Hope Over Fear (Over #1) (9 page)

“Hush up, Marlo! I work with him at the clinic. Oh, shit, he’s coming over here. Try to tone it down a bit, please!”

“Sara, is that you? Hey, how about that, twice in one day. I may have left my flag at the clinic, but I can improvise if you’d like,” Adam jokes as he pats his hands on his pockets, as if looking for a flag substitute.

“No, I don’t think that will be necessary.” I giggle and let out a high-pitched, nervous laugh. “Adam, these are my friends, Alex and Marlo. Adam is also a volunteer at New Horizons Outreach Center.”

Marlo extends her hand to him. “It’s very nice to meet you, Adam. But I have to be honest, if you’re making trouble for our little Sara, there’s gonna be a whole helluva lot of hip popping and finger waving in your future. Just saying …” She shrugs apologetically as she inspects her fingernails.

“Please ignore Marlo, she’s all bark and no bite, kind of like a little chihuahua,” Alex feigns seriousness as she shields herself from Marlo’s punch.

Adam chuckles. “Hey, she’s taking up for friend—that’s admirable. Marlo, I promise you that I sincerely apologized to Sara, and I plan to be the model coworker from here on out.”

“Well, that’s what I like to hear. You get a pass this time, Adam, but I don’t hand out passes often. I suggest you keep on your toes.” Marlo gives Adam a wink to let him know she’s teasing. Well, I think that’s why she winked. You never know with Marlo.

“So Adam, do you have a certain area of the clinic that you volunteer in?” Alex leans in and pushes out the fourth chair at our table, silently inviting Adam to sit.

“Thanks, it’s going to be a little while until my order is ready,” Adam says as he sits down, “and, yes, I mainly work with the domestic abuse clients. But I also lend a hand with adoption clients, and I teach classes on STD and pregnancy prevention. I’ve had many compliments on my condom application demonstrations.” Adam smirks at me, chuckling softly.

I cough loudly as Alex and Marlo give Adam a confused look. I don’t feel like explaining my little tirade, so I quickly change the subject. “Are you just getting off work? I mean … you look dressed up, so I just figured …”

“Well, I had a meeting with one of my clients, and I didn’t think they would appreciate me showing up in the sweats I normally wear when I work. I’m a graphic artist, so I work from home most of the time.”

“Sweet job. I’d love to make my own hours instead of these damn twelve-hour shifts. You know, Alex is an artist, too. She owns Reflections Art Gallery downtown.” Marlo looks proudly over at Alex, who is uncomfortably shifting in her seat from the attention. She’s never enjoyed the spotlight.

“Hey, I know that gallery—you’ve got some beautiful pieces in there, Alex. I’m impressed. I’m a whiz with computer graphics, but I’m afraid I’m more of what you would call an expert doodler with pencil and paper.” Adam leans back in his chair and pushes up his sleeves. I see the tip of a tattoo peeking out of the bottom of his shirt. I can’t be certain, but it looks like a gnarly piece of wood.

“Is that a tattoo on your arm? What is it?” It doesn’t occur to me until the words fly out of my mouth that it’s probably none of my damn business. Oh well, it’s too late for me to take it back now.

“Yeah, I lost a bet to my friend, Cain. He made me get a tattoo of Tweety Bird sitting on a tree branch.”

“Seriously?”

“No.”

“Jerk!” I push Adam’s leg and laugh.

“What about you, Sara? Do you have any tattoos?” Adam asks as he leans into me.

“No, I don’t, but I’ve always wanted one. I just can’t decide what I’d like etched on my skin forever. That’s a big decision, ya know? Forever’s a long freaking time!” It doesn’t escape my attention that he evaded my questions, and that makes me want to know all the more.

“Sara has a bit of a problem making big decisions, you know … committing.” If looks could kill, Marlo would be dead. What the fuck does she think she’s doing? The last thing I want to do is air my dirty laundry to a new coworker, and Marlo just threw my theoretical dirty panties on the table for everyone to see.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that, Sara? Oh, shit, I didn’t mean anything by that, I’m sorry. I’m just joking around, sticking my foot all the way down my throat.”

Adam is wearing a confused look, and I have no intention of explaining. I’m too busy fighting the redness taking over my cheeks. Adam’s covers his reaction quickly and grabs my hand.

“What are you doing?” I ask as I see him putting a pen to the inside of my wrist. Whatever he’s doing, I welcome the distraction. I know Marlo didn’t mean any harm, but I’m still overly sensitive about the events of the past year.

“I’m taking you tattoo shopping, but no peeking until I’m done. Maybe I’ll help you find the perfect ink.”

I look away to honor his no peeking rule, and I feel the pen start brushing against my skin. Although he’s only lightly touching my wrist with the pen, I must admit that it feels subtly sexy. I will myself to change my train of thought, but to no avail.
Don’t even go there. You know he and Celia are an item. You’re just setting yourself up for a fall. Remember, friends, that’s what this is.

“So what is Celia’s main role at the clinic?” That’s right, I need to keep things in perspective.

“Celia is a therapist; she has her own private practice in Providence. She holds individual sessions and group sessions at the clinic for those clients who wouldn’t be able to afford it otherwise. She really goes the extra mile. She gets through to patients who would be lost in the system without her.”

It’s apparent that Adam cares deeply for Celia, and I hate to admit it, but it’s endearing. I hope one day I’ll meet someone who says sweet things about me behind my back.

“Well, maybe I should let her take a look into my fucked up head. Maybe she could untangle the web of wacko that I’ve got going on up there!” I hate to disappoint Marlo, but I’m pretty sure she’s an enigma that can’t be solved or fixed.

“No, Marlo, I don’t think Celia would be the therapist for you. Celia’s patients are less ‘I’m looking for the meaning of life,’ and more ‘I see dead people,’ if you know what I mean. She takes care of the chronically mentally ill—the people who most of society has thrown away. I don’t know how she does it, but she has endless compassion and patience,” Adam explains.

“That’s a tough population to work with, I would imagine. It must take a special person to be able to make a difference,” I say, honestly. I already knew I liked Celia when I met her, but now I respect her immensely.

“Celia is very special. Her clients are lucky to have her. I truly believe that she feels just as lucky to have them. That’s just the way she is.”

“Adam Hunt, your pizza’s ready,” the cashier calls out over the intercom.

“Ah, perfect timing. I’ve just completed my masterpiece. Okay, tell me what you think,” Adam says with a satisfied grin.

I look down at my inner wrist and can’t believe the detail in his drawing after such a short amount of time. The ‘tattoo’ is large, about the size of a credit card, but still manages to appear dainty. Adam has drawn a dandelion with several of the seeds blowing away from the flower.

“Adam, it’s beautiful. I think it takes more than just an expert doodler to draw something this intricate with just a pen in five minutes. I think you’re being modest …”

“I think you flatter me. So do we have a winner?”

“I love it, but I’d like to shop a little more, if you don’t mind.”

“Smart girl; you should never pick the first thing you see.”

As Adam smirks at me, I start wondering. “So, why a dandelion?”

“I’m thinking you deserve a wish.”

I may be totally off base, but I think Adam may need a reminder about Celia, too. The back and forth between us feels dangerously close to verbal foreplay. I’ve done a bang up job of avoiding the male species entirely for the past year, so maybe I’m being overly sensitive. But I was oblivious to Mason’s flirting for months, so it would have to be fairly blatant if I’m aware of it. Maybe Adam flirts with everyone, and it’s just his nature. Maybe Celia and Adam aren’t exclusive. If that’s the case, he’s crazy if he thinks I would jump into that triangle. I make a concerted effort to table these thoughts until I have more information. No need to work myself up before a problem even exists.

“Adam Hunt, your pizza is ready,” repeats the cashier in a slightly impatient tone.

“Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t you stick around and eat with us, Adam? No need to rush home. We’ll even share our beer with you!” Alex smiles sweetly. She may look innocent, but I see her wheels turning.

Adam looks at his watch and shakes his head. “I appreciate the offer, but I have somewhere to be. Some other time maybe. It was very nice meeting you, ladies. Sara, I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” My eyes unconsciously watch Adam grab his pizza and walk out the door. When I turn back to the table, I see two sets of eyes boring into me.

“What?” I ask innocently.

“Don’t even try it, Dandelion. Alex and I just witnessed that little game of footsie that you and ‘sex on a stick’ were playing. Don’t get me wrong—I’m glad to see it. Your lady parts need some attention, and
that
guy would be a fan-fucking-tastic way to end that drought of yours.”

“There’s nothing going on, I swear. Celia is his girlfriend. I heard them talking about meeting up at nine, and he just told us he has somewhere to be. And look at the time … it’s 8:45. He’s just being friendly … I think.”

“That was friendly, all right. If he’s got a girlfriend, then you need to be very careful with him, Sara. I doubt his girlfriend would appreciate him acting that way.” I see the concern etched on Alex’s face.

“I met him and Celia today, so I don’t want to jump to any conclusions. I promise to tread lightly and keep myself out of any precarious situations. Cool?”

I appreciate my friends’ concern, and I don’t take it lightly. I’ve been villianized for what happened with Mason, so the last thing I need is to take on the title of home wrecker.

“Cool with me. That being said, I’ve got to state the obvious. That man is fucking hot. That hair, those crystal blue eyes, and that ass—
somebody
at this table better ride that cowboy and pass on all the dirty details.”

“Marlo!” Alex and I scream at the same time. It’s like being friends with a five year old—she’s got absolutely no impulse control. I can’t help but love her, though. That level of honesty keeps things interesting.

“Just saying …”

Morning comes more quickly than I’d like, but my run energizes me. I breathe in the cold, dry air and revel in the feeling of my lungs expanding to their limits. I use this time to sort out the details of the past couple of days—to simplify what has the potential to become very complicated. Nothing or no one will jeopardize my work at the clinic.

Celia and Adam are in a relationship. I felt the intimacy between them when I first saw them together. It was clear even from across the room. I keep trying to pound this information into my brain, because daydreaming about Adam is flirting with disaster.

I know I’m foolish for entertaining these ridiculous notions about a man who I’ve spoken with twice. Twice! No contact with the male species has morphed me into an overzealous, horny teenager. A man shows me the slightest bit of platonic attention, and I’m a carving knife away from etching our names into a tree trunk. A little bit of extra attention? Sure, I’ll ‘fess up to that. Platonic attention all the same, though. Yet I still feel his fingers holding my wrist, the tingling sensation never quite diminishing. Shit, I’m pathetic.

A date—that’s what I need to straighten out my shit. Never underestimate the power of distraction. If I’m thinking about my date, then I won’t be thinking about what’s his name. Marlo is on and off with a hot paramedic named Mike, and I’m sure he has some hot paramedic friends.

As I finish up my run, I recap my objectives:

1. I will focus on my clients; everything else is just background noise.

2. Celia and Adam are an item, and I will respect that.

3. My pathetic ass needs to stop reading into things that aren’t real.

4. I’ll spend my time fantasizing about a hot paramedic guy, and I will forget about what’s his name.

Yeah, I’m so screwed.