“Yeah.” I wave limply. “Thanks, Jake.”
Adam and I watch as he rolls away, the whir of his scooter echoing in the night.
“Well.” Adam curls an arm around my shoulders, leading me toward the entrance. Then he announces for the benefit of the woman on the park bench, “I’m glad I bet on Bigfoot.”
Five minutes later, I’m sitting on a rolling office chair in Marlow’s commercial kitchen while August rubs something cold all over my road rash.
Adam is leaning against the wall, his arms folded over this chest. He hasn’t said much since he helped me inside.
“How exactly did this happen?” August asks, focused on my leg.
I can’t answer or even watch him work. Squeezing my eyes shut, I clench my jaw and bite back a whine. Whatever he’s doing burns like crazy.
“I stepped onto the sidewalk.” Adam’s voice is a low rumble.
August cringes while he works. “Right in front of the Segway, or ...”
Adam shakes his head. “I just stepped onto the sidewalk. That’s it.”
“To be fair,” Marlow calls from the cooktop where she's flipping a row of hamburgers, “you’re like six-foot-a-million, and it’s dark out there. After an hour talking to Stevie, Jake probably thought you were Bigfoot.” She snickers at her joke.
Adam’s eyes turn heavy. He looks exhausted. “Probably.”
August smooths some bandages over my knees, then makes me look him in the eyes. He holds up a hand. “Follow my finger,” he murmurs, moving his index finger in anHpattern in front of me. He does this a few times, then he boops the bridge of my nose. “Anything unusual there? Any double vision?”
“Nope.”
“No headache or dizziness?”
“Just the usual.”
August shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re lucky.”
Adam nods. Marlow hands him a plate with a cheeseburger, and he says a quiet, “Thank you.”
While August gathers the trash from the bandages and ointment, Marlow stands next to Adam. “How was the date? Up until Adamcrashedit, I mean,” she teases, nudging him with her elbow.
He chokes, and Marlow quickly hands him a napkin.
“Um . ..” I bite my cheek, twisting side to side in the office chair, unsure how to answer. I sense Adam’s focus on me, but I can’t look at him. I’ve never been a good pretender, and Marlow is watching my every move. She’ll track my heart-shaped googly eyes right away. “Jake was nice, but ...”
“Here we go.” Marlow wipes her hands on her apron, shaking her head. “What was wrong this time? Did he chew his food too loudly? Too softly? You don’t like the shape of his earlobes?”
“No. Nothing like that.” He’s just not Adam—whose earlobes are magnificent, for the record. I glance at his ears to confirm. Yes. They are tan and slightly attached to his stubbled jawline. Well done, Adam. “We just didn’t click.” I can’t seem to pull my eyes away from Adam’s face.
Marlow tracks my line of sight. Her eyes tighten, and she tilts her head. “Adam.”
Oh, no. I don’t like the tone in my friend’s voice. In another life, Marlow was a bloodhound.
Adam looks up from his dinner with cautious eyes. “Hmm?”
Marlow grins. “Would you like to go on a date with Stevie?”
I throw my hands in the air. “Flag on the play!”
“Shh!” Marlow bats me away, turning back to Adam. “We could even double. Nothing too high pressure. What do you think?”
I feel like the last used car on a sales lot. Marlow just kicked my tires, smacked my hood, and offered Adam a deal.
