Slide (Boosted Hearts Book 3) Page 21

  Shit, he couldn’t breathe properly. Was he hyperventilating? His vision was getting fuzzy.

  “Jesus. Adam? Are you okay?” Joe said. At least he thought it was Joe.

  Was he okay? The woman he loved beyond reason was with someone else two weeks after he ended things between them. No. No, he was not fucking okay. He was dying.

  Adam shoved Joe’s hand off his shoulder and tried to walk away.

  Joe grabbed his shirt and shoved him back against the workbench. “You really care about her, don’t you?”

  “What gave it away?” he choked.

  Both Hugh and Joe were studying him like they’d never seen him before. “Why’d you end it with Lucy when you so obviously love her?” Joe asked.

  “You know why,” Adam gritted out. “You saying you want me with your sister now?” Jesus. His head was spinning.

  “Fuck no,” Hugh said.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “I’ll never settle down. I don’t want commitment and all the shit that goes with it,” Hugh rumbled, throwing his own words back at him. “Sound familiar? You’ve been saying that shit since I met you in high school. You’ve never had a girlfriend, and you’ve spent the last twenty years trying to fuck your way through the female population.” Hugh crossed his arms. “Would you want you to date your sister?”

  Adam had said all those things, many times. He’d believed them, too, down to his bones, but now…

  “I didn’t think that’d changed until the reaction you just gave us,” Joe said. “What are you going to do about it?”

  Adam shook his head. “Nothing,” he rasped. This might be her chance at true happiness. Fuck. The One. He thought he might throw up.

  Hugh made a disgusted sound. “You don’t think you deserve her?”

  Adam held his friend’s hard stare. “You telling me I’m wrong?”

  “The right man for Lucy is the kind of man that’ll fight for her. So yeah, you’re right, you’re sure as fuck not that man.” Hugh strode away.

  Fuck.

  Joe stood there staring at him. Finally, he said, “At first, I was pissed at you for soiling my precious baby sister, for sneaking around behind our backs. Then I was pissed at you for doing exactly what I thought you’d do, breaking her heart and letting her go. Now I’m not pissed, I’m fucking furious. The way you reacted, you don’t just care, you love her, but you sacked out anyway. That’s pretty fucking pathetic, dude.”

  Before Adam could answer, Joe was striding away. Adam was trying to process what the hell had happened, what it all meant, if it meant anything, when Joe stopped and turned back to him.

  “And by the way, about the new guy Lucy’s seeing? I lied. She’s not seeing anyone. She’s going back to school.” Joe winked. “Just wanted to see how you’d react. You didn’t disappoint—no, scratch that—you totally fucking did.” Then he walked out the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Adam sat in his car and stared down at his phone. He wanted to call her so damn badly. To congratulate her about school, tell her how proud of her he was for sticking with her dream of becoming a child psychologist.

  To beg her not to leave.

  “Shit.” He shoved his phone back in his pocket and stared out the windscreen to the cemetery beyond. The sun was starting to dip in the sky, casting long shadows from the headstones. It was a beautiful cemetery. Well maintained, lined with trees, their leaves rustling softly in the breeze. His mom had already paid for the plot, he’d found out after her death. How long had she been planning it? How long had she had it before she did what she had?

  After grabbing the flowers off the seat beside him, he got out of the car. It was still hot enough that sweat instantly rose on his skin, sliding down between his shoulder blades. It was the same every year. For some reason, he noticed all these things, and like every year, it took gargantuan effort to make his feet move him forward, to walk through the arched wrought-iron entrance. There was no one else around this late, which was why he always came at this time of day. He didn’t need an audience, a witness to his pain. His hollow apology. An apology that could never make any of this better, that only brought his failure more clarity. As much as it hurt like fuck, he needed this, to be reminded of the reasons he needed to stay the hell away from Lucy.

  He stopped in front of his mother’s simple headstone, staring down at her name and the dates of when her life began and ended. Forty-two years. That’s all she had. Would she still be there if it weren’t for his eagerness to escape, to escape her pain, the way seeing her suffer made him feel?

  Selfish.

  He was so damn selfish.

  During her good times, she’d been a great mom, attentive and caring. But they’d started coming less and less over the years. More often than not she was locked away in her bedroom, unresponsive. Sometimes weeks would go past without her saying one word to him. She’d stare into space, doped up on medication, or silently crying. He’d taken care of her. Made sure she ate and brushed her teeth. They had other family members who helped, but it was mainly him.

  He thought he could leave her with them, that they’d take care of her.

  Crouching down, he placed the roses he’d bought in front of her headstone. He didn’t know why he bought them every year. It seemed the right thing to do. Another pointless gesture. She wasn’t there anymore.

  Anger shifted through the guilt. Yeah, he was angry, so damn angry, not just at himself but at her, and that made him feel even guiltier. It wasn’t her fault she’d been sick. But because of his screwed-up childhood, now he was a fucking mess. So fucked up that he’d hurt the woman he loved.

  Sliding his hand into his pocket, he pulled out the crumpled, well-read note his mother had left him the day she’d taken her own life. He unfolded it, even though he didn’t need to read it—the words were branded in his mind—and ran his fingers over the fading ink.

  Promise me you’ll make the most of this life. Do it for both of us. Do what I never could.

  He knew that’s not what he’d been doing.

  He’d been crawling on his stomach through broken glass all these years. Playing at living. Seeking the next high, then the next, in an attempt to get through each day.

  He hadn’t been happy. He’d been playing a part, the ladies’ man, the player, free from commitment and messy emotions. Even convinced himself he liked it that way.

  It was bullshit, though, all of it. He could see that now. Had been able to see it for a long time. He’d been self-medicating with sex. Desperate for a connection, a way to forget, to keep up the charade.

  He’d been happy those few weeks with Lucy. Happier than he could ever remember being in his life.

  Fuck. Who was he kidding? Happy didn’t come close to describing the way he’d felt when he was with her. Complete. Whole. Right. There’d been no tornado swirling inside him, no giant knot in the pit of his stomach. He’d felt…still. There was no other way to explain it. He hadn’t even known it was something he’d been missing, that stillness, until he’d slept with Lucy in his arms.

  He stared back at the note gripped in his fingers.

  Do what I never could.

  He was failing. He wasn’t living life—he was running from it.

  Something shifted inside him, and it was so profound he dropped to his knees.

  He didn’t want to run anymore.

  Lucy.

  ~ * ~

  Pasta slipped off the end of Lucy’s fork back into her bowl. This was a celebration for her. She was going back to school. Well, finishing her degree there in LA. Studying part time would take a little longer, but she was determined to pay for it herself. Hugh and Joe had helped her enough. It was time she stood on her own two feet, and this was the first step toward her career, a future she’d always dreamed of. A career she wasn’t giving up on because of one cheating, manipulative creep. She’d needed the break from school to realize it was still what she wanted, to heal after the pain of losing her baby. Aft
er Adam ended things between them, she’d had plenty of time to think. Now she finally felt like she was back on the right path.

  So why was she having a hard time getting happy?

  “You gonna eat that?” Joe asked, dragging her bowl of fettuccine his way.

  “Well…” Her brother shoved a forkful of her pasta into his mouth. She shook her head. “No, really, it’s fine. Help yourself, Joe.”

  He grinned and shoved in more. “This is delicious.”

  Darcey jabbed him with her elbow. “Gross. Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

  He straightened. “Gross?” Darcey chuckled as Joe popped his bottom lip out. “I’m wounded.”

  Noah cracked up and shook his head. “She’s right. You’re totally gross, dude.”

  Joe threw his balled-up napkin at Darcy’s little brother. “You traitor! Boys against girls remember!”

  Darcey snorted. “Give Lucy back her dinner and stop being a pig.”

  The three of them carried on teasing each other and laughing as if Lucy wasn’t even there. Wrapped up in each other. That’s the way it was supposed to be. She looked over at Hugh and Shay a little farther down, and they were just as bad. Hugh had a smile from ear to ear, while Shay playfully hit him on the arm. Going by the way Edna was cackling and Harold was blushing, Hugh had said something inappropriate, again.

  Her family was happy. She’d wanted this for her brothers for so long. And, God, she was so damn thrilled for Hugh and Joe, but right then, she was actually feeling envious.

  How messed up was that? Especially after everything they’d been through to find that happiness.

  She glanced at her brothers again. And a jagged ball rolled around in the pit of her stomach. She hated that she missed Adam. That she missed that son of a bitch so much she ached.

  Stop it, Lucy.

  She would conquer this. She had to.

  Slumping back in her seat, she glanced around the restaurant, and froze.

  As if he’d been summoned, the man materialized, walking through Abella’s door. He stood across the room, dark gaze sliding to the back of the restaurant and locking onto hers.

  Lucy’s breath caught in her throat just from the sight of him. He was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt. His hair was sticking up a little, like he’d been running his hand through it, and he looked tired. No. He looked exhausted.

  She hated that she still cared. She’d give anything to switch her emotions off. What was he doing there anyway? She sure as hell knew Hugh or Joe hadn’t invited him.

  He started toward their table, expression intense, gaze still zeroed in on her. The closer he got, the faster her pulse raced. She felt glued to her seat, and when he reached her side and she stared up at him, the look on his face could only be described as determined. Fierce.

  “Luce.”

  Hugh stood up, chair scraping.

  Adam ignored him. “I need to talk to you.”

  “No,” Hugh growled.

  Lucy turned to her brother, giving him a hard look. “Sit down, Hugh.”

  Her brother’s jaw ticked, monster biceps bunching as he clenched and unclenched his fists. Shay grabbed his hand and yanked on it, and though he was still scowling, he obeyed his wife and sat down.

  It was hard, but Lucy forced herself to look back at Adam.

  “You’re going back to school,” he rasped before she could say a word.

  “Yes.”

  He lifted his hand and his fingers twitched before he dropped it again, like he’d been fighting the urge to touch her. “I’m happy for you. I mean it, so fucking happy you’re going to get to do what you’ve always wanted.”

  An electric pulse fired up inside her, setting every nerve ending on high alert. That awareness, that heat pumping through her veins, was so familiar, so strong. She shoved it down and smothered it in anger—the only emotion she could deal with where Adam was concerned. “What do you want, Adam?”

  “I know you said to stay away. I just…I need to tell you a few things. I need—”

  “I don’t care what you need.” She clenched her fists either side of her. “We have nothing to talk about, not anymore. Not a thing. We’ve already said everything we needed to.”

  “Luce, please. Just give me a few minutes, and if you still feel the same way about me when I’m done, I’ll leave you alone. I won’t bother you again. I promise.”

  She could feel herself weakening. She couldn’t afford to be weak. Not around this man, not with the way he affected her. There wasn’t anything he could say that would make a difference, not now. Yes, she loved him, deeply…desperately. But he’d hurt her. Oh, she’d walked right into it with her eyes wide open, but she wouldn’t—couldn’t—open herself up to that again. His apology, or whatever this was about, wasn’t something she would put herself through, not when it was only to appease his own guilt.

  She shook her head. “No.”

  His eyes drifted shut for a moment and when he looked at her again, the longing he aimed at her made it hard to breathe all of a sudden.

  “Luce…please, baby.”

  “She said no,” Joe said.

  Lucy flinched at the word baby coming from Adam’s lips. The last time he’d called her that he’d been in her bed and she’d been in his arms. God, this hurt too much.

  She didn’t miss the sympathy in her brother’s eyes, for both of them. And she hated that her impulsiveness, when he’d done everything in his power to keep her at arm’s length, had caused a rift between him and her brothers.

  Adam’s jaw hardened, dark gaze sliding to Joe then back to her. His eyes searched hers, and just when she thought she might give in and throw herself at him, he dipped his chin, turned, and walked away.

  She felt ill.

  Joe touched her arm, but she didn’t want to talk or have her family’s sympathy right then. This whole mess was as much her fault as Adam’s. She went after a man she shouldn’t have. Let hope blind her to reality, when he’d told her he didn’t want anything more than physical.

  Dropping her napkin, she excused herself and headed to the bathroom. The urge to leave was so damn strong. But her brothers, Shay, and Darcey were so happy for her and wanted to celebrate with her. She couldn’t leave.

  The line for the restroom was short, so she was out way faster than she would have liked. She was headed back to the table when she heard her name over a microphone. Stopping in her tracks, she spun to the front of the restaurant. They sometimes had live music on the weekends, and there must have been something happening tonight because there was a mic on a stand in the middle—and standing behind it, looking uncomfortable as hell, was Adam. The man oozed confidence at all times, but not now. He looked embarrassed, cheeks flushed. He was fidgeting and his face was shiny with perspiration.

  “Sing it, brother!” a voice called from the back. Joe’s voice.

  Adam cleared his throat…then cleared it again. His eyes scanned the room until they found hers.

  What was he doing?

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a book, her book, the one he’d been holding in her old room at Hugh and Shay’s wedding. His fingers trembled slightly as he flicked through until he found the page he wanted.

  “I loved you first…” His deep voice echoed through the microphone as he began to recite one of her favorite poems by Christina Rossetti, deep and strong, with a roughness to his voice that set tingles off across her scalp. His fingers stopped shaking as he carried on, voice getting stronger as he read the rest, about two lovers trying to decide who loved the other more, then deciding that in love there were no weights and measures, no selfishness. That their love for one another made them stronger, made them one.

  Lucy’s throat started to get tight, her eyes stinging as they filled with tears.

  It was impossible to miss what he was telling her.

  Adam loved her.

  Finally, he finished, closed the book, and put it back in his pocket. He looked at her across the room, eyes dark w
ith emotion, unwavering as they collided with hers.

  “I love you, Lucy Colton. Shit, more than anything in this world, and I’m an idiot for letting you walk away. I let my fears get in the way.” He released a shaky breath. “I hurt you, sweetheart, and I hurt me, too. I thought I was doing the right thing, letting you go. But I was so damn wrong. I know I don’t deserve it, but please, baby…please, will you let me explain?”

  Lucy was walking toward him before she knew her feet were moving. When she reached him she dove into his arms, knocking the mic over.

  Adam caught her and buried his face against the side of her throat. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry I hurt you.” He kissed her hair while the room went nuts, with people cheering and wolf-whistling, even her family at the back of the room. Joe was the loudest by far.

  Adam lifted her higher and carried her out of the restaurant, around the side of the building to the quiet parking area, and pressed her against the cool brick wall.

  “I can’t believe you just read me a poem in front of an entire restaurant,” she choked through her tears.

  He cupped the side of her face tenderly, thumb sliding across her damp cheeks. “I’d do anything for you, Lucy. I’ve loved you…fuck, I’ve loved you for so damn long. Loved you so damn much that I thought letting you go was the best thing I could for you. That you deserve better than me. Maybe that’s still true, but I can’t…I just can’t stay away anymore.”

  “I don’t want anyone but you. God, Adam, I’ve loved you since I was twelve years old.”

  He drew in a rough breath. “Lucy…shit.”

  She wrapped her arms and legs around his body, clinging to him, absorbing the deep tremors that racked his body.

  Finally, he lifted his head. “There’s some…things you don’t know.”

  “Whatever it is, I’m here for you,” she whispered. “You know that.”

  His eyes softened, gaze moving over her face. “Baby…I’m broken, have been for the longest time. Only time I’ve ever felt whole is when I’m with you, when I’m lying beside you. When you’re wrapped in my arms or sitting beside me while we drive across country and you’re making me goddamn crazy…when I’m buried deep inside you, and your cries are ringing in my ears.” He cursed. “I want to kiss you so fucking bad right now, sweetheart. So bad, it hurts not to do it.”