Page 63 of Plum

I want to say that it’s me who doesn’t want to go to his place. That he does pay. He buys the groceries, and he’s paying for the PT out of his own pocket. I want to say it’s not like that. We talk. About everything and anything, for hours. And we can sit without talking, too, and it’s…nice.

The thing is…everything I want to say sounds like an excuse, and I know it. And you can’t bullshit a bullshitter, you know?

Nevaeh Ellis and I stared down the same shit, and we made different choices. When Forty left on deployment, she did things I wouldn’t have done, and the club crucified her for it. But the Lord knows, I’ve done some shit, too, that I ain’t proud of. I don’t know how she made it in Pyle, but I know she started with the same thing I did. Nothing.

Anyway, we both understand how the world works.

We both know that nice is nice for now. And nice does not last.

“I guess I should ask him for a diamond bracelet or something. He’s got some fool idea about tearing up the floor in my living room to fix where it sags. He’s been down in the basement, looking at the joists. That’s gonna cost me if he bails with the job half done.”

“You should ask for a matching set. Bracelet, necklace, and earrings.”

I should. I will. I wince thinking about how he’ll look at me, but he’ll do it. He bought everything I circled in all my catalogues, and I didn’t even ask.

It don’t set easy, but I should start making plans. I can’t get comfortable, let this strange, warm feeling I get when he’s around burrow too deep. It’s shifty, like a good buzz that can put you on your ass, puking in the bushes with no warning. A not-to-be-trusted high.

“Maybe I will.” I want to change the subject. This is depressing the hell out of me. “Want another banana split?”

Nevaeh groans, unzips her pants, and tugs down her sweatshirt so you can’t tell. “Hell, yeah. You go get it. We’ll split it.”

“Split the split?” I push my chair back.

“Only ever with you, Jo-Beth.” Nevaeh grins, and I feel a little better. She was always a good time. When she left town, it was like a light went out. I don’t care what everyone says. She had a reason for what she did to Forty. Probably a shitty one, but still.

We all have reasons.

Adam Wade is keeping me away from his real life for a reason. No doubt because I’m a stripper who whores on the side. Because I blew his stepbrother and got him beat up. Because I’m not the kind of woman you take home to the country club.

He’s got a hundred reasons, I’m sure.

It’s shitty. But still.

We all got reasons.

???

Adam shows up a little past nine in a brand-new truck. It’s a Ford F-450 Platinum. It almost doesn’t fit in my driveway.

He hops out, suit still on, black dress shoes all shiny, and my heart flips like always. He smiles as soon as he sees me on the porch.

I always come out as soon as I hear him pull up. He always texts as soon as he leaves work so I know when to expect him.

For all the money and the crazy work hours, he’s an easy man. He takes the stairs in one leap, grabs me up, and takes my mouth, hungry, molding me to him, urging my legs around his waist. His glasses dig into my face, and he shoulders open the front door.

I laugh, and I nestle my nose in the crook of his neck, draw in the smell of him. He smells so damn good.

He carries me right up the stairs and plops me on the bed, gently but quickly. He peels off his jacket and goes to work on his shirt while I tug off my T-shirt and yoga pants. I love the moment we’re skin-to-skin, and I can curl up into him or climb him. He’s so big compared to me, and anything I do, he fucking loves.

“Oh, oh. Almost forgot.” He’s on the bed, and then he’s not. He’s rooting around in his jacket pocket. “Present.”

He presses a small piece of cool glass into my palm, and I squeal. It’s got to be the tomtit. I peek. It is! It’s the size of my thumbnail, and the prettiest blue with the tiniest black beak.

“A tomtit!”

“A tomtit.” He braces himself over me, smiling down as I roll the bird figurine in my fingers. I think I have almost every kind of bird now. He brings them to me one or two at a time. He gets them at a convenience store in Pyle run by a Russian. He says he stops in on his daily runs.

“How much was this one?”

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