Page 22 of Unravel Me

ADAM’S ROAD TO HOPE: ONE MAN’S JOURNEY TO PUSSY PALACE

ADAM

“Welcome,everyone, to the first official meeting of ‘Adam’s Road to Hope: One Man’s Journey to Pussy Palace.’ Don’t forget to pick up a gift basket and get your time cards punched on the way out. Sangria is in the fridge, snacks are on the table, and pizza will be here in thirty.” Cara slings one leg over the other, clasps her hands together under her chin, and smiles. “Class is now in session.”

“Cara, for fuck’s sake.” I bury my face behind one hand before throwing both arms out wide. “Can we stop calling it that?”

“Class? I guess, if you want to be picky.”

“No, not class. Journey to Pussy Pal…ugh, forget it.” I sink into the couch cushions, pinning my arms over my chest and toeing at the coffee table. “Don’t even know if I want a girlfriend if she’ll be anything like you,” I grumble.

“Oh, sweetie.” She pats my hand. “You couldn’t handle me.”

“And why is Hank here?” I gesture at our old friend. “No offense, Hank. I love you, but you just feel a bit out of place at this…this…”

“At Adam’s Road to Hope: One Man’s Journey to Pussy Palace,” Cara finishes for me. “Can you believe it, Hank? Adam thinks you’re too old to be here.”

“I didn’t say that! It’s just, you know…you’re eighty-six years old.”

He grins, stroking both Bear and Dublin’s heads from where they rest in his lap. Dublin used to be his guide dog, but when he moved into a nursing home a year ago, Dublin went to live with Carter and Olivia. Hank gets all the pup snuggles from these two when he’s around.

“I’ve been told I’m quite the ladies’ man, Mr. Lockwood, even in my old age. And something about sage wisdom, blah, blah, blah.” He waves his own words off. “Why you people continue to listen to the words that come out of my mouth is beyond me, but if you need help getting women—”

“I don’t need help getting—okay, I need a little help, but I really don’t think it’s—fine, I have no idea what I’m doing.” I snatch the bowl of All Dressed chips off the table, hugging it as I toss a handful in my mouth. “Gonna die a-wone n’ wif a se-wious case ub—” I swallow “—arthritis in my wrist.”

Olivia pats my thigh. “That’s not true, Adam.”

“Yeah, Adam.” Jennie snickers. “They have toys for that so you don’t have to do any of the work yourself. You don’t have to doom yourself to a life of arthritis.”

I roll my eyes and toss a pillow at her and Cara when they high-five. I always knew Jennie had a mouth like her brother’s, but it’s been nice seeing her really come into herself since she and Garrett have been together.

“Okay.” Cara pulls out a clipboard and a pen, then slips on a pair of glasses, which she promptly slides down her nose so she can stare at me over the rim of them. “Tell us about our leading lady.”

I smash another handful of chips and frown when Olivia takes the bowl away. “Her name is Rosie.”

“Rosie!” Cara scrawls it on the paper, adds my name and a plus sign, then surrounds it with a heart. “So cute. Love it. Tell us everything.”

“Well, I met her last weekend when I was hiking with Bear. He knocked her over. She was walking a dog from the shelter she volunteers at. And she shared her sandwich with me. And she wants to be a vet. And I went back to the shelter this morning because Jaxon said I should go, and I accidentally insinuated that I liked eating her out, but I was talking about her sandwiches, and then it turns out she made two extra sandwiches for me just in case she saw me again. She’s so kind and thoughtful, and she’s really patient and sweet with the dogs. And she’s got these tiny, gold freckles on her nose, and sometimes she snorts when she laughs, and she’s got, like, honey-colored hair, but the ends are all pink, and it hangs above her shoulders, and she makes me smile a lot, and she’s just really…” I trail off as the silence around me sinks in. Four pairs of eyes watch, waiting, smiling. I swallow. “Cute.”

Olivia squeezes my hand. “She sounds so wonderful already, Adam.”

“Pink hair,” Cara murmurs.

“I want pink fucking hair,” Jennie adds.

“Sounds like you guys had a connection,” Hank pipes up. “So what do you need help with?”

“This just feels…different. I don’t want to treat this date like every other date. We might actually have a chance at something here. I want to make sure I do it right.”

“So where are you taking her on Wednesday?” Cara holds up her clipboard and grins. She’s drawn a picture of Rosie based off my description. It’s surprisingly accurate, except she has sticks for limbs. “Nailed it.”

“I’m not sure yet. Somewhere private would be nice, without the pressure.”

“What about a picnic dinner?” Jennie suggests. “That could be nice.”

“And it’ll just be the two of you, so you don’t have to worry about photographers, or people asking for signatures,” Olivia adds. “That can be really overwhelming at first. You hockey men attract attention everywhere you go.”

I nod, but a sick feeling creeps into my stomach. “There’s just, like, one super small issue.” I hold up my thumb and forefinger, peeking between the tiny gap. “Teeny tiny, really. Rosie, um…she doesn’t watch hockey.”

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