Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Laney

I'm halfway through an evening yoga class in my neighbor's outdoor studio, doing my best to not think about kissing Adam long enough to actually relax for a minute, when my smartwatch buzzes with an incoming call. I don't know if the calibration is off or if I somehow screwed up the settings, but the vibration sounds more like a carpenter bee stuck inside a mason jar than the subtle buzz it's supposed to be.

The woman on the mat next to me looks over and frowns and I immediately silence the call, offering a mouthed sorry before resuming my downward dog.

But then the buzzing starts again.

I study the number more closely this time. I don't recognize it, but the area code is the same as Adam's, so I jump off my mat and grab my phone from the bench at the back of the pavilion.

"Sorry, sorry," I whisper over and over again as I hurry around the group and to the far corner of the yard where I can talk without disrupting everyone.

"Hello?" I finally answer.

"Laney?" a voice says as soon as I say hello. "It's Sarah. I'm so glad you answered."

"Hey," I say, not liking the trepidation filling her voice. "Is everything okay?"

"I think so?" she says. "The thing is, I'm pretty sure Taylor is in labor and I don't know anything about how this works and Adam isn't here and I have no idea where he is and I know this is a lot to ask but are you busy?" Her words tumble out of her, one sentence running into the next, leaving me with at least a dozen questions, mostly ones having to do with her missing brother. But that doesn't seem to be Sarah's main concern.

"Wow. That's a lot," I say.

"I know. I'm sorry. Is it bad that I called?"

"No, no. Not at all. I'm glad you did. Why don't you start by telling me about Taylor?"

"Right. Yes. I was just out at the barn, and she was pacing around, panting really heavily. She seems agitated, anxious. That's labor, right?"

"It sounds like it," I say. "And that's all totally normal behavior. Most dogs do this without any human assistance, so as long as she has a warm, comfortable space separate from the other dogs, she's very likely going to be just fine."

"Good. That's good," Sarah says. "She is separate, and Adam has her enclosure all prepared. But, I don't know, Laney. Do I need to stay with her? I get super squeamish around blood, so I just don't think I'm the right person for this job."

" Is there blood? "

"Not that I've seen, but there will be, right? When the puppies are born?"

Across the lawn, the class shifts into a standing tree pose. "And you said Adam isn't around?" I ask Sarah.

She lets out a little huff. "He does this sometimes. He'll be back, but maybe not for a while. Do you think you could come over? I would feel so much better knowing Taylor has someone experienced looking out for her."

"I can come," I say, swallowing the urge to ask what Sarah means by Adam does this sometimes .

Does what, exactly? Goes on a bender at the local bar? Flies to Vegas and gambles away his sorrows? Maybe he's just off somewhere with Freddie? Or off somewhere… hiding from Freddie?

Wherever he is, Taylor does deserve to have someone watching out for her. "I'm at a yoga class now, but I can be there in…half an hour, maybe?"

"Thanks, Laney," Sarah says. "I appreciate it."

I get to Hope Acres in twenty minutes, both because I ignored all but the most essential traffic laws and because I didn't stop to change out of my yoga clothes, opting to throw on a cropped hoodie over my leggings and sports bra and call it good. It's not like Taylor is going to care what I'm wearing.

Adam's SUV is parked in front of the house when I pull up at the rescue, and Freddie's car is there too, which gives me some hope. Does that mean Adam is back?

But then Sarah hurries down the porch steps, concern etched across her brow. I climb out and meet her in the driveway, and she tugs me toward the barn. It has to mean Adam isn't actually back, which is equal parts disappointing and concerning. I take comfort in the fact that Sarah is clearly more worried about Taylor than she is her missing brother, so I follow her lead and swallow my own concerns.

Adam is a grown man. Wherever he is, whatever he's doing, I'm sure he's fine.

At least, I hope he's fine.

Taylor still hasn't delivered by the time we reach the barn, but I can tell she's close. Sarah stays with me for a few minutes, but Taylor seems distracted by her nervous energy, so I gently suggest she head back to the house, and Sarah breathes out a sigh of relief. "Are you sure?" she asks, but she's already moving toward the door.

"Absolutely," I say. "I'll be fine. But…"

She pauses and looks back.

"Did you say you don't know where Adam is?"

She rolls her eyes and motions toward the mountains behind the barn. "Out there somewhere, probably. This is what he does when he needs to think. And I guess he and Freddie got into it this afternoon, so he clearly had some stuff to think about."

"You're not concerned that it's basically dark?" I say, looking over her shoulder into the late evening light.

"Nah. He knows these mountains. If he isn't home in another couple hours, I might start to worry, but I'm not worried yet."

Once she's gone, the other dogs settle down and the barn is quiet, filled only with sleepy snorts and snuffles. There isn't much I can do but watch and wait, so I pull out my phone and use my Kindle app to read, periodically checking on Taylor's progress.

It's hard to focus, though, because my brain keeps going back to whatever happened with Freddie and Adam this afternoon. They seemed good when they stopped by the office. What happened after?

Maybe they finally talked about the concert and saying no didn't go quite as well as Adam hoped? A low ache forms right between my ribs. I rub at the spot, but I don't think it's going to go anywhere until I know Adam is okay.

An hour later, Taylor delivers her fourth and final puppy. She handled the delivery like a pro and probably would have been fine on her own, but I'm not sorry I was here for it. I'll never get tired of attending deliveries—especially the ones when everything goes well.

I'm just standing up and closing the door of Taylor's enclosure when the barn door slides open and Adam steps inside.

Wherever he's been, he looks like he's been through something.

He's visibly sweaty, there's a rip on the sleeve of his shirt, and he has a smudge of dirt across his forehead. Tiny red scratches cover his forearms and the tops of his hands. He looks like someone dropped him in the middle of a briar patch and made him crawl a mile to safety.

"I saw your car. Is everything okay? Is Taylor okay?" Adam asks.

"She's fine," I say. "Sarah called me because she was concerned, but everything went great."

His eyes widen the slightest bit. "It's over?"

"She just had the last one not ten minutes ago." I look down at the smallest of the litter, squirming under its mother's dutiful ministrations. "They're beautiful puppies."

He wipes his sleeve across his forehead and walks over, stopping beside me to look down at the new litter. "I'm sorry I wasn't here for it. "

He's close enough now that I can see a scratch down the side of his cheek. I hesitate a beat before asking, "Adam, where have you been? Are you okay?"

He breathes out a sigh and lifts his hands to his head, then pulls them away and looks at them. "I lost my hat," he says.

The totally random comment makes me worry he's still a little out of it. Not quite in shock, but a little dazed? I mean, the man does seem to love his hats, but considering his current condition, I'm not sure he should be worried about it now.

There's a gash down the underside of his left arm that I didn't see before, this one deeper and bloodier than the smaller scratches on the top.

"Whoa," I say, stepping toward him. "That looks really deep."

Adam looks at his arm like he didn't even realize the injury was there. I glance back at the puppies. Three are already nursing, and Taylor is nudging the fourth one into position, nuzzling and licking it gently. Feeling like Taylor's got things under control, I reach for Adam's arm. "Can I take a look?"

Adam nods and lets me lead him toward the supply room at the front of the barn. I familiarized myself with everything on the shelves when I first showed up, wanting to know what my resources were should anything go wrong with Taylor's delivery. I can't do much with what's here, but I can at least clean him up a little.

He drops onto a stool, and I grab a clean rag off the shelf, crossing to the sink at the grooming station to get it wet. When I return, Adam is a picture of defeat, his shoulders slumped, his expression dejected .

I reach for his arm, and he lets me take it, flinching the slightest bit when I press the warm rag to his skin. "Did you get lost?" I ask as I wipe the dirt and debris away from the wound.

He lets out a grunt. "Something like that."

I work in silence a few minutes more, cleaning up his arms, making sure he's only dealing with superficial wounds. I'm doing a crap job, honestly. He needs a shower and an antiseptic wash and some butterfly bandages to close the largest cut, but this is better than nothing.

Adam lifts a hand to the curve of my waist. With how he's sitting on a stool and I'm standing in front of him, his head is about eye level with my ribs, and he leans forward the slightest bit, resting his head on my side, his fingertips pressing into the exposed skin at the top of my leggings.

A flutter of emotions spread through my chest and out to my fingertips, making me tingle all over.

This man.

How does he make me feel so much?

I squeeze a little water over a skinned spot on Adam's elbow then brush away a tiny stone lodged in his skin. "You really should clean up with something other than just water," I say. "Nothing looks deep enough for stitches, but your dirt smudges have dirt smudges. You'll risk an infection if you don't."

"My dirt smudges have dirt smudges," he repeats.

"Shut up. I'm a vet, not a poet. What did you do, anyway? Fight a bear?"

"I fell into a ravine," Adam says. "Only about twenty-five feet, but the mountain let me know who's boss." He lifts his shirt the slightest bit, revealing another swath of cuts and scrapes moving up his ribcage. "Got me here, too. "

"Adam! What were you trying to do out there?" I return to the sink and rinse the rag, then soak it in warm water one more time. When I'm back in front of Adam, I crouch down in front of him and gesture to his side. "Come on. Let me see."

He leans back, lifting his t-shirt all the way up. Oh. Oh, this is not fair. I force my gaze away from the expanse of exposed skin on Adam's chest, the dusting of hair that trails down his chest and disappears into the waistband of his jeans. I have a purpose here, and it has nothing to do with the curve of Adam's pectoral muscles.

When I press the rag to his side, he flinches away, but not like it's painful. More like he's ticklish. He swallows a laugh, pressing his lips together as I squeeze water over the cuts to clean away the worst of the debris. I don't know why it feels like such a big deal to know that Adam is ticklish. It shouldn't be. Lots of people are. Maybe just because it feels like such an intimate thing to know about someone. And now I know it about Deke Driscoll. Except, that's not really it. Sitting with Adam like this, touching him, feeling his gaze on me, I'm not thinking of him as Deke.

He's just… Adam.

"Okay. I think that's as good as I can do. I stand up and gesture to his face. "Do you mind?"

He shakes his head and looks up, his blue eyes fixed on mine as I tilt his chin up even further and press the rag to the cut on his cheek.

"Thank you," he says softly.

"Don't worry about it," I say. "It's nothing."

He lifts a hand, curving it around mine, the calluses on his palms rough against the skin on the back of my hand. "It's not nothing. "

His thumb brushes across my knuckles, then he lifts my palm and presses a kiss to the pad at the base of my thumb.

I toss the rag into the sink, then step closer, wrapping my arms around his shoulders as Adam pulls me into a hug. There's a leaf clinging to his hair, and I reach up and tug it away. When he leans into the touch, I slide my fingers through his hair as he closes his eyes, letting out a low groan of pleasure.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He breathes out a sigh and leans into me, his face only inches away from my stomach. The tickle of his breath sends a wave of goosebumps across the inch of exposed midriff at the hem of my hoodie.

"Do we have to?" he asks.

I let out a little chuckle. "Not at all." The last thing he needs is another person pressuring him. "I'm just saying, I'm happy to listen if you need it."

He's quiet for a beat, his breathing steady until he finally says, "I think I have to say yes to Freddie."

My hands still as the idea of Adam on stage with Midnight Rush settles into my mind. This moment is not about me, and I would never be excited about something that isn't good for Adam, but I can't entirely shut down the super fan inside of me that is screaming at the thought of seeing the band back together again. Even just for one night.

"How are you feeling about it?" I ask.

"I don't know. Scared? I think. Really uncertain." He takes a long, deep breath, and I can almost see the thoughts cycling through his brain.

I press the pads of my fingers into his scalp, intensifying the massage. "I can hear you thinking," I say gently.

He chuckles. "Yeah, I bet. "

"Try saying the thoughts out loud," I say. "Sometimes, they're not as scary once you hear yourself say them."

He licks his lips and lifts his unbelievably blue eyes to mine. "It's just that I wasn't a very good friend," he says. "They tried to be there for me after Mom died, but I was so torn up, I couldn't…" He shakes his head, his jaw tensing. "I felt guilty when I was with them because before she died, I was with them when I should have been with her. "

My heart aches. I can't begin to imagine the pain of losing a parent.

"The only way I knew how to deal with that guilt was to push them away. Shut all of it out," Adam says. "So the thought of going back on stage, facing them, I just…" He sighs.

"That's a lot to unpack," I say.

"Yeah. But it's time. I need to do this for Freddie. For all of them."

Behind us, the barn door opens, and Sarah and Freddie step inside.

I'm still wrapped up in Adam's arms, and I tense like I'm going to step away from him, but his grip around me tightens, so I stay put.

"Oh, thank goodness," Sarah says, lifting a hand to her chest. "I was literally ten minutes away from calling the sheriff and demanding he organize a search party." She looks him up and down. "Geez, what happened to you?"

"I fought a mountain lion," Adam deadpans.

I stifle a chuckle as Sarah's eyes widen. "Are you serious?"

"No," he says, and she rolls her eyes.

"Adam. That's not funny."

"I fell into a ravine," he says. "Up above the spring on the east ridge. But I'm fine. Laney checked me over. Nothing's broken."

"Are you sure?" Sarah says. "Jake just left, but I can call him back to take a look."

Adam shakes his head. "I'm sure. Laney's a doctor, too."

"Um, not that kind of doctor. I'd do better with the mountain lion," I say.

"You did great," Adam says. "And I'm fine. Just a little scraped up."

Sarah puts her hands on her hips. "Well, in that case, you're an idiot for running off and missing Jake but also I'm glad you aren't dead and I love you and I hope you're okay."

Adam finally stands, and I shift to the side, making room for him to walk over to his sister. He pulls her into a one-armed hug. "I'm sorry I disappeared and that I missed Jake," He says. His eyes shift over to Freddie, who has been standing behind Sarah watching their conversation with a curious expression. "I just had some thinking to do."

"And?" Freddie asks.

It's a long moment before Adam answers.

He and Freddie just stare at each other across the five feet or so of space between them, the tension ratcheting up with every passing second.

"One concert," Adam finally says. "But only one."

Sarah lets out a little squeal, clapping her hands in front of her as Freddie moves to Adam and pulls him into a hug, pounding him on the back hard enough to make Adam flinch.

"You won't regret this, man," he says. "It's going to be amazing."

It will be amazing. How could a Midnight Rush reunion show be anything but amazing ?

Despite Adam's initial hesitations, maybe this could be a good thing for him. To reconnect with his friends, reconnect with his music. But who am I to have an opinion? We've been on one date.

As a fan? It isn't hard to conjure up how excited I would be if I'd never met Adam and simply found out about the concert like everyone else. I would lose my mind. Then I would force Percy to buy tickets with me, and I would go and sit in the nosebleed cheap seats because who can afford the expensive ones and also pay a mortgage, and I would watch the show with all the enthusiasm a twenty-six-year-old woman can reasonably express without losing her dignity.

But now…watching Adam on stage, knowing I might be the one he kisses after the show?

That's a dream too fantastical to even consider.

Not that any of this is about me.

It's absolutely not.

Still.

To quote Percy: Holy freaking fudgesicles.