Kissing the Shy Guy - Stephanie Street Page 0,56

calendar." I put my hand to my head and closed my eyes. I already had a sinking feeling in my gut. Through the phone, I heard Mom moving through the house. I pictured her fast walking from the front room into the kitchen to the calendar hanging by the fridge.

I knew by the silence on the other end of the phone I was right. I knew without having to be told she wouldn't be going to New York.

"Mom, you promised." My voice dropped to a whisper. Adam's warm fingers circled my upper arm. Without thinking, I leaned into him, resting my forehead in the center of his chest.

"Jenna, how could I have known? The entire banquet is in my honor. I have to be there." And if Mom didn't go, Dad would never travel with Melly. Besides, he'd want to go to the banquet to support her...not me.

Tears welled in my eyes. If I didn't get off the phone, I'd lose it, and that wouldn't fix anything. Crying never fixed anything. It certainly wouldn't change her mind or the truth—I'd be alone in New York with no one to support me.

"I know, Mom. I know you do. Listen, I won't be home for a while. I'm going to hang out at Lydia's. I probably won't be home for dinner." My lips trembled at the end.

"Jenna—" Mom said, but I cut her off.

"Bye! I'm super proud of you."

I disconnected the call and sobbed. Adam set down his guitar case and slid his arms around my back.

"Shhh. It's okay. It's going to be okay," he murmured.

I shook my head, pulling the fabric of his t-shirt back and forth across his chest with it. "No. It isn't."

Adam's chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath and sighed. "I'm sorry," he said, not debating my statement, which made me cry harder.

Adam crushed me to him. I shifted my arms around his waist and held on tight. He let me cry, murmuring soft words that didn't mean anything but meant more than he would ever know to me.

I couldn't say how long we stood there holding each other while I cried, but it was a while. Long enough for me to soak the front of Adam's shirt and my legs to go numb. I felt so stupid!

"I made a mess of your shirt…again." I looked like a hot mess, I just knew it. I didn't think I was an ugly crier, but I was definitely a sloppy one with my eyes and nose running like a faucet.

"I have lots more. You can cry on all of them if you want."

I laughed despite myself and hugged him harder because I could.

"How about some ice cream?" he asked, his hands moving over my back as he cuddled me close. I was so exhausted I wanted to climb up his body and make him carry me. But I'd settle for ice cream.

I lifted my tear-stained face from his shoulder. "Can we take your bike?"

He shook his head and sighed, but his eyes danced with amusement. "Yes. How can I deny you anything right now?"

I nodded solemnly. "You can't."

Adam snorted and pulled back, taking hold of my hand. "Put your stuff in your car. Can I leave my guitar in the back seat?"

I nodded. We stowed our things in my car. Adam kept hold of my hand as he led me toward his bike. Like before, he lifted the seat and pulled out the smaller helmet, helping me fit it onto my head and secure the clips under my chin.

He sat first, watching over his shoulders as I braced my hands on his body to climb up behind him. I didn't need to be told to hold onto him—I wanted nothing more than to curl myself around him. Every part of me hurt, except the places touching him. How did he do it? Make everything better? I squeezed him tight with my arms and legs.

Adam turned the key. The engine roared to life. Adam revved it once, then twice before taking off. It had been almost a month since the last time I'd ridden on this bike with him. And that was a month too long.

22

Adam

I couldn’t overthink this. Jenna had obviously gotten bad news from her mom. While I could guess what it had been, it didn’t matter. Jenna was crushed, and she needed me. I’d be there for her. As a friend. Professionally.

Who was I kidding?

One thing I’d learned over the last few weeks? Jenna