The twins stayed in their rooms most of Sunday, and when they did emerge they managed to avoid each other and me.
Because I was going stir crazy and it was clear neither of them were going to cook, in the late afternoon I grabbed the cane Deacon had given me and used it to hobble around the kitchen. I suspected he and Adam would have a fit if they knew, but they weren’t here.
The thought ached in my chest and my brain shouted back that I shouldn’t care.
But I did. I missed their company. I missed what had been happening with Adam.
I shouldn’t be missing the same from Deacon, but I did. Not that anything had been happening there.
I needed to not think about him. Instead, I made the twins’ favorite—boxed mac and cheese mixed with a can of tortilla soup and crumbled up corn chips on top. It may not be gourmet, but it was easy and hopefully it would lure them out of their rooms.
Paige came down for dinner, but Bryan refused to.
She filled up her plate without a word and shoveled food into her mouth.
“You’re both worrying me. You know that, don’t you? Don’t make me play the Mom Guilt Trip card.” I ate more slowly.
She huffed and let her fork clatter to the table. “Please don’t. I already have enough guilt for a lifetime.”
That was a heavy burden to carry at seventeen. “Maybe telling me what happened will help with that?”
“I doubt it.” She sighed heavily. “Bryan is upset with me because…” She huffed, and shoved more food into her mouth.
“Because why?” I kept my tone gentle. It was hard to imagine Paige doing anything to make her brother this mad.
“Because I guess he likes Jamie and he was going to tell her at the dance but apparently she likes me instead.”
Oh. I was going to assume like meant more in both cases. Should I have been prepared for my kids’ first huge fight to be over a shared love interest? “Okay.” I voice my tone free of judgment.
“She kissed me, Mom. She fucking kissed me, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it.” Paige sounded distraught.
“Do you like her?”
“She’s my best friend, of course I do. But I like guys.”
My experience with this was limited to when Colin came out, and that was decades ago, and he’d seemed so certain when he made the announcement. Did he deal with this kind of doubt before then? Not that it mattered now. I needed to reassure Paige and I didn’t know how. “Can you tell her that?”
“But I liked the kiss.”
Whatever I said next, I was going to fail. I just knew it. “Maybe you like girls too. Your uncle Colin—”
“This isn’t about him. You don’t understand.” She pushed back from the table so hard her chair screeched against the tile, and she stomped from the room. “And don’t you dare ask him to talk to me.” Her screech from upstairs was laced with tears.
Damn it.
* * *
Monday morning Bryan left for school early with a friend, and Paige slunk out of the house soon after, refusing to talk to or even look at me.
And I was in for a day of staying off my feet. Carly had sent me more books, but reading them reminded me of a kind of passion I’d had so briefly and then lost. Both in the past and now, even though it was two different kinds of passion.
I missed Adam’s company. I didn’t know how to help my kids. I missed hanging out with Deacon.
Maybe TV would help distract me. It was rare for me to just sit and watch, especially during the day, but losing myself in someone else’s drama might remind me that mine wasn’t so bad.
Every commercial seemed intent on reminding me that today was Valentine’s Day. That I should be celebrating love. That if I didn’t get and give fancy presents, I wasn’t loved. I’d been sans-Valentine for years. Why did the reminder hurt so much today?
Because I was having sex with a man who didn’t want anything else. I wasn’t supposed to be falling for him, but I might be. And at the same time I was absolutely enthralled with his best friend. For the first time in years I thought I might have more with someone…
I should’ve known better, but my heart ached regardless. The TV played in the background. Who were Harmony and Spencer? Where were Luke and Laura? How freaking old was I?
The doorbell rang and I grabbed my phone to see the cam. The sight of Adam standing on my front porch made my heart leap into my throat then plummet into my shoes. It was tempting to tell him to come in, but I didn’t trust myself to not do something stupid once he was in here.
That didn’t mean I could stand to send him away or stop watching him.
“I’m pretty sure you’re in there,” Adam said. “And if you don’t want to see me, I get it. But I’d really like to see you.”
Me too. The reply lodged in my throat.
He held up two plastic bags. “I bought lunch and Valentine’s Day gifts.”
“You don’t have to bring me presents in order to visit.” I winced as the words slipped past my lips.
He smirked at the camera. “I know. I’m awesome all by myself.”
I smiled in spite of myself. Letting him in would be so easy, and those words meant so much more than it seemed like on the surface. “What about Deacon?”
“What about him? You were right—this is about you and me.”
I hovered my finger over the button that would unlock the door.
“Okay, I was prepared for this,” Adam said. On my phone screen he set down the bags he was carrying, and pulled his phone from his pocket. A moment later, the tinny strains of Careless Whisper flitted through my door and phone speaker, half a second out of sync with each other.
“What are you doing?” I laughed.
“Boom boxing WHAM! outside your house, a la Deadpool.”
How was I supposed to ignore a grand gesture like this? “I guess you can come in.” The offer may have sounded casual but my heart was fluttering in my chest.
Adam strode through the front door, set everything on the table, and knelt on the floor next to where I sat on the couch. He cradled my face in his hands, searching my face. The way he pressed his lips to mine was tender enough it made my heart ache all over again, but an intensity flowed between us that stole my breath and made me want to linger here forever.
He pressed his lips to my forehead, then rested his forehead in the same spot against mine, never letting go of my face. “I don’t know what this is, but I know I enjoy your company so much, and I want more of you. Let’s see where this goes. Be my Valentine?”
Saying yes seemed like a big mistake.
Saying no wasn’t an option, though. “Yes. I’d love to.”
“Perfect.” Adam stood. “Lunch first or dessert?”
“Dessert.” That was my default answer when he was around.
He reached into one of the bags, and pulled out an egg carton. My curiosity turned to delight when he plucked out a large chocolate covered strawberry. “Open up.” He pressed the sweet to my lips.
I tried to delicately bite into it, and the moment the chocolate hit my lips, I knew I’d failed. Bits of candy crumbled and juice dribbled down my chin. I squealed in surprise and failed to keep from making a mess.
Adam leaned in and licked my chin clean. I wasn’t sure if I should giggle or moan.
We managed to make it through one strawberry, but I was pretty sure we lost a quarter of the chocolate in the couch cushions. That was going to be a pain to clean up.
Not that I cared while Adam was running his mouth over mine and letting me suck his fingers clean.
We decided to save the rest of the dessert for later, though.
He settled next to me on the couch, and pulled me into his lap. How was this so easy?
“My first Valentine—” I snapped my jaw shut in horror as the words rushed past my lips. Was I really about to ruin this amazing moment by bringing up that part of my past? “Never mind.”
“What’s wrong?”
I shook my head. “You don’t want to hear me talk about my deceased husband.”
“Is it a good memory?”
I expected him to say you’re right or change the subject or anything besides prodding for more. But the way Adam kept his hands wrapped loosely around my waist, and his casual tone, said he was genuinely interested.
“They’re bittersweet,” I said. “But there’s an emphasis on the sweet.”
Adam squeezed my hip. “I know you didn’t pop into existence two weeks ago just for me. I won’t be upset that you loved someone else as long as you don’t expect me to be him.”
I’d be more upset if Adam started acting like anyone other than himself. “I don’t.”
“Then tell me. Your first Valentine.”
I nudged the edge of the memory, not sure I wanted to tug it loose. When the pain I expected didn’t pulse in my heart, I dared unwrap the images. “He brought me daisies from the neighbor’s yard, and drew me a comic strip of us going on a date.”
“Was he an artist?”
Both of us had been discouraged from touching our more creative sides. That wasn’t how people earned a living as adults. “Only casually. But he had a natural talent for it.”
“He sounds like a good guy. Not that you’d love anyone who wasn’t.” Adam’s tone was kind and sincere.
This was a bit surreal, but at the same time it was incredible. Sitting on the lap of a younger, gorgeous man, and talking about my husband as if it were the most natural subject.
“What about you? Do you have a good Valentine’s Day story?” Was I sure I wanted to ask that? I may not be able to tug up the pleasantness as easily as Adam did, especially if he had some tale about an ex he’d had amazing, kinky, all-night sex with. The kind of evening I didn’t even know enough about to imagine.
Though, my mind was trying.
“Today pretty much tops my list.” Adam’s words were sweet, but I wasn’t sure I bought it.
“We made a mess eating fruit and now we’re stuck on my couch because I have a twisted ankle.”
He nuzzled my hair. “It’s not the what, it’s the who. Though, the what is pretty good too.”
“And that’s it? No other Valentine’s Day compares?” Why was I pushing this?
“You don’t want to hear about the other one.”
Uncertainty clenched in my gut. Maybe he was right. “You just listened to me, of course I do. I already know you’ve been with other people,” I said.
“But this story is about Deacon.”
Oh. The man I shouldn’t be missing. The one who didn’t matter beyond being a casual friend, because I was cuddling with his best friend and enjoying the hell out of it.
Adam traced his thumb lightly along my skin, above the waistband of my sweats. “You can take the question back, if you’d like.”
“I absolutely cannot. I’d like to know.” Partly out of curiosity, and because it was polite to listen, and at least as much because I was more of a masochist than I realized. I needed to know more about how the two of them fit together.
Adam let out a laugh-sigh. “So, I’d lost my father about six months earlier, and my girlfriend walked away from me shortly after that because…” His whole body seemed to deflate beneath me when he sighed. “I didn’t deal well with his passing.”
“I’m sorry.” I hated to hear his pain, and there had to be more than he was showing. “But we all deal with loss in our own ways. Who was she to judge?”
He shrugged. “We find out who people are when things are at their worst. But that’s just backstory so you understand—Deacon was there for me. And that Valentine’s Day he shut the shop early, cleared a huge space in the back room, and we spent the rest of the day watching ninja movies and monster movies that were so bad they were good. He told me the point was no calendar or person got to tell us when or what to feel.”
“Which is why I would’ve been on your porch this morning, doing exactly what I did, regardless of if today was Valentine’s Day or some random Wednesday in August,” Adam said.
And that was about the sweetest story ever, tied up with the sweetest sentiment. “I’m glad you did. I’m glad you’re here.”
He pressed his lips to my forehead. “Me too.”
We talked about so many little things. The kinds of conversation most people never wanted to overhear because it would be dry to anyone it didn’t matter to, and we fed each other cheese and fruit for lunch. Adam’s visit was simple but perfect.
He cleaned up after lunch, and pulled me back into his lap when he returned to the couch. I was going to have a hard time sitting anywhere else after this.
“You know what I’ve never done on Valentine’s Day?” Adam said.
“Bungee jumping? Because I’m going to need to wait a little bit before we try that.” I wiggled my injured leg.
He laughed, cupped my face, and gave me one of those long kisses that was as sweet as the strawberries had been, but had an underlying spice that made me think he might consume me in flame if he pushed a little harder.
He broke away and searched my face. “I’ve never made out with someone on Valentine’s Day. You know, a really good, intense session of kissing and groping.”
“It seems like a shame to not have experienced that at least once in your life.” My imagination was already racing along the possibilities and my body whimpered for the reality of it.
“Right?” Adam slipped one hand to the back of my neck and tightened his grip, holding me captive. The way he crushed his mouth to mine was both playful and possessive, and I gasped in surprise.
An unwelcome voice came out of nowhere, whispering in the back of my mind and asking what about Deacon?
What about him? Adam was here, and I was enjoying every minute of his company, from the talking to the kisses and everything in between.
I pressed in harder, searing thoughts of only Adam into my mind, and memorizing the way his mouth seared my skin and consumed my soul and left me desperate for more.