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Busy. She’d heard that before.
It wasn’t even fair. She might be sitting here alone with nothing but her books and her laptop to keep her company, but he wasn’t like her. He’d proved that often enough. He had his family, his friends. Sha
Even if it wasn’t his ex. A guy like him, single on a college campus? They’d eat him alive, and fuck knew he hadn’t waited long between things falling apart with Sha
The worst part of it all was that this was what she’d wanted. Him moving on was a best-case scenario, and she’d be fine. She was always fine.
Who the hell was she kidding?
She took the time to mark her book before slamming it closed and shoving it aside. Adam had waltzed into her life and gentled her open. He’d been the best damn lay she’d ever had and the best friend—
And she’d pushed him away. Why? So she didn’t have to watch when he eventually walked off?
All her reasons came rushing back. She’d been protecting him, from himself and from her. Letting him tie himself to her was cruel, when she knew how he was. How faithful and constant and…
She shoved a hand into her hair and tugged hard.
Fuck. Was that really the worst she could come up with?
She was a coward. The worst kind. And now she was alone. Maybe he’d be nice enough to let their… whatever this was fade off quietly. Maybe he’d call at some point to tell her he’d moved on.
Crazy thoughts flooded her mind. Leaving voice mails, trying to keep him in her atmosphere, hadn’t worked. She shook with harsh laughter at the idea of showing up at his apartment. Did they even make boom boxes for idiotic jilted lovers to hold over their heads anymore? She could wave her goddamn Bluetooth speaker at him. Something.
She was losing him.
She’d already given him away.
Pushing back from her desk, she rose to stare at this tiny apartment she’d locked herself away in. All this time, it’d been her refuge, the place she’d escaped to. Now it felt like a prison.
She had to get out of there. Maybe she wasn’t driving to Philadelphia tonight to make a fool of herself. It was a Saturday night, but she sure as hell wasn’t trying the whole losing herself at a club thing. But she couldn’t stay here, brain circling and circling, returning again and again to the same point. She’d fucked up. Made a terrible mistake.
Her gaze caught on the sneakers she’d tossed near the door in disgust a few days prior. She’d tried ru
Pulling up an angry playlist, she tucked a pair of earbuds in. With her keys clenched firmly in her hand, the jagged edges sticking out between her fingers in case anyone decided to fuck with her, she made her way downstairs. She did a couple of perfunctory stretches in the entryway of her building.
The cool, early autumn air enveloped her as she spilled out onto the sidewalk, sca
She made it barely a dozen strides before, out of nowhere, a hand closed around her arm.
And it was instinct. Jesus Christ, but it still was. She kicked her leg out to get into a solid crouch, had her weight just right to lay the guy out on his ass, only…
Only fighting her way out of every situation wasn’t her only option. Not anymore.
Not yielding an inch, she tore her earbuds from her ear. The roar of thrumming bass subsided into a ti
“Goddammit, Jo, I am not letting you do this to me again.”
Her heart stopped.
It was impossible. There was no way.
She shook free, pulse thundering to life again as she tried to get her head around the concept. The hands on her retreated, but she didn’t let her guard down. Twisting away, she got a foot of space between herself and the person who’d taken her by surprise.
And she might as well have been the one who’d gotten flipped. The one flat on her back and gasping for air.
He’d taken her by surprise all right. Here and now, and at every single turn. With his kindness. His attention and his patience, and the fact that he wouldn’t let her push him away. Even when she thought she’d managed it for good.
Because there, hands up in front of him, looking like the best thing she’d seen in her entire life, was Adam.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“You’re here.” Jo stuttered the words out on an exhalation, the pavement or her legs or possibly both going out from under her. She staggered backward until the brick wall of her apartment building came forward to meet her. Slumping against it, she stared at him.
“Jo—” Adam held out a hand, but then paused, not making contact.
It wasn’t quite disappointment coursing through her at the distance lingering between them. How could she possibly be disappointed? “You’re here,” she repeated, like she needed to say it out loud to have any chance of believing it.
He dropped his hand and lifted his chin, looking for all the world like he was gearing up for a fight, and that made her pause. “I am,” he said. “And I know—you probably weren’t expecting this. Hell, you probably didn’t even want it. But—”
Forget gearing up for a fight. He was ready to make a speech. And Jo wanted to hear it, whatever it was he’d come all this way to say, but right there, in that moment, it didn’t matter.
He was here. After all the times she’d felt alone and abandoned and like it would be absolute idiocy to ever depend on anybody else. She hadn’t asked, even though she’d wanted him, needed him, to come. The man she’d been so worried would hold on too long to something that wasn’t there, compromising and accepting less.
He was here for her.
So she cut him off before he could get another word out, before he could even try to convince her. She said the only thing in her brain at that moment. The only thing that mattered.
“I love you.”
Her own voice echoed in her head, the words she’d never imagined she’d ever say. It felt like the world should be spi
Adam stopped in his tracks. He opened his mouth and closed it again, confusion warring with a desperate flicker of hope in his chest. “Excuse me?”
“I—” Her own mouth ached with the force of her smile. “I love you.”
Still frozen in his spot, he gawked at her, but the lines were seeping away, the worry going with them. How could she have left him so uncertain? Given him so much room to doubt?
“I love you,” she repeated one last time, because apparently she was brain damaged and only had two phrases left in her vocabulary, but that was fine. She didn’t need any more.
Except when he still didn’t move, and she didn’t move, she found a third phrase. “Fuck this,” she mumbled, and she launched herself at him.
He caught her as if it were nothing at all, winding his arms around her as she looped hers around his neck, lifting her and holding her tight against the plane of his chest. They lingered, noses brushing. He beamed. “Hi,” he said.
“Hi.”
He surged upward and she crashed into him, and then it was just the heat of his kiss breaking the cool night air, the wet slide of his tongue and the nipping of teeth, flesh catching on the metal of her lip ring, and it was so good she could barely breathe. Her spine hit brick, and he pressed her up against it as she hooked her legs around his waist. Panting into each other’s mouths, they kissed and kissed, and forget ru