“I swear,” he whispers into my ear, “I wasn’t expecting that.” And I know he means it, that if I hadn’t grabbed his hand, he would have gone to bed and left me alone in the living room to wait out the buzz from the four Cokes I drank.
I don’t know what to say, so I kiss his cheek back, but he turns his head to kiss me for real. I feel him through his boxer shorts, getting hard against my thigh, but he pulls away.
“Morning breath,” he says, grabbing his wadded t-shirt from the floor. “I’ll be right back.” He goes into the bathroom and closes the door. The faucet runs again.
I pull a corner of blanket over myself, try to tuck it around me in a way that’s flattering. I don’t want him looking at me too much in the bright morning. With his chest hair and full stubble, he looks so much older than Matty and I worry there are ways that my body could give me away. When I turned twelve, Margo bought me a training bra and gave me warnings about getting my period and growing hair in weird places, but maybe there are other ways I’m supposed to change past what’s already happened and I don’t even know. Adam would, because he lived with a girl who was probably his own age. I look around the room like maybe there are clues about her, but of course there aren’t. She’s been gone for a while, and it’s not like he’d have a naked picture of her hanging on the wall so I could see what a woman is supposed to look like.
When Adam finally opens the bathroom door, he doesn’t come back to me. I hear cabinets open and close, water pouring and then the burbling sound of a coffee maker.
I am not sure what to do with myself. I yell, “Are you making coffee so you can go get coffee?”
“Busted!” Adam shouts. “I need fuel for my walk to the coffee shop.”
“Me too.” I find his long sleeve flannel wadded on the floor and wear it, like women do on TV. Like I’ve done this before and it’s no big deal.
“You sleep okay?” he calls.
“Yeah,” I say, walking into the kitchen, bare feet on the cold floor. My legs feel so naked. I’m worried he doesn’t want me, that I’m doing something wrong and that’s why he didn’t come back to bed, why he doesn’t want me to touch him. I’m worried it means I won’t be welcome for long, that maybe I’m not even welcome now, but then he brushes my hair out of my face and says, “God, you’re gorgeous.” He gives me the kind of kiss that makes me grab the counter to steady myself because I’m not sure which end is up.
* * *
Adam holds my good hand while we walk to the coffee shop together. And we’re clean and smell like peppermint soap, and I’m wearing one of his sweaters with the sleeves rolled up, because we’re going to wash all my clothes in the laundry room in the basement of his building tonight and fold them while we watch Seinfeld and order calzones from the place down the street, and I know it’s stupid, but it means everything to me to have plans further ahead than the next twenty minutes.
When we get to The Commons, Adam drops my hand and says, “Here. Take my key again.” He’s blushing. “You know, in case you need to stop in at your lunch break, or you go home before I do.”
I know he’s saying home like it’s nothing, just the place he lives, so I try not to be that girl, the kind who takes the most stupid little word and lets it turn her inside out.
“Thanks,” I say quickly.
He brushes his lips against my cheek. “I’ll let you go in first, so they don’t think we’re together.”
My blood stops short in my veins. I’m sure I don’t look like I’m playing it cool this time, because he kisses me on the mouth and says, “Just so it’s easier on you at work. And so I can watch you walk away.”
— Chapter 18 —
“Pilgrim! How goes it?” Bodie says in his lazy lilt when I walk in. He’s taking orders up front, and the line is almost out the door. He has a pencil behind his ear and chews on a red coffee stirrer like it’s a piece of hay. “Do you know how to total when there’s more than one item?” he asks, while I duck under the counter.
I reach from behind him and hit the add button. “Now put the next one in,” I say.
“Thanks, P.” Bodie gives me that great big grin that makes his eyes all but disappear. “Carly called. She’ll be in late. Problem with the espresso delivery.”
The way he says it makes me think maybe it’s some kind of code, but what he could be saying between the lines is lost on me.