Page 17 of Lost Love Found

Am I yelling? I think I’m yelling. And I’m breathing too fast. And is he just standing there shaking his head at me? What in the fresh hell is going on?

He clears his throat. “My name is Adam River Holm.” All the air rushes out of my lungs as I feel my eyes widen. “Lainey, please… please let me explain. I didn’t lie to you. I have never once lied to you.”

I can’t bring myself to look away from him. His voice is so familiar, yet his face is so unexpected. It fills me with a strange mix of emotions. I want to run away, to hide from what I see in his face. But at the same time, all I want is to stay just where I am and listen to him, to remind myself that he is still my Adam.

No, no… not mine.

“I’ve wanted to tell you so many times. Every time we’ve spoken on the phone, I’ve come so close to telling you, but I’m a coward.” He takes a step toward me, and I step back involuntarily. He winces then looks down at his feet. “I thought you’d stop talking to me once you found out, or worse, treat me differently because of it. Not because of who I am, but because of how I deceived you.”

His lips twitch, his brow scrunch together, and the corners of his eyes crinkle as if a heavy thought weighs on him. He inhales sharply and his eyelids flutter shut, as if willing himself to utter the words he has to say. “But that was never my intention, I swear. I’ve been honest with you about everything L, I swear it. Well, everything but this one thing. Shit, I am really fucking this up.”

He takes a few steps away from me, hands running through his thick brown hair. I stay silent, not daring to move a muscle as I take in his tall frame, the broad expanse of his shoulders. He shrugs off his overcoat to reveal a navy blue henley that hugs his fit body, emphasizing every muscle. His jeans... oh lord, how his jeans hang low on his hips like an invitation I'm desperately trying not to accept.

You’re supposed to be mad, not getting all lusty. Get back to being mad!

I’m not mad though. I’m… sympathetic. I’ve seen what this life of fame does to the person who’s closest to me. I work in this industry, but no one really knows who I am. Most of the time, I have my anonymity. People like him and Maeve can’t even step outside without being recognized and having cameras or phones shoved in their faces.

I take a few deep breaths. “Adam?” I step towards him. He’s still turned away and I can’t see his face. “Adam. Please look at me?”

He slowly turns around, and my heart races as I feel my body pull towards him with an invisible gravitational force. His blue-green eyes meet mine and I find myself unable to break the gaze, captivated by his chiseled jawline, the strength of his straight eyebrows and the beauty of his wide mouth that looks like it was made for kissing.

Feeling brave, I take a step closer so I can take in every detail of his face. My right hand instinctively rises, overcome by memories of the night we'd first met. I lightly run my fingers through his perfectly groomed beard, a small smile playing on my lips.

“Your beard is longer.” He inhales, closes his eyes, and exhales on a long, slow breath. He opens his eyes and nods once. “And your eyes… they’re so blue.” Blue doesn't begin to do them justice. The color of his eyes is a stunning cerulean blue, the irises rimmed in a darker shade. His long, thick eyelashes are midnight black, sweeping gracefully across his cheeks, so unfairly long and dark that it's impossible not to stare.

Looking at his eyes this closely should make me uncomfortable. It should make me squirm and look away, but I don’t. Not until he finally blinks and I come back to the moment. My hands move back down to my sides.

I can’t believe this. I can’t believe I didn’t know who he was and that of all the people I could have met that night, I met one of the most well-known actors in Hollywood.

He swallows hard and those bright blue eyes swirl with emotions I can’t name. My eyes travel the surface of his face, taking in every detail. When my gaze lands back on his eyes, I notice that his is on my mouth where my bottom lip is trapped between my teeth. Righting myself, I take a deep breath and place a hand on his arm.

“I understand, Adam. Your life is so… public. Everyone knows your face, so when given the opportunity to talk to someone who doesn’t know who you are, when you’re afforded that kind of anonymity, I understand wanting to take it. I understand wanting a friend who doesn’t know about your fame.” I look down at my feet now, feeling sick about my use of the word “friend,” and unsure of what I’m going to say next. Words come anyway. “And yeah, I would have treated you differently. If I’d known that night… if I’d known who you were…” I feel my eyebrows bunching in between my eyes. I shake my head and look back up at him, unable to meet his eyes.

“I also understand, Lainey. If you’re upset, disappointed, or mad. I would understand whatever feelings you might have about this. And I really am sorry.” His left hand comes up, and he tucks some of my hair behind my ear in a movement so fluid, so natural, I almost forget I have only known this person for a few weeks and only just saw his face for the first time.

For reasons I can’t explain, my chin wobbles, so I reach out and hug him around his torso so I can hide my face in his chest. It doesn’t take long before he wraps his arms around my shoulders. I rest my head against his chest, and feel the steady thrum of his heart matching the quickened pace of my own. A sense of calmness settles over me as I feel the reassuring thump beneath my ear.

My brain chooses this moment to notice the hardness of his body. Oh. My. God. It feels amazing. His back is solid, and there is not one bit of softness that I can feel. He’s all toned muscle, and what is he, like 6’4”? So tall. So, so tall.

His heart rate slows down a bit and I feel his lips on the top of my head, sending a shiver down my whole body. Trying to hide this embarrassing shiver, because apparently, I have a lot of physical reactions that need to be hidden from this beautiful man, I pull away.

“OK, so I guess I should call you River, then?” I look up at him, way up because we’re so close now, and he flinches when I use his middle name.

“I haven’t been called Adam since I was a kid. Not many people outside of my family know that it’s my first name.” He runs his hands up and down my arms absent-mindedly. “As soon as I started acting, it became River. Something about it sounding more interesting than Adam.” His lips come up on one side in a crooked smile, his right hand now playing with the ends of my hair. “You can call me whatever you want when it’s just us, but when we’re in public… yeah, probably River. Is that OK?”

I’m sorry, come again? ‘When it’s just us’? I can call him whatever I want? Jesus, take the wheel.

“Uh-huh. Sure. Yeah. That’s cool. Yep.”

Stop talking!!!

The corners of his mouth turn up in a smirk, then slowly expand into a broad, ear-to-ear grin that illuminates his entire face.

Oh. My. Lanta. I may need CPR. I can’t breathe. How is one person’s face THIS beautiful? Is he real? Or is he a robot conjured up in a lab with a perfectly rugged face and rock-hard body?

His eyes crinkle at the corners as my mind spins with a hundred unfinished sentences. I try to focus on something, anything, to say. My lips part and the first words that tumble from them are, “I made a turkey dinner!” It comes out all loud and weird.

His smile fades completely, and his fingers cease their toying with my hair. “You did what?”

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