night we were both drunk—you’ve never seen me that way before. She was the one who started it, and the way she was with me…I never thought for once that she was a virgin, for God’s sake; otherwise, I’d like to think things wouldn’t have gone so far.” He grimaced and continued with the question that answered itself. “But who knows?”
Gone so far? Like gotten out of hand? I’d heard that before. “That doesn’t seem so bad…I mean…not unusual.” Remembering what had happened between him and Kate at Christmas, I thought to myself, After all, girls seem to throw themselves at you all the time.
Adam frowned. He seemed to choose his words very carefully as he agreed, “I suppose it’s an old story. The problems came later when we continued going out even though I didn’t feel anything for her any more. In fact, I liked her less and less.” He brushed the hair away from my face. “I was falling for you, and I was too fucking daft to realize it.”
So that was it. He’d never loved her, but she had loved him. Stupid Meredith must have said she loved him, but he’d never said it back and continued to fuck her because that’s what guys do.
Still sounding sad, he said, “I’m sorry it took so bloody long for me to sort things out. We could’ve had more time together.”
Time. Right. The thing we didn’t have a lot
of. As usual, I ignored it. “Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t ready for anything anyway.”
He leaned and gave me a peck. “I love you.” And as if to lighten the moment, he poked me in my side. “It wouldn’t be like that with you.”
“Oh really?” I laughed. “How would it be?”
“It would be fantastic,” he said with eagerness and, with a gasp of breath, added, “I can’t think of anything better.”
Really not knowing how to respond to that declaration, I kissed him and didn’t let it stop. I’d never had intercourse before, but if sex with Adam was going to be anything like kissing him, it probably would be fantastic.
I wondered if I should tell him that I’d started taking the pill, but it seemed kind of goofy. I didn’t want to have sex right then, and it wouldn’t be effective for a few weeks anyway. I also didn’t think I could handle any kind of planning for our first time—too much pressure.
Eventually, I replied with what summed everything up: “I love you, Adam.”
For the rest of the week, we saw each other every afternoon.
One day at his house, he gave me a hard look, though his voice was casual. “You know, I read Catcher in the Rye whilst I was away.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you going to be okay reading it?”
“Yes…I told you I read it years ago.”
“Nicki, it’s about—”
“It’s about a depressed teenage guy. I remember he gets kicked out of school and ends up with a prostitute and eventually in a mental hospital.”
“Yes, but what is Holden depressed about?”
My eyes got wide. I’d forgotten about Allie, Holden’s dead little brother. I frowned. “Oh. I hadn’t really thought about that part.”
“How could you not remember it?”
I didn’t say anything as the book came back to me—and not just the mentally unstable, sexually frustrated, and parentally neglected Holden Caulfield. Uh oh. Some similarities there. I also remembered Allie Caulfield, the younger brother who Holden couldn’t get over.
Looking away for a moment, I at last stated emphatically, “I’m not Holden Caulfield.”
