there was Chelsea. And there was my very real fear of this all blowing up in my face.
I shook my head, pulling his hands away from my face. “I need to get working on the mural. I have to finish up a few things.” I got out of the booth, moving away from him.
“What about your breakfast? I can have the waitress wrap it up to go, and we’ll head over together—”
“No,” I said a little too loudly, then tempered it with a smile. “I’ll see you later. Maybe bring me another coffee.” I tapped my watch. “Time’s a tickin’.”
Adam looked worried, but he didn’t stop me when I left.
He knew better than to get in my way.
Chapter 20
Meghan
I spent the rest of the day up on the scaffold painting and touching up what I already painted. Adam came out several times, calling up to see if I needed anything. Every time I waved him away with assurances that I was fine.
He knew me well enough to see through my strained smile.
I saw Adam leave at 5:30. He stopped beneath the platform, shielding his eyes from the evening sun. “How long are you going to stay up there?” he asked.
I looked down at him, finding his beautiful face a little hard to look at. “Until I’m done,” I told him.
Adam’s eyes widened slightly. “You think you’ll finish today?” I heard the catch in his voice. He didn’t even try to hide it. We both knew that the mural was a connection between us. It tied us together for a time. Without it, we’d have to figure things out. I was pretty sure both of us were terrified of where that would lead us.
“I think so,” I said, dipping the brush into the paint and getting back to work, making it clear that I didn’t want to talk.
Adam stood there for a while, watching me work. “It looks beautiful,” he finally said.
I didn’t reply at first. I kept painting. And when I turned around to say something—to tell him thank you—to say his words meant a lot to me—he was walking to his car.
I worked for another two hours, and when I could barely lift my arm, the mural was finally complete. I lowered the platform to the ground, unloaded my equipment and paint, and stood back, taking it all in.
I had done a damn good job. It was hands down, the best piece of art I had ever done. I took out my phone and took several pictures in the dying summer light to post on social media and my website.
I felt giddy and euphoric. I could hardly believe what I had created. I did a little dance right there on the sidewalk, not caring who saw me.
The only person I wanted to share this moment with was Adam Ducate.
That right there told me everything I needed to know. So I swallowed my doubts and my second-guessing and decided to start living my future that very moment.
**
I drove to the store and bought two bottles of champagne. I wanted to celebrate not just the completion of my mural, but finally letting my heart take the lead and telling my head to shut the fuck up.
I wanted to be with Adam. I loved him. I wanted a life with him. I would tell him that together we’d figure out the future. That we’d build something. Together.
I was bursting with happiness that I barely recognized. It had everything to do with Adam. I drove to his house, blasting cheesy love songs the whole way. Only Adam Ducate could make me want to listen to butt rock power ballads.
I didn’t notice the flashy car parked in the driveway. I really wished I had. Then it would have prepared me for the sledgehammer to the face I was about to experience.
I took my hair down and fluffed it with my fingers, wishing I had brought a change of clothes with me. It didn’t matter; I planned for Adam to get me out of my clothing as soon as possible. Particularly after I told him what I knew he wanted to hear.
I was grinning like a loon when I rang the doorbell, clutching the two bottles of champagne. I was going to tell Adam that I wanted to give a real relationship a try. That I didn’t want the end of the mural to be the end of us. That New York didn’t matter. That the only life I wanted to have was with him.