Page 62 of Unravel Me

“Meeting someone where they’re at isn’t always about finding a way to relate to what they’ve gone through. He shared something and you listened, which is all he could really ask for. What’s going on in your head is your own business. Your feelings are valid and you need to process them, and look at you, doing it right now. You don’t need to punish yourself because you immediately made assumptions about someone else.”

It makes sense, all of it, and Archie’s always been this person for me, the one who hears my thoughts and validates all of them before helping me through the other side. It takes me a while to get there sometimes, that’s all.

“Hey.” He cups my face, forcing my eyes to his. “You spent a long time convincing yourself you weren’t lovable because nobody chose you. You wanted to be someone’s first choice, and you weren’t. But we aren’t for everyone. There’s always been something better waiting for you.” He points to Connor. “You’re that little boy’s first and only choice. And you’ll be someone else’s first choice when it comes to love too. Maybe it’ll be Adam, maybe it won’t. But what matters most, Rosie, is that you’re your own first choice. Love yourself for exactly who you are and where you’re at, mistakes, imperfections, and all. The people who are going to choose you will love all your pieces, not just some of them.”

* * *

“Come on. Just one quick glimpse at his Instagram.”

“Absolutely not.”

Marco shakes his phone at me, the same way he’s been doing for the last hour while trying to pry Adam’s last name out of me so he and Archie can snoop his profile. “Come on. Don’t you wanna see if he’s got any pictures of his exes?”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.” The last thing I want to do is compare myself to any woman he’s dated in the past. I work hard to be happy with the way I look, and it’s not always easy. Comparison is the thief of joy.

“Okay, we don’t care about exes. That’s good. Can’t you just show your hot boyfriend off to your besties?”

“He doesn’t have social media,” I lie lazily, ignoring that boyfriend label that we haven’t discussed.

“What kind of a loser doesn’t have social media in this day and age?”

I pin my arms across my chest and scowl at Marco’s ridiculous, toothy grin as Archie hides behind a couch cushion. “Me.” The buzzer by the door rings and I race over to it, thinking it might be Adam. “Hello?”

“I’ve, uh…” The unknown voice on the other side clears his throat. “Got a couple of…packages…for Rosie Wells?”

“Oh. Okay. I’ll be down in a minute.” I scoop my bag up and frown at Archie. “That’s weird, I don’t remember ordering anything.”

“Mhmm,” he hums, folding his lips into his mouth. “So weird.”

“I’ll grab the packages and wait out front for Adam. See you later.”

“Byyye,” Archie calls over his shoulder.

“Nice choice on the dress,” Marco adds. “Easy access.”

Easy access.Psssh.Please.It’s not like I’m hoping to feel Adam’s hands on my legs during the movie tonight, below the stars at the drive-in. I’m absolutelynotdreaming of his fingers sliding higher, dipping below the hem of my dress in the dark. And I didnotwear my prettiest pair of pink silk panties in hopes that he might touch them, or better yet, see them.

Absolutely not.

Okay, fine, but it’s not my fault. We’ve been spending so much time together, with Connor and without, and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed every single time that man has put his tongue in my mouth over the last week. I’m starting to crave…I don’t know exactly, but more. A little bit more. Sue me for hoping I might get it tonight.

The elevator pops open, revealing the very man I can’t stop thinking about, his head down as he examines the plethora of brightly colored packages swept up in his arms.

“Adam. Hey. I was just coming down to get those. You didn’t have to…” My words trail as his face slowly lifts, mouth hanging open, cheeks pink. At the same time I note the look in his eyes—intrigued, and yet, slightly scared—I note the faint buzzing sound coming from one of the packages.

Adam takes a step toward me, and I take one back, hand at my throat in case I need to squeeze it to stop from, oh, I don’t know, throwing up?

“What’s that?” I whisper, but I already know.

Adam takes another careful step toward me, then another, until I’m plastered against the wall. “Uh, the delivery guy…he was…and I was coming in to get you…and so I thought…” He opens his mouth, then pauses, brows pulled down like he’s lost for words. “And then I…and then this one…” He holds up the buzzing package, at least eight inches in length, hot pink with neon yellow letters that readFOR HER PLEASUREall over it. Adam swallows, and blood thunders in my ears. “It started…vibrating.”

“I didn’t buy those,” I blurt out. “I-I-I…I didn’t.” Adam’s mouth quirks, a tiny tug on one side, like he either doesn’t believe me or suddenly finds this horrific situation…endearing. And I don’t know why—I should be squeezing my throat, stopping it—but I go for it: word vomit. “Archie told me to and I said no but he-he-he never listens to me and I haven’t had an orgasm in a long time and never with another person.” My hands fly to my mouth, slapping over my gasp, eyes wide. “Oh my God. I can’t believe I just said that.”

I clear my throat, scooping the several packages out of Adam’s arms and into my own. “Excuse me for a moment.”

It starts a casual stroll back down the hall but turns into an angry, fast stomp.

“Figured you’d be back,” Archie mumbles when I burst through the door.

---