Picking Up the Pieces (Pieces, #2)(30)

Did he think I’d gone alone because of him? I’d gone alone because of myself. Maybe it had been a mistake to talk about Europe. Maybe I should tell him about CrossFit or my masturbation attempt. Shit. I needed to get the attention off of me before I said something stupid. “Did you go anywhere fun this summer?” I asked, hoping to alleviate some of the tension that seemed to have settled over the table since Adam’s arrival.

“The beach.”

Oookay. Guess we’re sticking with short answers. I sat for a moment, listening to the sound of both of us sipping on our drinks, the cappuccino machines steaming behind the counter, the meaningless chatter of the employees. “Are we gonna talk about what happened between us?” I asked suddenly.

My question not only seemed to surprise Adam, it also surprised me. But I was immediately glad I’d said it.

Adam’s face softened as he seemed to be deciding how to respond. “I don’t know. Should we?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe. We're not doing so well attempting to talk about anything else.”

Adam moved his coffee cup between his hands nervously. “Nothing either one of us can say will change what happened last spring. I’m not sure if we should even be doing this right now.” Finally, Adam looked up, and his eyes met mine. “I just . . . when I saw you the other day . . . I couldn’t not see you again.”

I wasn’t sure what I saw on his face as he said those words: I couldn’t not see you again. Behind his composed exterior, I was sure I’d seen pain. Pain that I’d caused. But I also thought I saw a spark of hope glistening in his eyes as he looked at me. Hope that maybe, despite everything we’d been through, everything I’d done, this time might be different. “I couldn't not see you either,” I said quietly.

Adam’s tongue swept across his lips before he spoke. “We . . . we were never really friends. We had feelings for each other so quickly after we met. I just can’t do that again." His eyes bore into mine, as if he saw some secret answer written there.

I tried hard to maintain my upright posture. But inside, I was slumped over so far my head hit the table. I’m not sure when I had allowed myself to get my hopes up, but I had. And his words were like a knife to the chest.

When he resumed speaking, his voice was low and I mentally braced myself for his imminent rejection. “I have to protect myself this time.”

Wait . . . what? Did he say “this time”?

"So can we try that first?” he continued. “Try to be friends? See where things go?”

It took me a moment to register that he hadn’t told me to go to hell and burn there for all of eternity. It took every fiber of willpower I possessed to prevent myself from leaping over the table and dry-humping his leg. “Friends,” I replied with a genuine smile, which he returned. “Well now that the elephant’s out of the room, let’s have a normal conversation. Oh, and another cup of coffee,” I said shaking my cup to show it was now empty.

Adam chuckled softly as he rose to throw my cup away and get me another. The look on my face must have let him know I didn’t know what was funny.

“At the coffeehouse . . .” he explained, “talking about elephants. Did you ever read that book by the way?” he smirked.

Water for Elephants. How could I forget? “Yeah,” I laughed, “actually I did.”

“See, now we have something to talk about. Caramel macchiato, right?” he asked as he turned toward the counter casually, not even really waiting for me to reply.

“Actually,” I said, “make it a mocha latte.”

“Mocha latte?” he asked, his voice raising in disbelief. “When did you change?”

I shrugged, a shy smile gracing my lips. “I’m not really sure.”





Chapter 14: Max


"So how many people are coming?"

"Should be about twenty. I didn't want anything too huge."

Trevor turned his head in the direction I had been absently staring at while we talked. "Are we waiting for someone in particular?"

Sharply snapping my head back to him, I let loose with an uneasy grin. I hadn't realized I'd been staring until he called my attention to it. "Uh, no. Just my parents," I offered quickly.

"Right," he said with a smirk, clearly knowing that I was lying.

In that moment, I hated how well he knew me. I guess that’s what happens when you keep friends around that you met in elementary school. They get really good at reading you. Though it probably wasn't all that difficult to see through my excuse. Lily and I had fallen into a comfortable friendship, talking a few times a week and even hanging out every once in a while.

I couldn't resist immediately looking back at the entrance to the private room my parents had rented for my birthday. It was a Monday—a shitty night for a party—but I liked celebrating my birthday on the actual day. Who wouldn't want to honor the day I came into the world? That was a great f*cking day. Not that I remember it, but I'm sure it was.

My parents had wanted to throw me a party, and I relented because, well, who wouldn't want a party? But my mom had also insisted because, as she said, "You only turn thirty once." I wanted to counter that I remember her turning forty-nine quite a few times, but decided to keep that comment to myself. I had kept the guest list small because I wanted everyone to be comfortable and have a good time. Once you start inviting agents, former teammates, and business associates, shit gets out of hand. And I would also have had to spend more time glad-handing and kissing ass than I was up for on my birthday. So my mom had contacted a local restaurant and rented one of their back rooms. My only stipulation was that the room had a bar, and she hadn't let me down.