was now, made my eyes prickle with tears. “Oh, Adam,” I breathed, reaching out and touching the picture on his phone with my fingers. “You did this for me.”
“Of course,” he said matter-of-factly. “I want you to be safe. I hate you walking down that road every day. Not only is it too far, but it’s dangerous. This whole goddamn place is.” He peered around the parking lot like he was on the hunt for drug dealers. “I got you two good chains with solid locks, but it won’t stop someone from stealing it if you don’t put it somewhere safe like in front of a store in plain sight, you know? Even that’s no real guarantee.”
I nodded, understanding what he meant. “Adam, you repaired it?”
He shrugged, and that shrug was loaded with a level of self-deprecation that I didn’t like to see on him. He didn’t suit it. Adam was strong, resilient. Sometimes a little arrogant, but this wasn’t humility—this was someone who’d been kicked too many times when they were down.
His sheepish tone compounded that: “I like fixing things.”
God, he’d told me that the second time we met. How had I forgotten?
Twisting into him, I pressed a hand to his chest and stood up on tiptoe. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
He sighed, but let me be the one to join our mouths. The kiss was soft, gentle. But it throbbed. He wanted more, and I had no idea how to give it to him, yet he wasn’t pushing it. I knew, from the way he was, the ease in his body, his sensuality, that he was no virgin, but he never pressured me.
Ever.
He was content to touch me, to hold me, to kiss me chastely. I knew at some point that would change, but for the moment, he never took things too far. I felt like he was waiting on something, only I had no way of knowing what that was, and I didn’t know how to ask him.
Sure, most girls might be that forward, but I wasn’t. Even though I’d lost ties with my culture at eight, certain rules had been ingrained in me from what felt like birth—sex was for marriage. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Pushing his forehead into mine, he whispered, “I love you, Thea.”
My throat felt thick with emotion. “I love you too, Adam.” I reached up with my other hand and wrapped it around the back of his neck. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”
“You deserve the world, Thea, and if I have my way, I’ll give it to you.”
“I just want you,” I whispered, meaning it. Possessions didn’t mean as much to me as they did to Adam, and I didn’t mean that in a bad way, but it was just the difference in our upbringing. Still, the bike was wonderful because he was right—Laurence was dangerous, and having a bike would make me safer.
Maybe I shouldn’t accept it, but just like with his phone, it never really occurred to me to turn it down. The phone kept me in constant contact with him, and the bike gave me wheels to reach him.
My days were geared toward spending as much time with him as possible, and I knew he felt the same way.
We were building toward something, edging closer, I just didn’t know what.
He mimicked my position, cupping the back of my neck, before muttering, “I have to go.”
“I know. Me too.”
We broke away from each other, but our hands tangled as we separated ourselves. He squeezed. “See you tonight?”
I nodded—ever since Emma and Jon had lost Louisa, they were more absent, and didn’t mind so much if we broke the house rules. But I didn’t like to take advantage of their grief, so though we met up, it wasn’t often.
But on my birthday? God, yeah.
His lips curved with delight. “I get to buy my girl a birthday meal.”
My cheeks turned pink. His girl? I loved that way too much. “Oh, Adam, you’ve done enough!”
“I told you, nothing’s too much for you.” His eyes twinkled, and his genuine pleasure at the prospect of us eating a meal together set my heart pounding. “I’ll send you a text when I think of somewhere cool.” Then, he grinned. “Ride safely.”
He didn’t do as he usually did—unfasten his bike then jump onto it. It was only then I realized he hadn’t brought his bike at all. In the surprise from his gift, I’d failed to notice until now, when he strolled