He smiles at me. “I’m done with the questions.”
“But…” Why am I panicking? Maybe because of the idea that once he’s done with this piece…he’ll be done with me. Sure, he offered to cook dinner with me in a week. But what then? What about kissing in the woods? My brain feels like it’s malfunctioning, words flying by at hyperspeed, devoid of all meaning. I swallow.
“But…” he says warmly. Right. I never finished my sentence.
“But what about coming over? You’ve never been inside Nadia’s before. I could show you more stuff that might be helpful for your piece.” I rack my brain. “Old photos and things like that.”
“Ah.” Adam stands and stretches. I try very hard not to gaze at the sliver of his underbelly becoming exposed in the process. I fail. “That does sound helpful, actually. Why don’t we plan on something for…I don’t know. Sunday?”
“Sunday?”
“Sure. Why don’t I come over and bring you food. Since you’re always bringing Gramps food.”
“Oh.” I look down, thinking. “Well. Sure.”
We settle on a time, and after that, I help him load the dishwasher. When I finish washing my hands, the night has fully arrived outside, the streetlamps having lit up orange in the darkness. “I better get going,” I say.
“Yeah. I have to get up early myself.” Adam smiles at me. “I actually got a temporary job helping that guy fix up his house right there.” He points just behind me. “He bought it to flip it, but it needs a lot more work than he anticipated.”
I remember that neighbor, from when I was a ghost, wandering all the neighborhood homes, looking for secrets and other signs of life…“He’s been trying to get that house ready for flipping for a while.” I smile at him. “I’m happy for you. Congratulations on your new job.”
“New temporary job,” Adam clarifies.
“Right. The temporary job.” His emphasis ontemporarymakes me wonder if his time in Cranberry, too, is temporary. Will I wake up one day, and he’s back in New York City? Living the big-city life, having adventures with a big-city woman?
Probably, to be honest. He lived there for almost all of his adult life, since the second he graduated high school. He obviously couldn’t wait to get out of here. It’s something I need to remember. No matter how much we end up…doing things…like kissing inside an ancient oak tree. I have to remember to protect my heart.
I walk toward the door and smile at him. “Have a good—”
“Wait a second.” He puts his hand on mine, reaching for the knob. “What just happened to you? What are you thinking about?”
I tilt my head. “Come again?”
“You were doing that smile of yours. The real smile. And then it turned into…I don’t know. NotSky’ssmile. A pretend smile.”
“Oh. That.” I close my eyes briefly. “I was just thinking about how you’re going to move away soon.” Oh God. Why did I say the truth? Now he’s going to think I’m a too-attached creeper.
“Wait, who said that?” He furrows his brows.
“I…no one. I just assumed—”
“I don’t have any plans to move. I’m staying with Gramps and taking care of him. I mean, yeah, I moved in because my life imploded. But after being here for a bit, it’s clear to me that he needs care. He’s been lying to me about his independence and abilities.” Adam runs a hand over his hair and his face. “And I get it. He’s proud as hell. But he needs help.”
“Oh. Sorry.” I glance down at my shoes. “I didn’t mean to assume. I just thought you wanted to write my article as fast as possible so you could get yourTimesjob back, or another big-time job—”
“Sky.” He takes one step closer, his gaze lowering to my lips for about half a second before he tears it toward my own. “I can do that kind of work virtually.”
“Virtually,” I repeat, because his proximity and the scent of him—the sea, the forest, the sky—are scrambling my brain.
“Yeah.” He reaches behind me, his arm grazing my hip as he opens the door. His shoulder is to my shoulder, his head just behind me, and he shifts so his voice is at my ear as he says in a lower, firm voice, “I’m not going anywhere.”
I nod. I manage, somehow, to mumble good night and bid him farewell, and stumble out into the night. He watches me until I’m safe inside Nadia’s. I know this because I watched him through the window when I got inside.
I walk upstairs and get through my whole bedtime ritual—the shower, the skincare, the braiding of my hair. I grab my phone and there are two messages.
The first is from Amá Sonya:Sky Temple Flores. You told me you were not being courted by that man.She adds:We will be having lunch early next week to discuss how you can gracefully remove yourself from your current mistakes.
I roll my eyes and delete the messages without responding. If she’s mad about my “dating” Adam, then she hasn’t heard about the rumors over her own declining memory. I guess that’s the silver lining. If Amá knew that I had spread a lie that made her look bad? She’d be speeding on the highway to get here and berate me in person and probably throw some of her Chanel stilettos at me, too.
