“My comp notebook—you’ve seen it before ...” I reach for it, pulse picking up pace, but he pulls it away.
“You also said you were going to get a new one.” He throws it down and puts his hands on his hips.
I stare for a few seconds, confused from my lack of sleep, conflicted feelings, and Adrian’s aggressive stance. I mentally flip through the last few conversations we’ve had and nothing suggests why he’d come in so threatening this morning.
“What’s going on, Adrian?” I place my guitar in the case and slide it under the couch.
“I hardly heard from you all week, Ember. Then I can’t get ahold of you last night, and I come in here this morning and you’ve got Cavanaugh’s present—” he stops himself and walks toward the door.
Now I’m pissed.
“Pardon me? Are you suggesting I’ve been cheating on you?” My actual voice is softer than the one in my head.
“What am I supposed to think?”
“What you’re supposed to think,” I walk toward him with clenched fists, “is that I’m honest, and I would never do something like that. Yesterday was the center’s opening. We were busy as hell all week. Last night I was exhausted and stressed—you know what? I’m not going to explain myself to you. You’re being ridiculous.” Throwing my arms in the air, I walk into the kitchen to make coffee.
How dare he insinuate that my lack of attention had to do with Bo? I was busy with work, and avoiding Bo, and getting ready for Monica and Josh’s engagement party, and avoiding Bo.
“Ember, I’m sorry. I just got nervous when I couldn’t reach you. And this friggin guitar ...” Adrian looks down and puts his hands in his pockets.
“This friggin guitar what?” I turn and rest my back against the counter.
“That’s all you’ve been doing the last few weeks...you get up in the middle of the night and write or play.” He leans his shoulder and head against the wall.
“I sing at Finnegan’s every other week, Adrian. Last week Josh had me play a little with him. I’ve been practicing ...” I look to the floor.
Truthfully, my increase in playing was an effort to help me work through my apparent “Bo” issues. Dealing with the kiss I’ve kept secret from Adrian, seeing Ainsley prance around under my nose, my flourishing relationship with Bo’s sister—it’s all become too much. I’ve been playing and writing as an outlet. The only problem is it’s made things worse—a full-blown four-alarm fire is raging in my soul. I care so much for Adrian, but I can’t reconcile how much of that is reminiscence of our past together and how much is attributed to our present. I don’t know, honestly, if my future holds Adrian. The present has been too fun to think of much else.
“You all right, Blue?” Adrian takes my hand and kisses my knuckles.
“I don’t know.” I shrug and force myself to meet his eyes.
“Look, baby, I’m sorry for freaking out. I love you, November. I want you. All day, everyday. Mine. I want to see you when I wake up in the morning and kiss you before I go to bed at night. I want to live with you—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa...whoa.” My adrenaline chooses “flight” as I put my hands up and walk back to the living room.”
“Uh-uh, Ember, you’re not walking away from me. We’re going to talk about this.” Adrian grasps my shoulders and spins me around.
“Who says they love you and they want to live with you all in the same breath?” I huff.
Someone who’s scared...that’s who.
“Don’t you love me?” He drops his arms and takes a step back.
“Adrian ...” My eyes reach for the ceiling.
Then...he pulls the rug out ...
“I know something happened with Cavanaugh.”
What?
“What?” Flames whip against my cheeks. If he was bluffing, I just gave it a way.
“The night of the concert ...” Adrian breaks his defensive stance and walks to my couch, taking a seat.
My eyes scan back and forth across the coffee table, as if it holds the answer to how he could possibly know about Bo kissing me. Monica would never out me—especially not to Adrian. The only possibility is Ainsley, but I don’t think Adrian even knows who she is. Seeing the confusion on my face, Adrian continues.
“No one said anything to me...it was you.” He bites his bottom lip and I sit next to him. He grabs my hand. “When you called to tell me you were coming, I knew something was wrong. When you came in and we had sex...you’ve never been like that before, Ember. It was crazy—it felt desperate.”
I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry.
You have to say something.
When my voice returns, I recant the entire story to Adrian. I tell him about singing in the studio, my fight with Bo, and his kiss. Adrian listens patiently, never breaking eye contact, studying my expression. I don’t lie; I tell Adrian I was furious when Bo kissed me. The conversation takes on a different tone when I tell him I went to the Cavanaugh residence to make nice.