“Well, sweet dreams, Romeo,” I called out, darting into the room and closing my door before Max had a chance to respond.
Twelve
I crawled back into bed, having left the lamp on for Adam to avoid a repeat of his rather disastrous earlier entrance. I snuggled down under the covers. My heart was pounding, which was ridiculous; I couldn’t count all the times I had stayed in this room, in this bed. Crashing here because I was too drunk to navigate my way home. No one even questioned it. My parents never worried if I stayed at the Onslow, no one even blinked an eye. It was just Adam and Ellie, and it had been that way all our lives. The only thing that changed now was my heart was beating faster, and I was extremely aware I was in Adam’s bed, his double bed that suddenly felt really small. Never had I so much as flinched or overthought the feel of him pressed up against me, but now I was terrified, terrified by the unpredictable emotions that were warring inside me. My thoughts were interrupted by Adam’s whistling down the hall; I couldn’t help but laugh, envisioning Max tossing and turning in his bed, cursing him.
Adam twisted the door handle, stepping inside dressed in only his boxers and a towel draped around his shoulders. His hair was damp and messy. My heart did a funny little backflip anytime I saw it that way. Adam pottered around like I wasn’t there; after all, I was here so often I was almost like an integral piece of furniture. He placed his watch on his dresser, rubbed at his damp tendrils vigorously before flicking the towel from his shoulders onto the back of the chair. I watched each and every predictable movement, knowing what was going to happen before he even did. The last ritual was to dive onto the bed, deliberately bouncing it to annoy me before ripping the covers from me.
“You quite right?”
Adam only grinned, leaning over me to click the light off. My eyes were wide, his chest crushed against my face. I had to think ugly thoughts.
Think ugly thoughts.
Rolling back onto his side I let out a breath I didn’t even realise I was holding. Now in the dark and the bed not overly big enough for the both of us, Adam’s body lay right next to mine, skin to skin. It was something so natural for ‘us’ but at the same time not natural at all, not for me.
The darkness we were swallowed up in only intensified the silence, which was usually comfortable but tonight it seemed strained and drawn out.
“So, Megsy Swanston, huh?” The words fell out before I had a chance to stop them. I couldn’t just leave well enough alone.
“Yeah, blast from the past,” he yawned out.
I was cursing myself on so many levels to bring this up now. It was something I really wanted to be able to read in Adam’s face, in his reactions. Not lying here in the dark, on the edge of sleep.
I twisted onto my side toward Adam, resting my head on my hand.
“Where did you run into her?” I tried to keep my voice light, matter of fact, when I felt anything but.
“Her mum’s pretty good friends with my mum, so that’s how I found out she was back in town.”
Strike that, it was probably just as well that we were in the dark; it would hide the scowl plastered across my face.
“Cool,” I managed. I thought if I kept my replies brief it would be less aggressive.
“Yeah, she’s a good egg.”
Yeah, a good egg that broke your heart, Adam Henderson.
I kind of wished I had a quick access and reference point to my old diaries, flipping to the day Adam was a heartbroken sixteen-year-old. It had been the one very rare moment I’d seen a different Adam walk toward me in the schoolyard—his downcast figure had made his way toward me with shoulders hunched, absentmindedly kicking the dirt as he walked as though he bore the whole weight of the world on his shoulders. I had instantly known there was something wrong. The Adam I knew walked as if bouncing on his toes—he had such a spring in his step—he was always grinning, or whistling or giving cheek to anyone that passed him within earshot, but that day, the day Megsy Swanston broke up with him, was a day my heart had broken too. If I hadn’t disliked her already, I damn well hated her then. Having seen Adam’s spirit crushed and shininess reflected in his eyes, I took it upon myself to march through the yard after school, toward where I knew she would be, waiting for the bus to take her to her little hippy commune of a home. I was going to give her a piece of my mind, tear shreds off her for being such a heartless bitch. But by the time I got there she was gone, and I never saw her again until tonight, never got to be the true friend to Adam I had wanted to be, even though I knew he would have hated me getting involved. Infuriatingly, he never said a bad word about her, always defended her anytime I had something snide to say. I was so frustrated by his attitude I quickly learnt not to bother, to just be happy she was out of our lives for good.
Until now.
I wanted to ask a million questions; my nervous, rambling thoughts kept me occupied from thinking too deeply about other things, but when my incessant talking about how much I couldn’t wait to see Tess’s face, and how good it felt to be home, and some things just never change and did he think that …
Wait.
I paused, listening to the deep draw in and out of Adam’s breathing, the sound of complete and utterly contented sleeping. I smiled, a calmness settling over me listening to the sound. I snuggled in deeper, feeling the heat of Adam next to me, so close I could almost feel his breath, and I wondered how I could ever have been anything other than happy to be here, next to him. Megsy might be back on the scene but I was the girl in his bed; sure, the platonic, best friend in his bed, but if this weekend was a time to change that, to lay down the challenge and come to realise that the secrets I had been keeping about my feelings had to stop, then so be it. Maybe it was the darkness that was lending me the bravery to turn my thoughts around, but there was something that went off inside my mind like a light switch. If there were to be another Megsy, things would change. There would be no more of this, and the very reality of that filled me with such horror, because for the life of me I couldn’t imagine an existence without this impossible boy by my side. I stared at Adam’s sleeping profile, barely visible in the shadows, and I could feel tears form in my eyes.
I love you, Adam Henderson.
And just like that, I was reminded of his words from last night. “This weekend you belong to me.” Well, Adam Henderson, we belong to each other, but you just don’t know it yet.
I awoke with a new determination, a new fire in my belly, aided by the fact that Adam’s arm was slung over my shoulder, pinning me in place. It was a nice arm, smattered with hair, leading up to his muscles, something that Adam had returned home with before Christmas. The army had been good to him, had given him the discipline and training he needed, plus sweet, sweet abs that were not lost on me. I really didn’t want to move, I could have stayed there forever. Then it occurred to me: the Ellie of old would have pushed his arm off and elbowed him and abused him for being a bed hog, but last night I hadn’t said a word. I’d welcomed all invasion of space. I may have even invaded his, and he’d never once pushed me away. Aside from a zinger of a headache from the devil’s brew I’d guzzled last night, I had never felt more alive. I slowly peeled Adam’s arm off me, sliding out of bed not for any other necessity than really needing the bathroom. I tiptoed to the door, biting my bottom lip, wincing at the unoiled hinges that seemed to haunt every single doorway of the old hotel. Tentatively opening it and sliding out into the hall, I continued my tiptoeing along the seventies-swirled carpet to the bathroom, twisting the handle and pushing, only to thud against the thick wooden door.
“Oh, no-no-no, come on.” I jiggled the door handle.
I hadn’t even heard the shower. I only heard Max’s voice.
“Enter at own risk,” he yelled out.
