Chapter Forty-Seven
The past ...
Adam doesn’t text or call me back.
Hours pass, and my disappointment grows with each silent moment.
I’m in bed, a glass of wine on the nightstand, my MacBook in my lap, and I’m wearing my basic PJs with butterflies on the flannel that Jess hates and has replaced with silk and satin a million times. But tonight is about feeling like me, being me, understandingme. A task I’m not certain I’m capable of achieving. The truth is, I felt as if Adam was helping me travel a path of discovery.
Was I too hard on him?
Did I freak out over something that should have been romantic, would have been, in fact, to anyone else? But to me, I made it creepy?
Should I call him?
Instead, I open the dating app with no real purpose, not even sure what it is that I am looking for right now. My message box flashes, telling me I have ten new messages. I click on the icon, and the first message is from Kevin. Guilt jabs at me, all prickly and sharp, reminding me that I was wrong about him. Then again, I remind myself, he hit on my best friend and was a jerk about it as well.
It’s right then that another message hits my inbox. This one is from Adam.
Mia,
I understand that you feel betrayed, but what you see as a betrayal, I see as me being spontaneous and romantic. I truly feel that if you believed in yourself more than you do, if you saw yourself as I do, you would have as well. Instead, you saw a stalker being creepy. We both know that’s because you didn’t think anyone who wasn’t a creep would do such a thing for you.
Well, I’m not a creep despite the fact that you all but told me I am tonight.
And you’re not unworthy, despite the fact that you always feel that you are.
If this is the last communication we have, remember this ...
You’re a beautiful woman hiding in the shell of an existence too small for what you deserve, Mia. All I ever wanted was to lead you on a journey of self-discovery.
—Adam
I blink at the words, read them again, and again, and swallow hard. A journey of self-discovery? Does he mean sexually? The idea both terrifies and excites me. A little. I don’t know. I think it should excite mea lot. I’m a little deprived of male attention, but I’m just weird with Adam. Interested, afraid, confused. I read the message again.
The words are written in past tense, as if he’s done with me.
What am I doing? He’s gorgeous. He’s successful. He wants me. What girl doesn’t want a man like this one to want her?
What have I done? What haveI done?
My hands hover over the keyboard with the intent of replying, not even sure what to say, until finally I just type what I really feel.I’m sorry. You’re right. People like you don’t happen to me, Adam. I was just confused. The truth is, I still am, but I don’t think you’re a creep. I think—my fingers freeze a moment before I dare to add—I think you’re pretty wonderful.
Seconds tick by, then a full minute, then two. No reply. I set my MacBook aside, throw off the blankets and sit up, pressing my hands to my face.What have I done?
My cellphone rings, and I jump, standing and staring at it as if it will bite me. I grab it and check the caller ID. It’s Adam. Drawing in a breath, with a trembling hand—good Lord, I’m so very nervous—I hit the answer button. “Hello.”
“Hello,Mia,” he says, and the deep, intimate baritone of his voice does funny things to my belly.
“Adam,” I reply, deciding the way he says my name is a good thing, not a bad thing. I do want to be seen, at least by him.
“Now that you know I wrote the notes, wear your hair down for me tomorrow.”
Butterflies do a fluttery schoolgirl dance routine in my chest, and I am more alive than I have ever been before this moment. “Does that mean I get to meet you in person?”
“You’re not ready yet. Wear your hair down.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
