Don't Let Me Go. J.H. Trumble

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      Chapter 11

      The rest of the month passed in agonizing, heart-rending, mind-screaming seconds, minutes, and days. There were too few phone calls from Adam and too many from me, most of which ended in a one-sided conversation with Adam’s voicemail, and with me trying desperately but failing miserably to not sound needy and a little pathetic. He Skyped at night, always late, and almost always from the bathroom. There were those nights that he was so tired, he just said good night, then headed off to bed. I sometimes waited all day to talk to him, and that was all I got—a few seconds with the guy I loved sitting on a toilet.

      The job helped.

      A little.

      Actually, not much at all.

      August 22

      His flight arrived at the gate two minutes early at 10:32. I met him at baggage claim, but he had only a carry-on, so by 10:47 we were all over each other in my car in the parking garage. I couldn’t believe he was here. I wanted to look at him, touch him, kiss him. No. That wasn’t quite right. I wanted to devour him.

      “Can we go someplace?” he asked, breathless.

      I groped blindly for the key already in the ignition, anxious to get him alone but reluctant to let him go long enough to get him there. “My house,” I breathed into his mouth, allowing my hands to travel across as many parts of him as possible before I let go. “Mom left right after I did. She’s taking Grandma to visit her sister.”

      I pulled up to the curb, and we raced each other to the front door. I fumbled with the key even as we kissed. He bit my ear and pressed me against the door, his eagerness for me and mine for him grown so obvious that we should have been plastered with a warning label like they put on aerosol cans. Caution: Contents under pressure.

      “Hurry up,” Adam breathed, his hands under my shirt now, his fingers raking across my chest.

      “I’m trying, but you’re distracting me.”

      “It’s just a key.”

      “I know it’s just a key, but I can’t get it in the damn hole.”

      He giggled and turned me so I was facing the door. “Now concentrate,” he said, then slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of my shorts, making it impossible for me to carry out my mission, except that somehow I did. I pushed the door in with my shoulder and we stumbled across the threshold, still groping at each other and panting.

      “SURPRISE!”

      HONK.

      I gasped as Mom and Grandma, Juliet and Mike, and Gaby and Warren (another former leading lady slash mistaken romantic rival and her talented actor boyfriend—Adam’s friends, and now mine too) suddenly appeared from around the corner, all with party hats and horns poised at their lips. And then just as suddenly the room went utterly silent. Adam quietly removed his hands from my pants and slid behind me.

      Mom blushed and turned away, but Juliet took a good long look at my lap and laughed. “Looks like the party started early.”

      “Do you mind?” I said.

      “Not at all,” she said.

      I gave Mike a pleading look and he covered Juliet’s eyes. Not exactly what I had in mind, but, okay. Thank goodness Gaby had the good manners to look away.

      “All right, everybody, show’s over,” Grandma said, herding everybody toward the dining room. “Time for cake.” Turning back and in a voice that bubbled with amusement, she told us she was lighting the candles and we had about one minute to put those things, as she called them, away.

      Adam snickered behind me and kissed my neck.

      “Just kill me now,” I said.

      He laughed. “Here, let me help you put that away. Grandma’s orders.”

      “Quit that,” I said, twisting away and trying not to be too loud, but laughing anyway. “Shit.”

      “I guess your mom didn’t leave after all.”

      “The liar.” I shook out my shorts and tried to get everything back in its place. Adam looked down and stuck his lower lip out in a pout. I strummed his lip with my finger and grinned. “You are so getting some of that later.”

      He shook his head as if to clear it. “Come on. Let’s get you all birthdayed up so I can get you alone. You’re spending the night at my house.”

      I made a wish (Go home, people! Honestly, my mind was firmly in the gutter.), I blew out the candles, I opened a few presents, and then I willed them to leave. I tried to at least look like I was listening to the conversation, but Adam’s eyes kept flicking to mine from across the table, making me squirm. I nudged Juliet under the table. She pretended not to notice, so I nudged her again, harder. A grinned played at her lips.

      Finally, just when I was about ready to scream my wish—GO HOME!—Juliet stood up and announced СКАЧАТЬ