Calm Like Home (4 page)

“What up, girl?” He taps the lip of his plastic cup to mine. Even with his casual greeting, I can’t hide the swell of elation rising through me. I’m absolutely beaming.

“What’re you doing here?” I ask. It comes out a laugh. 

He gestures towards the stage with the hand holding the beer. “I don’t know about you, but I came for the sunset.”

“Don’t go all soft on me now Big Dub,” Damien mutters, taking a large gulp of his beer as he joins us. As usual, a look of cool composure is etched on his face, in his stance, in the way he sips from his plastic cup.

The next band rushes onstage and the crowd begins to crush in around us. Adam sidesteps so he’s slightly behind me, shielding me from the press. My head is swimming, overwhelmed by the subtle contact of his chest against my shoulder. Instantly I’m wondering if the contact means anything, if he’d do this for any girl he thought needed his protection.

I try to distract myself from Adam by focusing on the lead singer. He's got a killer voice, deep and booming, and his lips curl into a self-assured smile as he belts out the chorus. His black t-shirt is damp with sweat already, clinging to his body. I should be swooning like every other girl here, but no matter how hard I try my mind keeps going back to Adam, to the way his body feels when it brushes against mine, to this sight of his head bobbing adorably to the beat in my periphery.

I chance a glance at Damien, hoping I’ll catch some clue about the meaning behind Adam’s proximity in his expression. As usual he looks indifferent, his cool exterior preventing emotion from ever landing long on his face. He watches the band with mild interest, slowly sipping his beer and scanning the crowd. He turns to leave briefly and returns balancing three fresh beers in his hands.

As the set progresses I relax into Adam’s presence, allowing myself to brush against him as I dance to the music. I can feel him begin to move with me, his hips swaying behind mine, our arms gently colliding in the air. When there's a particularly good beat, Adam drums it along my shoulder with his fingertips. I don't care if he’s just getting into the show; I savor every single touch singing softly over my skin.

By the time we've finished our beers, the group of guys to our left has downed at least three apiece. They’re growing increasingly obnoxious, bobbing ridiculously to the music and slurring the lyrics. As they jump and collide in a drunken mass, one of the guys stumbles backwards, his lit cigarette colliding with my forearm as he falls into me. He grabs for me in his stupor, trying to catch himself, and the cherry grinds deeper into my flesh. Adam reacts immediately, shoving the guy square in the shoulders so hard he flies backwards into his friends, the force crumpling them to the ground like dominos.

I glance up at Adam’s face in surprise, stunned by how fast he reacted and how pissed he looks now. Gone is the happy-go-lucky guy with the winning smile and radiant eyes. Replacing them are features twisted into a grimace; his eyes are narrowed, ripe with malice. Everything about him is hard, from his expression, to his stance, to his arm rising once more to continue the onslaught. Damien catches Adam’s elbow in the air, moving in front of him, staring into his hardened gaze.

“It’s done, man. Let it go.”

Adam’s shoulders soften as he reaches for my arm and tugs me towards the edge of the crowd. He turns to shout back at me, “Come on, I’m getting you some ice.”

I glance back at Damien, unsure what to make of Adam’s outburst, still stunned by the rapid transformation I witnessed. Damien just shrugs and calls out, “I can’t take him anywhere.”

Adam is a man on a mission. He pulls me after him until we reach the nearest concession stand, then deposits me by a short cement retaining wall under a low-hanging tree while he retrieves some ice. The whole time he’s in line he keeps casting me concerned glances. My arm is screaming in pain, the burn making my whole arm throb, but every time his eyes connect with mine I feel a dizzying warmth spread from the pit of my stomach outwards, and I don’t even think about the burn at all.

Adam returns to me clutching a cup of ice. He leans against the concrete retaining wall beside me, carefully pouring ice cubes into a napkin. The last rays of sunlight are dipping over the horizon, the sky mostly dark overhead, sharpening the contrast between the deep pigment of his irises and the whites of his eyes. Far back from the stage the music is muted, the night surprisingly calm. He leans in closer to my side, his thigh connecting with mine as he carefully presses the ice to my forearm, soothing the burn. His touch is delicate, feather-light against my skin. After a minute he pulls the ice back to take a closer look at the mark, gently inspecting my arm.

“I’m sorry I let this happen, Lex.” His voice is a whisper. His eyes lock onto mine, deep and fixated. He looks so protective, so genuinely concerned. He presses the ice back to my skin, but he doesn’t look away. He doesn't sit back. He's still hovering right beside me, gently holding the ice in place, his thigh pressed to mine. I swallow hard, trying not to imagine what it’d feel like if he were to move just a little bit closer, if our sides were touching, then our arms, then our lips.

“Thank you, Adam,” I finally manage, the words coming out husky and low.

His lips lift into a half-smile, finally relaxing his expression, the tightness dissolving from his face. The creases around his eyes smooth, the furrow leaves his brow. There he is.
My Adam.

I reach my free hand to take over the ice, figuring he's done enough, but he doesn’t let go. Our fingers barely connect, sending sparks radiating through my palms, spreading over my forearms and into my chest. I try to regulate my breathing, to keep it slow and even, but it's next to impossible with him pressed in beside me. His eyes meet mine and I can’t help but wonder. Can’t you see it, Adam? Can’t you see it that I want so much more? That your eyes and your smile are slowly becoming my everything?

“Alright, what’d you do to her?” Annabelle calls, emerging from the crowd with Damien following close behind her.

Adam immediately drops his gaze to the ground and shoves off the concrete retaining wall, like he’s been caught doing something wrong. Like being so close to me never should’ve happened. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and begins walking back towards the crowd. I try my best not to let my gaze follow after him, to not let my eyes reflect the sting at what felt like his rejection.

“You ready to get back out there?” Annabelle asks.

I nod and force a smile. “Let’s do it.”

Damien responds with a muttered, “That’s what she said,” as he follows after Adam.

Chapter 5

I have the early shift at the restaurant the next morning. I eagerly anticipate Adam’s arrival despite the uncertainty still shrouding me from last night’s concert. After rejoining the crowd, Adam kept a watchful eye but he never did let his body touch mine again. I still don’t know what to make of any of it. Of his coming out at all, of his protective outburst, of his distance.

When I first catch sight of him, he’s at the host stand talking with Brittney. She’s clearly in the midst of throwing her best game at him, her eyes bright and her smile wide. I cringe and turn away, eager to distract myself from the pang of jealousy welling in my stomach. Annabelle is waiting for me at the nearest computer screen. I begin entering my table’s order, trying to look unaffected by his presence, but even with my back to him he’s everywhere. He’s everything.

“I see you,” Annabelle muses, interrupting my thoughts.

“What?” I ask innocently, eyes fixed on the computer screen.

“Oh stop it, you
like
him.”

“What’s not to like, Annabelle?” I reply in a sultry voice. Always downplaying. Never saying out loud what he really means to me. Never taking the plunge, even with her.

“No, I mean you
like
him
, like him. Not just I want to pull on his hair, like him, but actually think he’s an
interesting
person
, like him.” She says the words
interesting
person
slowly, as though she’s absolutely baffled.

I sigh with frustration, for once letting it bleed through. “Even if I do, we’re clearly just friends A-Bel. Didn’t you see how he couldn’t get away from me fast enough when you and Damien found us last night?”

“I’ll tell you what I saw. I saw a guy who was pissed you got hurt. I saw a guy who clearly cares what happens to you. I saw a guy who probably wanted to kiss you if I hadn’t interrupted him. That’s what I saw.”

I roll my eyes, wondering if she’s trying to make me feel better or if there’s any truth to what she says, and head to the bar to collect my table’s drinks. I know there’s no way Javier’s had a chance to make them yet, but maybe I can keep him company for a few minutes and keep my mind off Adam for even an instant. Javier’s by far my favorite bartender. He lives in the same apartment complex as me and regularly throws killer parties at his place.

As soon as I set foot in the bar, I can tell he’s slammed. He’s racing back and forth, beads of sweat forming on his brow as he eyes the latest round of drink orders. He sets to work mixing and pouring as fast as he can.

“Damn, Javi! Slow down back there!” I call out.

“Laugh it up. This is how I get my exercise.”

“You look like you’re going to need a trip to the pool after this.”

“You have no idea!”

Something shifts in my periphery and I look over to find Adam leaning against the bar next to me, his forearms supporting him.

“Hey,” he says brightly, nudging my shoulder with his. My skin sears through the fabric, ignited by the simple collision of his body against mine. I feel a deep neediness in my chest to feel him again, to make our bodies connect any way possible. Very slowly, I transfer my weight to the leg closest to him and exaggeratedly stretch my arms wide until they collide with his chest. He responds immediately by playfully kicking the back of my leg. I’m not expecting it and my knee juts forward into the bar.

He bursts out laughing. “Oh shit! Sorry!”

“Ha. Ha.” I reply dryly, attempting to tuck away my smile.

He scans my face, clearly amused, then takes a tiny spear, stabs an olive from the garnish tray, and hands it to me. “Here, peace offering.”

I pop the olive in my mouth and toss the little green spear over the bar, where it lands squarely in the trash bin.

He glances at me out of the corner of his eye, impressed with my shot. “Wow. Nothing but net!”

Javier still hasn’t finished making my drinks. I pick up a paper coaster and start spinning it on the counter in front of me to distract myself from staring dumbly at Adam’s face because it’s times like these when we’re joking and laughing when I wonder how he can’t possibly feel this too. Adam reaches out and flicks the coaster mid-rotation. It goes sailing off the bar into the trash. My eyes widen in mock irritation and I toss a new coaster from the stack at his chest. He catches it midair, then takes a step back and shoots it fade-away style into the trash bin.

Javier eyes us severely from the other side of the bar and raises his arms in a
what-the-hell
gesture. “Seriously?”

Adam starts chuckling and ducks his head. “I don't even have drinks here. I just came to say hi.”

I laugh and scroll my eyes up to his face. ”Came to harass me is more like it.”

“Yeah, little bit.” He bites his lower lip, taps his hand on the bar, and returns to the dining room. I watch him walk the whole way back.

The lunch shift finally dies down and it isn’t long before Javier and I are lounging on beach chairs by the pool, drinks in hand. He checks the screen of his phone for the second time in as many minutes, so I ask, “What’s your deal? Are you expecting someone?”

“Adam overheard us talking earlier and wanted to come by. Guess he doesn’t have a pool and wanted to get some laps in.”

I almost drop my drink in my lap. “Adam’s coming? Here?”

“Yeah. What’s up?”

“You could’ve told me!” I shriek, tossing my towel at his head. I look down at the plain swimsuit I’m wearing, wishing I’d chosen something else for today. There’s never any reason for me to show off for Javier, but Adam’s a completely different story.

Javier catches the towel with one hand, keeping his drink perfectly still in the other. “Well Brittney’s coming too. As soon as she heard mention of Adam and a pool she practically begged me to let her come over.” He tosses the towel back on my chair. “Speak of the devil, there she is now.”

I look up to see Brittney traipse in through the pool gate. She has on a skimpy white bikini, a giant white sun hat, and oversized sunglasses. My heart sinks, knowing where Adam’s attention will likely be. I watch as she quickly scans the chairs.

“Where’s Adam?” she demands.

“He’s not here yet. Chill out,” Javier calls back.

At his comment she visibly relaxes. She makes her way over to us and reclines into the pool chair on the other side of Javier. As she settles in, she removes a bright pink beach towel from her beach bag, along with her cell phone and a bottle of water, and meticulously arranges them around her. She sets to work blowing up an inflatable air mattress then tosses it in the deep end of the pool.

“This should get interesting,” Javier mutters as Adam pushes open the pool gate.

“What up?” Adam calls as he approaches us, clapping Javier’s hand. “Thanks for the invite, man. Somehow I haven’t been in a pool since I’ve been back.”

His eyes shift to meet mine and he takes a seat on the end of my lounge chair, stooping to pull a beer from the case of Miller Lite he carried in. “Beer?”

“This is pretty high class for a frat boy,” I josh, taking the beer from his outstretched hand. A beer has never looked so good. “Shouldn’t you be drinking Natty Ice or something?”

He chuckles. “I get enough of that shit during the school year.” He lowers his voice, leans in, and eyes me conspiratorially, adding, “But you better not tell anyone. If word gets out they might toss me out of the house.” He clinks the neck of his bottle to mine and takes a long swig.