Page 59 of Wrecked

“Thanks,” I say. “I love these.”

“I remember.”

Adam has this way of doing this thing to me. He keeps an emotional distance, yet every once in a while, there’s this reminder of a past—however brief—we once shared. It was just basketball in a driveway. It was only run-ins in the kitchen of his house or at Brad’s. It was the occasional car ride when one of our parents was dropping us off at places, but it happened. It was real.

“Yeah, Brad got me hooked on ’em. He liked the raspberry.”

“You liked peach.” His eyes are serious and sad yet full of want.

I turn the bottle over and see the drink is peach iced tea.

I inhale a sharp breath. For some unknown reason, I want to cry, and I have no freaking clue why. I don’t know if it’s because my stupid knee still hurts or because memories of Brad are coming to the forefront.

Or maybe, most likely, it’s because Adam, who ignored me for years, remembers that I liked peach iced tea.

I turn around and take a drink, not wanting to look at him. I don’t react to things like this. I’m happy and fun. Sad days are the worst days. Keep on keepin’ on. That’s what my man McConaughey says, and that’s how I live. I don’t cry over peach iced tea.

I drain nearly half of the bottle and then hold it to my chest. “I think Velocity is a good idea.”

His head pops up, his brows rising. “Really?”

“Jessica is perfect for you. It’s time you started doing something for you again. Go out with a nice girl. Settle down.”

He leans forward, his teeth grazing his bottom lip. “What about you?”

My brows pop up. “Me?”

“I know you have your rule about the bar being your only love. Have you considered ditching that rule?”

With a smile, squashing the feelings boiling in my belly, I say, “I’m pretty sure I’m already in love with the perfect guy.”

“That was fast.”

“The heart wants what it wants, you know?”

Adam nods his head, those eyes downcast. “Good for you. Nice guy?”

I close my eyes and breathe, “He’s perfect.”

We sit in silence for a few moments—me holding on to the cold bottle of tea and him looking down at my knee.

“Can you give me Jessica’s number?” he asks.

If the damn tea didn’t make me cry, his words are about to. But I won’t because I can’t. “I’d love to.”

chapter THIRTEEN

Adam doesn’t take Jessica to Velocity. He takes her bowling. You know who bowls? Real couples—that’s who. It’s so Joanie and Chachi that I can’t even.

“Oh my God, I never thought I’d see the day when you stepped foot into a bowling alley!” Carolína says from behind the shoe rental counter. She’s a super-sexy Ecuadorian who fell in love with a guy on vacation and relocated to Cedar Ridge in order to be with him. For someone to move from exotic Ecuador with its gorgeous beaches and Amazon jungle to Ohio, it must really be love.

“You and me both,” I reply to her comment.

“What size are you?” she asks.

I shoo her away. “I’m just here, scouting the area,” I say, turning my back to the counter and looking around.

It’s cosmic bowling night, so the alley is darkened, the typical fluorescent lighting gone. Neon lights are illuminating the lanes with strobe lights shooting from the walls and overhead. It’s like an acid user’s paradise.