Page 40 of Dear Adam
Emma frowns, pausing for a second before saying, “At least try to have fun tonight, okay?”
“One of us has to, considering you’re going to bed,” I say with a glower.
“And I couldn’t be more excited to dive under those covers and snuggle up with a bag of gummy worms. You know, I agreed to work for you because I thought this job would be fun. Turns out, it’s more stressful than the time when I was a paranormal tour guide.”
“If you keep going to bed with gummy worms, your teeth are going to rot. Also, I still don’t understand why you, the person who has to turn on HGTV after seven p.m. because it’s the only channel that doesn’t play trailers for upcoming scary movies, took that job.”
“The pay was good! Plus, the boss was hot. The only reason I quit was because my doctor was considering putting me on blood pressure medication.”
“That guy had frosted tips and wore a denim blazer. He wasnothot.”
Emma shrugs, and I follow her to the front door where she locks up and we walk outside. Pretzel gives me an approving lick on the chin when I slide her swim goggles on and strap her to my chest, which feels like second nature now.
“I can’t believe I haven't seen a meme of this somewhere on the internet yet.” Emma doesn’t even bother to hide her laugh, simply shakes her head in disbelief and walks to her car.
After I've dropped Pretzel off at home, I push open the door to Adam’s room, the beeping and whirring of the machines hooked up to him still something I’m unable to get used to. There’s a stuffed weenie dog tucked beside him, a sign that someone else has visited him recently, and my spirits lift, knowing he hasn’t spent the day alone.
I pull a chair out and scoot it to the edge of his bed.
“Happy Fourth,” I say, pushing the hair off his forehead and lightly tracing the scar there. “I wish we could watch the fireworks together.” I wait for something, any sign he’s heard me. If he could only squeeze my hand, anything to let me know he can hear me…but he doesn’t. Instead, beeping fills the silence, and I let out a weary exhale.
“I need to tell you something,” I say, quietly and take his hand between mine. “I know you can’t hear me right now, but not telling you doesn’t feel right. Levi has been a good friend to me while you’ve been gone, and I’m starting to realize I have feelings for him. I’ve tried to ignore them, but I can’t. I know he’s your best friend, and I’m so sorry, Adam. But he makes me happy…really happy.”
Between my palms, Adam’s hand twitches, and my pulse spikes.
Can he…can hehearme?
I stare at it, willing it to happen again. “Adam?” I ask. For another hour, I sit there, praying that twitch wasn’t some kind of fluke. When it doesn’t happen again, I reluctantly push my chair back and give him a kiss on the forehead. I consider telling the doctors what happened, but decide against it, somehow knowing in my heart he heard me.
Before leaving, I push the curtains on his window back in hopes that the firework show somehow makes it to this side of the hospital so he can see.
After visiting Adam, I’m putting the finishing touches on my hair when a knock comes at my door.
“Come on in!” I yell, and then immediately hope to God it’s Levi and not some creep. I quickly close the bathroom door and peek out through the crack.
“Oh good, it’s just you,” I say with a wipe of my brow opening the door wider when Levi rounds the corner.
“What are you doing?” He’s wearing a red, white, and blue button-up shirt, and I can’t help but notice the top two buttons are undone, leaving a section of his tan, hard, and broad chest out for all to see. I barely catch a glimpse of the tattoo on his pec when he notices me staring and shifts uncomfortably.
“A compass?” I want to reach out and peel back his shirt to get a better look, but from the way he’s shifting from one foot to the other, I can tell he’s uneasy.
He dips his head and lowers his voice when he says, “I got it in California. I wanted to be reminded that no matter where I am, I always know the way home.”
“It’s beautiful,” I tell him. “Can I see it?”
Shyly, he pulls back his shirt, giving me permission to stare unabashedly at his muscular chest. Unable to resist the urge any longer, I trace the compass lightly with my index finger. His tan skin quivers underneath my touch, and I suppress a satisfied smile, knowing I have that effect on him.
“Why were you hiding behind the door like a weirdo?” he asks when I reluctantly pull my hand back. I shove it into my pocket, afraid if I don’t, they’ll roam as they please over the rest of his body.
“After I said to come in, I realized you could’ve been a serial killer.” He shakes his head and lets out a little chuckle. Defensively, I add, “You never know. I’m almost done, though. I just need to swipe on some mascara and I’ll be ready.”
He’s leaned up against the doorframe and there’s only a few inches of space between the top of his head and the opening. How have I never noticed how tall is he? He’s not wearing his usual ball cap, and he’s styled his hair with something that smells piney and citrusy. My pheromones practically squeal.
“Aly?” Levi asks.
“Huh?” I ask, mid-mascara swipe. I’m so close to the mirror, my breath fogs the surface and I swipe at it with a towel.
“I asked why you’re making that face?” He’s staring intently at my reflection in the mirror with a cocky grin. I immediately snap my mouth shut, which had been wide open in the shape of an O.
