In a flash, Adrian’s lips are on mine, his tongue thrashes desperately through my mouth. I try to pull my head back but his fingers thread tightly through my hair. I want to give in to it; to submit to the physical intoxication that is Adrian, but I can’t. I have to respect myself, and this certainly isn’t the way to do it. Adrian pulls away from me and, with swollen lips, starts to speak.
“Because I’m addicted to you, Blue. Five years of withdrawal was torture without you in my life. I need you.” He unwinds his hands from my hair and glides them down my shoulders before stepping back and leaning against the counter with clenched fists.
We’re addicts. Co-dependent on lust. We’re sick with it, and sick without it. At least without it we have the option to heal. My tears have stopped, and my breathing has returned to normal. I stare at the broken glass across the apartment before returning to Adrian’s glare.
“That’s not healthy, Adrian. It’s not healthy that you’re addicted to me, and it’s not healthy that I feel the same about you. Too much will never be enough for us. You tell me you love me when you’re scared, and I ignore who I am to escape with you.”
“That’s all I’ve ever been to you? A fucking escape?” Adrian slams his fist down on the island, and I wonder if granite can crack.
“I never meant to hurt you in college, Adrian. God, we were barely twenty-one! A lot has happened between then and now, but the fact remains that we’re too much for each other.”
His ragged breathing returns as he takes one step forward. I take one back.
“Have you been with him?” His tone drops an octave to the one called “calculating.”
“No. I’ve told you that. Twice now.”
“What do you mean ignore who you are?” His jaw ripples beneath the surface of his frown.
“This isn’t me, Adrian. This penthouse, the doorman, the valet. It’s just not me. I’m beer, beaches, and guitars. That’s who I’ve always been.”
Adrian slowly lifts his chin and studies me from head to toe. He turns around mechanically and walks down the hallway, as I stand frozen in silence. He returns with his Princeton hoodie, the one I always wear, the one I always wore back then. He tosses it in my direction but I let it fall at my feet while I wait for him to speak.
“Adrian ...” I start, but he cuts me off without looking at me. He’s staring at Princeton on the floor. Faded orange sleeves and tattered blue lettering.
“I never had you, did I? I never stood a chance.” He turns his back before continuing. “Get out of my apartment. I don’t ever want to see you again.” The finality in his voice sends chills through my body. “Go!”
Startled, I jump with my hand on the doorknob. Adrian laces his fingers together behind his neck, takes a deep breath, and looks up a the ceiling. I look between the sweatshirt and his back. With a quiet deep breath I leave the sweatshirt—and everything it represents—alone in the apartment with Adrian. I hold it together down the private elevator, through the private corridor, and past the well-dressed doorman. I manage a polite “thank you” to the valet when he hands me my keys, before pulling into the parking garage and sobbing until I have nothing left.
I’m hopelessly, helplessly in love with Bo Cavanaugh. My fears, my indecisions, and my insecurities have swirled a bitter cocktail of regret in my soul. When the tears are gone and the raw pain of my decisions sears through my nerves, I drive back to Barnstable.
I have to get my shit together.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Work has provided the perfect focal point over the last week. I’ve had a few business calls with Rae, but everything with the community center is going smoothly. There’s not much that needs to be done on my end right now. I miss it. I miss DROP’s halls and Rae’s smiling face everyday. I miss him.The constant anxiety I felt for half of every week for the last several weeks hasn’t been replaced. It’s just...gone. I miss him.
Monica was shocked to find me back at my apartment last Sunday after Adrian and I broke up. I couldn’t run to Bo without making sure I was a whole person first. I’ve been questioning what it was, exactly, that made me bail in Concord. It was fear, many different kinds of fear. I was scared of Bill and Tristan, and confused at Bo’s involvement. I was scared, wondering if there were other secrets. Mostly, I was scared of our pace. We fell in love in an instant; a split second blink and my entire world shifted. I was scared that it wasn’t real...or that it was. That still scares me.
With Josh and Monica on vacation at his parents’ house, I’ve been able to go home from work, write, play my guitar, and sleep. There have been tears. Lots of tears. But, I let them come this time. I’m looking forward to playing at Finnegan’s tonight. With Josh out of town, Regan’s taking over guitar and vocals. Rae smiles at Regan from the crowd as we warm up.
“She’s great, isn’t she?” I whisper to Regan between vocal checks.
“She’s amazing.” His grin is infectious. “How are you holding up, Kid?”