Chapter Two

  Adam drove a silver Chevy Silverado. He had an obsession with trucks, or anything with big tires for that matter. Always the gentleman, he opened the passenger door for me. I grabbed the handle and pulled myself into the front seat. He closed my door, and a minute later he was in the driver’s seat starting the engine. Loud music blared from the speakers. His hand quickly sprang out and turned the knob to lower the volume.

  Being able to sit right next to Adam was my favorite part about the truck. I slid over the bench seat and cuddled against his side. His strong leg was pressed against mine, and I grinned over at him, placing my hand on his thigh.

  “What are you thinking?” Adam asked as he pulled onto the road, the engine roaring under the hood.

  “That I love your truck.”

  “Uh-huh, sure you do. I thought you said it was a gas hog and too hard to get into.”

  “I like this part.” I traced my fingers up his thigh and gave him a wicked grin.

  “Is that so? You better watch it or you’re gonna cause an accident,” he said wryly.

  “Well, it’s a good thing I live so close by.” I laid my head on his shoulder as he pulled onto my street. My house was on a dead end road and set back far enough that neighbors were never an issue. It was a little piece of rural in a suburban neighborhood.

  Jumping down from the truck, I looked up at the familiar two-story colonial house. My family had lived there since I was born. The grass was in need of a cut and Mom’s roses were in full bloom. That, coupled with the blindingly white siding and bright blue shutters, made it a charming picture.

  I pulled the keys out of my bag and fumbled with the lock while Adam stood behind me, his fingertips trailing over my back. Once we got inside, I flicked on the lights, and we made our way to the kitchen table where I spread out our books.

  “How long ‘til your parents get home?” Adam asked, coming up behind me, his breath on my neck.

  “At least a couple of hours.”

  He turned me around and grinned, pulling me close to him. “What do you want to do?”

  “I can think of a few things.” I reached for his hand with a sly smile and led him up the stairs to my bedroom.

  We fell on the bed together, laughing. Our eyes met, and the laughing subsided. I glanced at his lush lips and licked my own. My heart pounded as I waited for him to make the first move.

  I noticed his intense expression as I gazed into his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. You’re just so beautiful. I can’t believe how lucky I am.” He pressed his lips to mine, ending any further conversation.

  I ran my hands under his shirt and up his back, holding him close so that our bodies fit together. His hand drifted down my side and slowly traveled upwards, his fingers trailing across the skin under the hem of my shirt. He made his way from my lips down to my neck, then moved the collar of my shirt to feather kisses across my collarbone.

  The feeling of his lips on my skin and his hand just below my breasts sent shivers through my body. I ran my hands through his soft hair, slipping in a kiss as he ran his tongue up my neck. His lips met mine again.

  Adam and I had an agreement. We only went so far. Kissing and caressing was okay, but we hadn’t had sex yet. We weren’t ready, so we promised each other we’d wait. As he broke away and stared into my eyes, I smiled. He was a good guy and he’d never break his promise to me, no matter how much I sometimes wanted to.

  He rolled off and propped himself up on his elbow next to me. Running a single finger in between my breasts, he said, “You’re perfect.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh, stop it. No one is perfect.”

  “You are. I’m serious. I don’t know what you see in me. All I know is, I never want to lose you.”

  I sighed, knowing I couldn’t win this argument. “You don’t have to worry. I’m not going anywhere.” I snuggled close to him, reveling in how safe I felt any time I was in his arms.

  The first time I had seen Adam had been ten years before, when his family had moved here from the Midwest. He had been the new kid in school. He’d been painfully shy, which was nothing like my Adam. Anyone who met him now wouldn’t take him for the shy boy. But he had been.

  He had been assigned my reading partner, and we quickly became friends. Over the years, he grew into the best-looking boy I know.

  “What are you smiling about?” He traced my birthmark with his finger.

  “I was just thinking about when we first met.” I patted his face dramatically. “You were so nerdy and cute.”

  Adam groaned. “Don’t remind me. I was the smallest boy in our grade and had that huge gap between my teeth.”

  “Look at you now. Six feet tall with perfectly straight teeth.”

  “Thanks to braces and genetics.” Adam pulled me closer. “You were just as beautiful then as you are now. I remember how nervous I was when you asked me to sit by you at lunch.”

  I flushed. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

  “I remember everything about you. I think I loved you from the first moment I laid eyes on you.” He kissed me softly and for a while, I got lost in his kiss.

  I finally pulled away, rested my head on his chest, and listened to his heartbeat. I wished we could stay that way forever.

  After I almost fell asleep in his arms, we decided it was time to get downstairs to our project. My parents would have freaked if they came home and found him in my room. As Adam opened a notebook on the table, I grabbed some chips and drinks.

  “What do we have to do?” Adam popped open the soda can, and it made a loud fizzing sound.

  I stared at my boyfriend, amused. “You didn’t listen to the assignment?”

  He shrugged and took a chug. I had to look away from his full lips, reminded that only moments ago they had been on my body. I wanted to leave the project behind and go back to bed with him.

  “We have to make a menu for French class.” I shook my head. I had no idea how he managed to get passing grades. I think the teachers went easy on him because he was the best pitcher our school had ever seen. And he was a charmer. He had the teachers wrapped around his finger.

  “Oh, right.” He leaned forward and swiped a handful of chips, then sat back in his seat.

  I shoved a library book across the table. “Why don’t you look through this cookbook, and I’ll try to make the front of the menu on the laptop?”

  He nodded and flipped open the cookbook. “What am I looking for?”

  “French dishes, I guess. Anything except escargot. I’m not eating snails.”

  “We don’t actually eat the food on the menu,” he said, flipping another page. So he had been paying attention in class.

  “I know. It’s just…ew!” I shuddered.

  Adam laughed. “Okay. Okay. Got it—no snails.”

  I opened my MacBook and navigated to my favorite program, Pages, where I could make the menu look pretty. I found a picture of the Eiffel Tower to embed into the page. As I was tweaking it, I heard the garage door open.

  “Someone’s home,” I groaned.

  “I can hear that,” Adam teased, still marking pages in the book with little scraps of paper.

  My father walked through the garage door a minute later. There were circles under his brown eyes, and his dark hair was disheveled. His tie was hanging open around his collar, his suit jacket tossed lazily over an arm. He nodded, a weary smile on his lips. “Hey, guys.”

  “Hi, Dad.” I smiled up at him.

  “What’s for dinner?” He glanced around the kitchen, probably noting that it was looking a little barren.

  “I thought we could order Chinese so Mom doesn’t have to cook,” I responded, turning back to my project.

  “Great idea. Order me some sweet and sour chicken.” He crossed the kitchen, his boots heavy on the tile. “I’m going to the study. Call me when it’s time to eat.”

  I watched his retreating back as he walked to hi
s study and shut the door behind him. There was a sense of finality to the click of the door, and I exchanged a look with Adam. That was odd, because usually my father liked catching up on sports whenever he saw Adam.

  “Problems at work, maybe?” I whispered across the table.

  “Probably,” Adam answered with a shrug.

  I hopped up and crossed to where the cordless was mounted above the kitchen counter. I called our favorite Chinese delivery place and ordered our food—I knew everyone’s usual orders already. When I hung up, Adam and I got back to working on our project.

  Not long after, Mom walked in the door just as the front doorbell rang. She raised an eyebrow as she said, “Are you expecting someone?”

  “Dad! Door!” I yelled.

  He came out of his office, already pulling his wallet from his back pocket. His shirt was untucked, and he seemed distracted. Adam followed him to the front of the house.

  My mom eyed me. “What’s going on?”

  I just smiled innocently.

  Adam and Dad returned with bags of Chinese goodness. They started unpacking the bags on the counter as the salty smell filled the room.

  “Chinese? I thought I was cooking.” Mom furrowed her brow.

  “Surprise!” Dad said, not sounding very enthusiastic.

  Mom shot us all a look. “Does my cooking suck that much?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. We just wanted you to have a night off,” Dad responded, saving us all.

  I glanced at Adam. He was having a hard time not laughing. I kicked him under the table, and his eyes widened like he was in pain.

  Mom looked at all of us again, and then washed her hands before sitting down at the table. She eyed Adam like maybe he’d tell her the truth about dinner. I quickly cleaned up our project and got out some paper plates from the pantry.

  “How have you been, Adam?” Mom asked as she opened up the fried rice.

  He cleared his throat. “Good, Mrs. McCallister, staying busy with school and baseball. You?”

  “Just fine, thanks. The kids are driving me crazy, but I love them to pieces.” She paused and scooped a little more rice on her plate. “How’s the project coming along?”

  “Slow, but good,” he answered.

  “Kinda dumb, if you ask me,” I said, setting the two-liter of soda in the middle of the table.

  “Rylie, I’m sure your project isn’t dumb. The teachers just want you to be creative.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Making a French menu is boring.”

  Dad grabbed a plate and scooped a heaping portion of chicken and rice onto his plate and started eating. He spoke between mouthfuls. “How’s the team doing, Adam?”

  Adam’s face lit up. It always did when he talked about baseball. “We demolished the Jaguars last week. This week we have to play Creeksdale. They’re going to be tough to beat. Maybe you can make it to the game?”

  “I can try. Been a little hectic at work. But if I can swing it, I’ll be there.” He shoveled another huge bite.

  “That’d be great,” Adam said with a big grin.

  “Baseball relaxes me.” There was a brief silence as Dad finished devouring everything on his plate in record time, and then he pushed his seat back, rising to his feet. “I’ll be in the study if anyone needs me. Good to see you, Adam.”

  Dad’s abrupt departure from the table surprised me. I glanced over at my mother. “Is he okay?”

  “I hope so.” She ate the last bite of her food, the worry lines prominent on her forehead. “I’ll talk to him later.”

  One of the best things about takeout was not having too much to clean afterwards. Adam helped us throw away the trash and put the leftovers in the refrigerator, and as Mom wiped down the table, I walked him to the door.

  “I should get home,” Adam said. He lived with his dad. His mom had walked out on them years ago, and his older brother had started college last year. So, it was just the two of them.

  “Do you have to?” I wrapped my arms around his waist.

  He gazed into my eyes, brushing my hair away from my face. “I wish I could stay here with you.”

  “Me, too. I don’t want you to leave. I’ll miss you.”

  Our lips met, and we kissed. Adam pulled away first. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “‘Kay.” I watched him walk slowly to his truck. I loved his long, lazy gait. As I walked back inside, I heard the roar of the truck as it came to life and then listened to it fade as he drove away.

  Out of habit, I straightened the pillows on the couch and went to check on the kitchen. It was pretty clean, but I went over the counters again with Lysol wipes. After rearranging the spices, I headed to my room, tired and ready to lie down. I grabbed the TV remote off my desk and flopped down on my bed.

  After flipping through the hundreds of channels our satellite received, I found nothing to watch. I settled on an old episode of a crime-solving show.

  My phone vibrated on my nightstand. My heart leapt. I knew it was Adam.

  I miss u already, Adam texted.

  With a smile, I shook my head and texted back, Miss u 2. Wish u were here.

  Love u beautiful. Sleep well.

  Love u 2.

  I set the phone down and glanced over at the picture of Adam and me on my dresser. It had been taken a few months ago at Homecoming. He looked so handsome, all dressed up in his suit. His blue tie matched the dress I wore. Memories of the dance came flooding back to me. It was our first dance together as a couple. He picked me up in a limo and danced with me all night long, never letting go. That was the night I knew without a doubt that I was in love with him and probably had been for years.

  I must have fallen asleep watching TV, because the next thing I knew I was sitting up in bed, gasping for air. Nightmare. Just a nightmare.

  Deep breaths, I told myself, trying to get my heart rate back down. The dream had felt so real. I was running for my life being chased by some kind of ugly creature. The creature was purple and had huge pointed ears, emerald-green eyes, and long, bony legs. I woke up right as it had grabbed me by the leg and pulled me down.

  I stood up, and my knees wobbled just a little bit. I reached out and balanced myself on my dresser, waiting for the vertigo to pass.

  My curtain fluttered, and a cool breeze entered my room. Did I leave that open? I usually didn’t leave the window ajar because my father insisted we lock them at night. I hesitated momentarily, then walked over to it, slamming it shut and latching the lock. I peered out into the woods. Oh, don’t be ridiculous. There is nothing out there. I closed the curtains and went back to bed.