Page 49 of Plum

I wriggle out of Adam’s arms, leaning against the bench to pull on my purple tank top and hoodie. It’s his damn fault. He had to go and make me mad.

And now that I’m thinking about my paycheck, I’m mad all over again.

“You ready?” Adam’s got my bag slung over his shoulder. I reach for it.

“I changed my mind. Call Cue. He can take me.”

Adam takes a step back, and I can’t go after him. I’m too wary of putting weight on my ankle.

“I’m going to take care of you,” he says.

“Heard that before.” I hold my hand out, palm up. “Gimme my bag.” He doesn’t.

“I’m going to make this right.”

I snort. “Nah. You’re gonna say a bunch of sweet shit, then get weird and mean, and frankly, I got troubles now. I don’t have the time for the drama.”

I aim for matter of fact, but I can’t keep the hint of hurt from my voice. He probably won’t notice, though. I’m pretty good at hiding what I really feel. You have to be in my line of work.

Adam exhales, a touch aggravated, and takes a step toward the door. I ease myself down to sit on the bench.

He waits. I put my nose in the air.

He glares. I turn my head.

His shoulders fall, and he comes back over, easing down to the bench next to me, very careful not to jostle me.

He takes a few seconds before he speaks. “I’m know I’m not handling this well. At all.”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“You’re going to make me say it?”

“Say what?”

He chuckles, glances up to the ceiling. “Of course, you’re going to make me say it. I’m talking about the fact that you make me crazy. I haven’t slept since I woke up and you weren’t there. I haven’t been able to go a minute without thinking about you. How is it you don’t feel this, too?” He sounds equal parts mystified and aggravated.

We’re both facing the door, side by side, not looking at each other. I’m trembling. I’d like to blame the temperature, but it’s his words cutting through me, wringing me out.

I do feel it.

I’m sure it’s a trap, I know it’s stupid, and there’s no doubt it’ll end in heartbreak with me somehow worse off than I already am, but Lord help me, I feel it.

He walks into a room, and all of a sudden, everything’s in high definition. Colors. Smells. Sounds are crisper. And my heart don’t ever beat right when he’s close by.

It’s crazy, but it also feels like a glass of ice water after a fever breaks. Pure and perfect and everything you need.

“You feel it, too.” He says it so confidently.

I slide my hand over slowly until the side of my palm presses against the side of his. Then I curl my pinkie over his.

“Hard to feel much besides the broken ankle,” I grumble.

“Okay, then. Let’s go to the urgent care, Jo-Beth.” He leans over, kissing me softly on the temple. Then he stands and lifts me in his arms. I wind my arms around his neck. He nuzzles the top of my head. Something inside my chest spills over like a waterfall.

“Don’t call me Jo-Beth.”

“Why not?”

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