Read Picking Up the Pieces Online

Authors: Elizabeth Hayley

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Sports, #Contemporary Fiction

Picking Up the Pieces (13 page)

BOOK: Picking Up the Pieces
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Chapter
15: Adam

 

Lily and I had hung out a few times over the past two plus weeks. We’d done little things together that usually just consisted of grabbing a bite to eat after I’d finished work and before Eva got home from whatever activity she had that day. So far, we’d taken things slowly: a hug when we greeted each other, a quick peck on the cheek to say goodbye. But adults can only tolerate that pace for so long before someone takes things further. And since neither of us had, the sexual tension between the two of us was palpable.

Eva had plans to sleep at a
friend’s on Saturday night and would be going to church with her friend’s family the following day. So Lily and I spent Sunday morning together. The weather for late November had been unseasonably warm lately, so Lily suggested we go for a walk at a nearby state park.

With my hand locked around hers, I guided her through the paths in the woods slowly, impressing her with some of the dorky facts I still remembered from Boy Scouts twenty years ago.
Or maybe she was more just pretending to be impressed. It made me feel good either way.

Eventually, the woods opened to an expansive field full of tall feather
reed grass that came to just above our knees. I gazed at Lily as she made her way toward the middle of the field and looked up to the sky. “You look beautiful,” I said, as the warm sun caressed her face and brought out the subtle highlights in her hair.

A goofy expression came over her as she glanced down, tugging at her cream colored North Face jacket and motioning to her jeans and sneakers.
“In this?” she asked.

I noticed, for the first time, a kind of humble shyness in her.
She had no idea just how gorgeous she really was. “Not what you’re
wearing
,” I said, stepping toward her until I was close enough to stroke the smooth skin on her cheek with my thumb. “You.”

The need to kiss her
—really
kiss
her—had been unbearable in that moment. It was as if a physical pull was guiding our mouths to each other. I hesitated a moment before allowing my desire to dictate my actions. But once it did, I lost the restraint I’d fought so hard to maintain with her. And as our lips touched, that pull I’d felt seconds before had already grown stronger, urging our eager tongues to collide with one another. We lost ourselves as I licked the inside of her mouth until the taste of sweet mint and her mango flavored lip gloss coated my own lips.

It seemed as if one kiss had brought us back in time to months ago, when our passion and need for each other had gone well beyond a physical one.
I could tell Lily felt it too as her fingertips scratched my back through my sweatshirt, pulling me closer.

But before we could take the kiss any further, I broke it, pulling away slowly
, my teeth tugging at her bottom lip before letting go. I stroked the small of her back and cradled her head in my hand, our foreheads touching and our mouths only millimeters apart.

A passionate moment had been only that: a moment.
And the brevity of our intimate encounter could only be attributed to my own insecurities.

***

I spent much of the next few days attempting to ignore my growing feelings for her.
I’d
been the one who’d wanted to take things slowly. But that kiss had given way to emotions I would rather have left untouched. I couldn’t get a handle on myself and my feelings. Part of me was like a horny teenager excited just to be around her. And another part was a crotchety old bastard who’d been burned by the love of his life and was royally pissed about it. The worst of it was that I felt like a total pussy. I didn’t want to be the guy who got involved with some chick who had already proven herself to be untrustworthy. If she could do that bullshit to me once, she could do it again. But . . . “Fuck,” I growled as I banged my palm on the steering wheel.

Thinking these things did nothing to help my mood, and sitting in traffic on the Schuylkill Expressway on Thanksgiving Eve wasn't making it any better.
I looked at the clock on my dashboard. My fifteen year reunion would be starting in twenty minutes, and I was stuck on the goddamn highway. Of all nights, why did they plan these fucking things for the most traveled day of the year?

I was on edge and exasperated, but it wasn’t just because of the traffic.
I sunk back into my seat a little and tried to examine the “But.”
But
I didn’t think she’d do it again. I had no idea why I thought that, but I did. I would’ve nearly bet my life that she wouldn’t do it again. Would I have made that same bet seven months ago? I was so sure of my answer, it sent a thrill through my body.
No, I wouldn’t have.
Because deep down, I knew something was shady. Not wanting it to be true, I ignored my instincts and trusted Lily when I shouldn’t have.
But
I wasn’t going in blind this time. I had a better grasp on what I wanted out of our relationship now. I wouldn't settle for less than all of her.

             
However, this brought on a whole list of other concerns, the biggest being that I wasn’t fully sure I
wanted
all of her. When I was with her, I was consumed by her: enamored by her beauty, captivated by her personality, and desirous of her body. But when we weren’t together, I wasn’t sure that we actually fit all that well together. I could see a life with Lily, but I couldn’t see her in
my
life. Or maybe it was more that I was afraid that I'd let her back in just to have it all go to hell again. It was all this baffling bullshit that had kept me from really pressing our relationship beyond friends-who-make-out status.

             
There had been quite a few occasions where it had been impossible to keep from wrapping my arms around her as I stood behind her
nuzzling her neck, or grabbing her hand and pulling her to me so that I could feel her chest swell against mine as I grazed her lips softly. But I hadn’t taken it further, and it was killing me. I had jerked off more in the past two weeks than I had in the previous two months. But I didn’t want to be a prick and bang her only to
realize that I didn’t want to pursue anything with her. Even though part of me felt like that would serve her right, I didn’t want to sink to that level.
I wasn’t an asshole. And I sure as shit wasn’t going to be a casual fuck to her like that cocksucker Max Samson had been.
God, I fucking hate that douche.

             
I pulled into the parking garage across the street from The Pitchfork forty minutes later.
Why did we need to have our reunion in Philly when we went to school almost thirty minutes outside of it?
Deciding that the organizers were clearly morons, I parked my car and headed toward the bar. As I walked in, I tried to remember why I had even agreed to go to my reunion.

             
“Yo, asshole, where ya been?”

             
Oh, yeah. That was why.
“What’s up, Frank? How long have you been here?”

             
“About twenty minutes. I got here right at eight. I got a drink with some guys from work closer to the office and then caught a cab over here.”

             
“Huh,” I replied as I scanned the room. The reunion was for graduates only, so there were no husbands, wives, or significant others around unless they had also graduated with us. “How did Claire take the news that you'd be coming alone?” I asked with a smirk. Claire didn’t trust Frank in the least, mostly because he acted like a pig. But that was all it was: an act. To my knowledge, he had never fucked around on Claire. Probably because she had threatened to reenact the movie
Burning Bed
if she ever found him with another woman.

             
“She got over it.”

             
I let out a brief laugh, knowing damn well it had probably taken an act of God and a ton of sexual favors for her to get over it. As we stood there surveying the room, a redhead I didn’t recognize slinked past us as she eyed me suggestively. I held her gaze and licked my lips.
Man, do I wish I could remember her.

             
I heard Frank grumble beside me. “Come on, ladies’ man. Let’s mingle.” Then he wrapped an arm around my shoulder and led me away from the hot redhead. Though
I couldn’t resist one last look over my shoulder. And damn if she wasn’t still staring at me.

***

Two hours later and I was having the time of my life. Being around people from high school had successfully catapulted my maturity level back to that of a teenager as we told lame jokes and laughed hysterically at the petty crimes we had committed fifteen years ago. It was great.

             
I had just finished regaling the crowd with my tale of the time a few other buddies and I had put the principal’s tiny two-door car in the stairwell when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I noticed Frank’s brows raise as I turned slowly.
Jesus Christ
. It was the redhead.

             
She watched me curiously for a moment before saying, “You don’t remember me, do you?”

             
Shit.
I really hated conversations that started that way. I quickly racked my brain for any hints as to who this woman could be. Coming up empty, I shrugged and stammered. “Uh, no, I, umm . . . sorry, I . . .”

             
She eventually took pity on me and reached her hand toward me. “Carly Stanton.”

             
I had hoped that a name would ring some kind of bell for me, but it didn’t. “Uh, hi, Carly. I’m Adam—”

             
“Adam Carter,” she finished for me. “Yeah, I know.”

             
This was going from bad to worse. “I’m so sorry, Carly, but I’m drawing a complete blank here.”

             
She shrugged. “I’m not totally surprised by that. After all, we only spent about seven minutes together in the four years we knew each other.” Her eyes twinkled a little as she revealed this tidbit.

             
And then it hit me.
Seven minutes.
“Holy shit, Carly Stanton.” I smiled broadly at her as the memory of our time together in Brad Holbrook’s basement while we played Seven Minutes in Heaven
flowed through me. She had moved onto my street in ninth grade, and though we had seldomly interacted, I had often admired her from afar. Needless to say, the seven minutes we spent together had been one of the highlights of my high school days. Quickly allowing my eyes to skate over her body, I felt my pulse throb a little harder.
The years have definitely been good to her.
She was only about 5’5”, but her stiletto heels caused her legs to seem endless. Her frame was thin, with average but perky tits and the most mesmerizing blue eyes I had ever seen.
             

“I thought that may jar your memory,” she giggled.

             
“It sure did.” What guy didn’t remember awkwardly fumbling boobs in a dark room?
The smile on my face was too big, but I couldn’t rein it in. “How have you been?” It was such an unoriginal question, but my brain was only working at half capacity since most of my blood was currently pumping in the opposite direction.

             
“I’ve been good. I work at an advertising firm in the city, been there about five years now.”

             
“Five years? What were you doing before then?”
Who cares, Adam? Get to the good stuff, like if she wants to suck your dick in the back seat of your car.

             
“Ugh, I was a teacher. I spent four years teaching high school Math before I finally admitted to myself that it just wasn’t for me. I figured if I was going to be forced to do something I hated, I at least wanted to make good money doing it. So I transitioned to advertising and actually found that I liked it.”

             
I nodded my head, still smiling, though it was strained now.
Why did she have to say she had been a teacher?
I hadn’t thought about Lily since I’d arrived, but now I couldn’t think of anything else.

             
Silence fell between us and I found myself unable to fill it. Thankfully, Carly picked up the slack. “What about you? What have you been up to?”

             
Get it together. You aren’t dating Lily and, if memory serves, this woman gave you some of the best seven minutes of your life about seventeen years ago.
I cleared my throat and gave her the rundown: architect, daughter, single. I
may
have emphasized single.

             
We continued to talk for a long time. The remainder of the reunion actually. I found out that she was also single. She had been engaged, but broke it off four months ago because her fiancé didn't seem passionate about her anymore. I paid rapt attention to her, especially her mouth. I was just getting involved in a daydream about those lips on various parts of my anatomy when I heard a throat clear behind me.

BOOK: Picking Up the Pieces
2.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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