Page 89 of Sky Full of Stars

Adam looks at his wine glass taking in a deep breath. “You know I’m not like him right?”

“No, I know,” I reassure him. “That’s not what the problem was. It was Elsa. I guess she thought there was more to their relationship.”

He put his glass down. “I didn’t know that. Nick never said.”

“Nick obviously doesn’t see it like she does,” I point out.

“I can’t really speak for him, Jen,” he tells me.

“I’m not expecting you to, that’s not what this is, I promise. I just know how it feels.” His face drops and I rush on. “I’m talking about Lance, dumb ass.”

“Ah,” he nods. “Shit, yeah. That must have been tough for her to see.”

“I really like her, we’ve already arranged to meet up when she comes to New York in a couple of months. I just didn’t know how this would work with you being friends with Nick and, me and you...”

“What the guys do is up to them, you know. We don’t get involved in each other’s shit. Well, apart from me and Arch, but it’s a little different with him.”

“Yeah,” I took a sip of wine. “I just feel bad for her. She went home and couldn’t rely on her friends. They are vapid and self-absorbed. I got the feeling this will make them happy.”

“It’s a hazard of the job I guess. I don’t think Nick will have done it purposely to hurt her. They must be on different pages.”

He’s trying to be nice but doesn’t want to get involved. It was a guy thing I guess. And I don’t want to spend my last night here talking about someone else’s problems, even if I do feel bad for Elsa. I will text later to make sure she’s okay.

“You want to take a walk?” Adam asks, standing up and stacking the empty boxes.

“Yeah that sounds nice,” I help him clear up then grab one of Adam’s hoodies.

“I like you in my clothes,” he wraps an arm around me, tucking me tight to him.

“I’m obviously taking this home with me.”

“Can I keep your underwear?”

I slap his stomach and give him an indignant look, he just laughs like he was going to do it whether I want him to or not. We walk off the meal and head home as it gets chillier.

He takes me to bed as soon as we get back, we don’t get much sleep and in the morning he makes me breakfast in bed, then concedes to my pestering and plays me a part of the song he is writing, but he refuses to let me see the lyrics he’d written.

As happy as we are, it doesn’t take away the bad feeling about me leaving.

“Three weeks,” he says as we drive to the airport. He looks about as forlorn as I feel.

“We’ll be so busy we won’t have time to get too sad,” I tell him.

“And I set you up with Zoom,” he gives me a wink.

“Yeah, I’m still not sure about that.”

“I’ll convince you,” he waggles his eyebrows.

He can’t take me into the airport, it isn’t worth the hassle of dealing with the paparazzi or any fans, plus I’m still twitchy about being photographed. His manager sorted out the whole pregnancy debacle. They threatened the woman with legal action and she backed off, issuing a statement through her own agent, that she made a mistake. But she’d gained the notoriety, which Adam said was her end goal all along. I hate people used him this way.

“Call me when you land,” he says for the hundredth time. I swear I will. “And make sure that Joey guy keeps his hands to himself.”

“Adam,” I admonish.

“What?” he holds out his hands. I reach for one and squeeze. “You know I’m just trying to keep you in the car.”

“I know,” I say softly.

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