Page 16 of When Love Comes Home

"Are you okay?" I murmur, still holding her, unable to tear myself away.

"Yes," she says, the word coming out clipped. "Except for the fact that you're heavy and haven't made any effort to move off me."

I chuckle nervously, realizing I’m still very much on top of her, and reluctantly start to push myself off.

When I reach for her hand to help her up, I half expect her to slap it away, but to my surprise, she reaches for it instead. Her fingers slip into mine, and I wrap my hand around hers, steadying her as she stands. She dusts herself off with a swift motion, her eyes not meeting mine as she adjusts her top and smooths down her slacks.

I can’t help but watch, my gaze trailing over her. Her hair, once neatly pinned in a clip, now falls freely around her shoulders, a soft cascade of waves that only makes my pulse race. There’s this overwhelming urge to reach out, pull her into my arms, and forget about everything else.

She turns to me, and when she smiles, it sends a jolt through me. "I'm okay, Adam. Really. I'm fine." The warmth in her voice catches me off guard, softening the tension between us.

Her touch still lingers in my hand, but now there’s something else, something unspoken—an almost electric connection. It’s a spark. A pulse. I feel it coursing between us, threading through the space with an intensity that’s unmistakable. It’s not just me. She feels it too, I’m sure of it.

"Are you okay?" she asks, her gaze soft but searching as she takes my hand. "This is going to bruise."

"No," I interject quickly, "I’ll be fine."

She looks at me for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly, then nods. "Here, let’s put some ice on it."

We walk together toward the small break room at the end of the hall, the silence between us heavy with something that neither of us can name, but both of us feel.

She reaches into the freezer and pulls out an ice pack, then wraps it carefully in a kitchen towel. Gently, she takes my hand and places the ice pack on my knuckles, her touch light but steady. The coolness of the pack contrasts with the warmth of her fingers, sending a rush of sensations through me. She doesn’t pull away immediately, her hand lingering on mine for just a second longer than necessary. I look at her, but she’s focused on the ice, her brow furrowed slightly in concentration.

We’re only inches apart, and when she looks up, the proximity between us feels electric, like we’re on the verge of something. What the hell am I thinking?!

“Thanks,” I murmur, pulling away, my voice low as I try to steady my pulse. “I’ll let this sit for a few minutes, after I pick up the mess I left in the hallway.”

“I’ll help you,” she says, following me into the hallway. She hands me the box and picks up a couple of framed pictures and an autographed football, her fingers brushing mine as she places them back in the box. Together, we gather the rest—an award and a paperweight—before I carry the box back to my office. As I drop it onto the desk and sink into the chair, the weight of what just happened crashes down on me. I can’t ignore it any longer. I love her. I’m in love with my best friend’s daughter. And this isn’t something new—it’s been there for years. Something that’s grown quietly, but intensely, deep inside me. The truth is undeniable now. And it’s terrifying.

Chapter 8

Katherine

EverytimeIseeDad's name flash on my phone, I dodge it like a live wire. Even when I run into him at the office, I can feel his eyes on me, sharp and persistent, but I pretend to be too busy to stop and chat. I thought I'd be better at this—better at avoiding the inevitable. Turns out, I’m not.

I left work early today and spent two hours hiking the Bull Hill Loop trail, hoping the physical exertion would clear my head. But it hasn’t worked. The sweat trickles down my spine, and my feet ache as I push myself harder up the trail, the rhythm of my breath matching the thud of my heart. I was supposed to clear my head, but with every step, I see Adam’s face—the way his expression crumpled when I snapped at him, the hurt in his eyes. I want to push it away, but it clings like the dampness on my skin.

And then there’s the fall. The tile was cold beneath me, but the warmth of Adam’s arms felt like fire. My heart pounded, not from the fall, but from the closeness, from the way he wrapped me up without hesitation. It wasn’t just safety; it was something deeper, like I was the most important thing in the world to him. The heat from his touch lingered long after he let go, and I couldn’t shake it. I didn’t want to.

The thought of Adam being in love with me hits like a punch to the chest—sharp, sudden, and almost suffocating. I can’t breathe for a moment, my heart racing at the idea. What if he does? What if I’m not ready for that? The uncertainty crawls under my skin, and I want to push it away, but it’s there, swirling in my stomach like a knot I can’t untangle. I don’t know if I’m ready to face that possibility. Not yet.

Before I headed out this morning, Mom called to remind me about dinner on Saturday. Her voice was a bit sharper than usual, like she’s been waiting to say this all week. “No more excuses,” she said, her words hitting me before I could even say hello. I can almost picture her standing in the kitchen, hands on her hips, frowning at the phone.

Saturday night dinners are a big deal at my parents’ house. No matter what any of us have going on, attendance is mandatory. The fact that I skipped out last week has landed me in hot water with Mom. With Loren and Justin’s wedding just around the corner, I’m crossing my fingers that it’ll dominate the conversation at dinner.

As Loren's maid of honor, the wedding checklist is always open on my phone—menu tastings, floral arrangements, seating charts. I don’t even have time to breathe before I’m onto the next thing. I wouldn’t trade it, though. There’s a kind of peace in the chaos—my mind filled with tasks, and nothing else. When I finally collapse into bed at night, my head’s buzzing with the thought of another dozen things I have to do tomorrow, and I can’t wait to get started. Adding Adam to the mix just doesn’t work for me or my schedule. I don’t have time for it.

"Speaking of," I mutter as my phone chirps, Loren’s name lighting up the screen. I swipe to answer. “Hello?” I say, already taking a mental tally of my to-do list, hoping I haven’t forgotten anything crucial.

“Hi, Katherine,” Loren says, her voice cautious, hesitant.

“What is it, Loren?” I ask, bracing myself for whatever she’s about to drop in my lap.

“Remember how I mentioned that Justin and I wanted Adam to be in the wedding?” she starts, her words deliberately slow, measured.

“Mmhmm,” I reply, raising an eyebrow, waiting for her to get to the point.

“Well,” she continues, “Clare and Rob want to walk down the aisle together.”

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