Текст книги "When the Stars Align"
Автор книги: Jeanette Grey
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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 22 страниц)
Chapter Twenty-One
The day Jo’s father left, they had coffee again. She brought her data, and he brought his. She found two mistakes in a paper he was drafting, and he found none.
It might’ve been the best conversation they’d ever had.
At the end of it, he stood up and held out his hand. She took it, shook it twice. But when she went to pull away, he held on.
“This Christmas,” he said, looking past her. “The house is always open.”
She swallowed hard. “Are you cooking?”
“Dear Lord, no.”
She laughed, uncomfortable and uncertain. “I’ll think about it.”
“It’s all I can ask.”
With that, he let go of her hand. She stood there, watching as he walked away.
“You okay?” asked a voice from behind her.
She peeked over her shoulder, knowing full well who she would find. Once Adam was close enough, she leaned into him, letting her head fall back against his chest. “Yeah. I think I am.”
Wrapping his arms around her, Adam kissed her temple. “Good.”
He came up behind her again that night, while she was washing up for bed.
“What are you looking at?” he asked.
Jo leaned in closer to the mirror and ran her fingers through the streaks of fading blue. “It’s about time to redo it.”
Bright colors like hers always washed out faster than normal ones. Such a pain in the ass. She’d been neglecting it for a while now, but it was starting to look sort of sad.
“Do you have the stuff to touch it up?”
“I do.” She pulled the strands straight, then let them go.
“But?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I think I might be ready for a change.”
The package she ordered arrived a few days later, and she gave thanks to the modern miracle of Internet shopping and free shipping. She felt like kind of a dick, asking the five other girls she lived with if she could have the bathroom for a while. Barricading herself inside, she prepped the way she always did, greasing up her hairline and snapping the bottoms of a pair of gloves as she pulled them on.
Before she could get very far, a knock came on the door. She grimaced. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry, but can I sneak in?”
Yeah, sharing a single bathroom with that many women was an experience. She tugged off one of the gloves, turning it inside out in the hopes of being able to reuse it when she was done. She opened the door to find Carol standing outside.
“Sorry,” Carol said.
“No big.”
She stood outside with dye half applied to her hair while Carol did whatever she needed to. When Carol emerged, she gave Jo a considering look.
“Do you want any help with that?”
“I can do it myself.”
“I know you can.” Carol rolled her eyes. “But it can be annoying trying to make sure you’ve gotten everything if you can’t see. I don’t mind.”
Jo hesitated. A handful of weeks ago, she would’ve thrown Carol out without a second thought. But things were different now. Bracing herself, as if the offer were really a trick, she pulled out a fresh glove and handed it over. “If you really want to.”
Carol had Jo sit on the closed toilet seat and stood over her, working the pigment into her hair. As she did, she asked, “Is this stuff permanent?”
“Semi. Washes out in maybe a month or so?” Trying something new—especially on top of the other chemicals left over from her last color—Jo hadn’t wanted to take the risk.
“Do you think we could do a streak in mine?”
Jo managed not to jerk her head up. “You? Really?”
“I think it might look cool.”
With Carol’s fair hair, it would probably take. “Sure. I guess.”
Carol finished up Jo’s hair, and Jo tugged on the ever-attractive shower cap. Together, they picked out a lock of pale, blond hair. Jo scooped out some dye and hovered, her fingers just above the strand. “You absolutely certain about this?”
Carol took a deep breath and nodded decisively. “Yes.”
It didn’t take long to get the color worked in. Jo sectioned it off and secured it in plastic wrap, then hopped up to sit on the counter. “Now we wait.”
In the thirty minutes or so they had to kill, the better part of the household wandered by and ended up lingering around to chat. And it was… weird. Sitting in a bathroom in a shower cap, talking about nebulae and star clusters. An uncomfortable bubble of feeling rose up in her chest.
This was the astronomer-friendly version of girl time. Of friendship.
And she was a part of it.
Kim was the one to ask, “How much longer?”
Jo checked the clock on her phone. “About negative five minutes.”
“Oh shit.” Carol’s hands flew up to her head. “Is my hair going to burn off?”
“Hardly. This stuff is tame, don’t worry.”
They took turns rinsing it out. Someone produced a hair dryer—because blowing hot air at your head when it was a million degrees out was an awesome idea—and Jo almost balked. But it would be the fastest way to see how the color had come out…
Kim stole the dryer about three seconds into her attempt with it. “Hey!” Jo grabbed to take it back.
“Trust me. Let the professionals handle this.”
Jo grimaced, but she could admit when she was out of her depth. Kim did her work, and when she was done, Jo turned around to look.
“Oh, wow.” She reached up to touch the strands. The faded blue with the pink dye over it had come out a vivid purple.
“What do you think?” Carol asked, shouting over the sound of the blower as she worked on her own damp mess.
It was her best happy accident yet. “It’s perfect.”
When Adam came over later, he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of her. She crossed her arms in front of herself, holding her breath.
Not that she cared. A dude’s opinion was irrelevant. Even this dude’s.
But she wanted him to like it.
After a heart-stopping moment, he smiled. “I love it.”
Only, the way he was looking at her, the softness in his eyes…
It sounded like he was talking about more than her hair.
She forced a smile and uncrossed her arms, moving in close. Before he could say anything else, she kissed him.
She had a new look, and she was trying out a new attitude. But some things hadn’t changed. They were still here to work, and in a few short weeks, they’d be going back to their lives.
And she had no idea what hers would look like, after.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The final weekend of the program found Adam on a ferry, surging across the water, Jo in his arms as they gazed out over the railing. It was their first and only overnight trip.
She turned her head, raising her voice to be heard over the wind. “What’s so special about this place we’re going to?”
“This place we’re going to” was Vieques Island. And the attraction they were traveling all that way to see was called “the bio bay.” He settled his hands on her hips and spoke into her ear. “It’s full of little creatures called dinoflagellates, and every time they move or get disturbed, they glow.” He kissed her neck. “If you’d been listening, you would’ve known that.”
She shrugged. “I was busy.”
They all had been. Their final presentations were coming up, and everyone was scrambling to get them done. And then once they were over…
He swallowed hard, dropping his head so he could rest his brow against her hair. In a handful of days, they’d all get onto different planes. She’d be in a different state, a different time zone, even. No more late nights staying up talking, no more sleeping curled around her. No more cutting gazes or sharp remarks. And no more kisses. Before long, he’d be back in Philly, settling into his apartment with the guys, checking his phone for missed calls or messages or anything. Again.
They hadn’t talked about it yet, but they had to. Tonight. They’d get checked into their hotel and tour around the little tourist trap. Go out on the bio bay and maybe have some drinks with the gang, and after… He’d take her out on the beach. Get her to tell him what she thought happened next. Try to convince her she wanted what he did.
More.
The wind picked up, and Jo patted his wrist before wriggling out of his arms. She retreated over to where some of the others were sitting, and that right there made his heart swell. She wasn’t an open book by any means, but he wasn’t the only one she’d stopped pushing away. She patted Carol’s leg to get her to take it off the seat, then sat down right beside her. Sure, she pulled out a book as soon as she did, but at least she was being a crazy workaholic with other people instead of by herself. Adam would take progress where he could get it.
He was just about to go join her when Jared stood up and made his way over to Adam. “Hey, man.”
“Hey.” Adam gave him the dudebro handshake that was expected of him and leaned his hip against the railing.
“Did you talk to Jo about her and Kim rooming together?”
“Yeah. She said it shouldn’t be a problem.”
Tom had elected to stay behind at Arecibo, so Adam and Jared were the only guys on the trip. They roomed together, and Kim and Jo bunked up. It worked out perfectly for them to switch.
“Awesome.”
Convenient, definitely. And then it struck him—he and Jared had more than just their rooming preferences in common right now. He leaned his head to the side and lowered his voice. “Have you guys talked yet? About the whole going home thing?”
“What, me and Kim?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “I mean, you seem kind of serious.”
He’d been prepared for a lot of reactions. Jared smacking his shoulder and laughing in his face wasn’t one of them. “Dude. No. Are you shitting me?”
Adam’s brow scrunched up. “She sleeps over all the time.”
“Because we do it all the time. That’s it, though. We decided that before we started this.”
“Oh.” Adam’s chest went tight.
“That’s why summer flings are so great. You get it on and you get out. No worrying about commitments or feelings.” Then he paused, as if hearing what he’d said. “Wait. Are you… you and crazy girl aren’t—”
“Don’t call her that.” Adam was pretty sure Jared didn’t mean anything by it. But it grated all the same.
“Okay, okay.” Jared held his hands up. “But for real, though. You aren’t going to try the long-distance thing, are you?”
“I want to. We’re…” There wasn’t any denying it. After everything they’d been through, all the work it had taken to get to where they were. “It’s kind of serious.”
“Dude. Dude, no.” Jared looked like Adam was physically paining him.
Clearly, this had been a mistake. “Never mind.” He moved to walk away, only to have Jared grab him by the arm.
“It’s suicide. You realize that, right? It never works out, and in the meantime you’re, what, celibate? Not worth it.”
It made Adam’s shoulders draw up. If anything in the world was worth it, Jo was. They were. He shrugged Jared off. “Thanks for the advice.”
He made his way over to the section of seats with the rest of them and took the empty one across from Jo. She looked up from her work just long enough to smile at him, and any doubts he might have had faded away.
Worth. It.
The ferry docked not too much longer. With P.J. leading the charge, they filed off the boat and into a couple of taxis that took them to one of the less awesome hotels he’d ever seen, but for the price they were paying, he couldn’t exactly object. They put their stuff down in their assigned rooms—they’d figure out the switching part later.
“Anybody want to go exploring?” one of the girls called from down the hall.
Adam stepped out to peek his head into Jo’s room. “You want to go?”
“Nah.” Jo waved him off. “But you should if you want.”
Adam reminded himself that Jo was intent on getting a paper out of this summer’s work. He shouldn’t give her any shit about it. With a kiss to her temple, he headed off to join the others who were heading out.
In the end, the town was as much of a tourist trap as Adam had figured it would be. Lots of little bars and grills, populated by burned-out surfers. Shoes were a rarity, and shirts almost as much so. Everything was island themed, which made sense, but it all looked sort of cheap.
Beyond the rows of restaurants, clean, white beach loomed, and Adam’s spirits rose. Ocean water and sand had treated him well the last time. He motioned to head that way, and the others followed along. But then he stopped when a woman at a shack of a roadside stand called out to them.
Normally, it wouldn’t have caught his interest. But the lady was peddling jewelry, and not complete and total crap at that. His gaze caught on a necklace. A black leather cord, strung with metal and wooden beads, and hanging from the center of it, a wooden pendant.
Okay, so it was kind of crap. But not entirely. And most importantly of all, burned or etched into the wood was the image of Scorpius, the constellation he and Jo had spent so much time staring up at.
“How much?” he asked, reaching for his wallet.
He didn’t even bother to haggle. It was inexpensive enough, and once he’d seen it, he had to have it. The only jewelry he’d ever seen Jo wear had been for her mother, and she put that on rarely enough. He doubted she’d get much use of this, either, but she’d have it. Have something to remember him by. He tucked the little bundle in his pocket.
“Come on,” Carol called. They were all waiting for him.
He smiled and jogged to join them.
Okay, it wasn’t as if Jo hadn’t been paying any attention when P.J. had been talking up their final field trip. She’d caught that it was going to be cool and sciencey, that it would cost eighty bucks, and that Adam wanted to go.
She hadn’t needed to know a whole lot more.
That said, she didn’t have the best of ideas about what she was in for as she rode along in an old, decommissioned school bus toward the mythical bay they were visiting. Up at the front of the bus, a woman gave them some background on the biology behind how the place supposedly glowed, and Jo half paid attention while sneaking glances at Adam in profile beside her. It was just after nightfall, his face mostly in shadow, but the rough shape of his nose and the jut of his chin, the cut of his jaw all stood out against the darkness beyond.
He’d been quiet tonight. Not in a bad way, she didn’t think, but a coiled up sort of tension made his shoulders rise and his spine stiffen. The guy had something on his mind.
She had a really bad feeling it was her.
With a sinking feeling in her abdomen, she dropped her gaze.
She’d known from the start that Adam wasn’t the sort of guy you had a quick little summer fling with and then walked away from. The perfect, gorgeous idiot fell in love with his whole damn heart and he held on past the point of reason, past the point of sanity. She knew. She’d watched him do it with Shannon. Hell, he’d said it himself. He’d been clinging to some idea of her long past the point where it made any kind of sense. Fuck if he wasn’t going to do it with Jo, too.
She couldn’t let him. She was such a mess. Her entire life, she’d been holding herself together with fear and anger and resentment, and ever since he’d stripped her of them, peeling them away piece by piece, she’d been holding herself together with his arms. It couldn’t last. Sure, she was a good lay, but when they were half a country apart, she wouldn’t even be able to give him that. She wasn’t here to be saved or to be idealized. She had to figure herself out, see what strings could tie her insides in when she was on her own.
And while she was off doing that, he’d go on and find the perfect, sane girl who’d give him everything he really needed. He deserved that. Not the memory of some pierced-up chick who once upon a time he’d helped a lot.
So why did just the idea of it have to hurt so much?
Before she could dwell on it any more, the bus pulled off the main road, rocking as it hit the unpaved path. Adam squeezed her hand, and the gesture only made it worse. After a few more minutes, they finally came to a stop, and the lights came on, making her wince. Groans came out from around her, so apparently she hadn’t been the only one getting her night vision on.
They filed off the bus and followed their tour leader toward a boat docked at a tiny pier. She accepted her life jacket and climbed aboard, still unable to see what all the fuss was about.
Once everyone was settled in, the boat slipped out into the bay, unusually quiet but for the rushing of water. The lights at the dock receded into the distance.
And then she glanced behind her.
“Adam. Look.”
Behind them, the boat’s wake shimmered with a living, breathing, cascading blue. She looked over the side, and it was everywhere. The boat met liquid and light erupted.
Adam nudged her shoulder and pointed into the distance at trails of brilliance dashing beneath the surface. “Fish.”
And suddenly, she got it. Why they’d come all this way, why they’d had to come at night. Their guide was giving them yet more information about the billions of tiny creatures in the water, responding to motion by emitting light, but Jo was only half listening even now. All she could do was watch.
In the very center of the bay, their pilot cut the engines off. “If anybody wants to, now’s your chance to jump in.”
Jo was the first in line. A quick check of her life vest from their guide, a nod of approval, and then she was jumping. Falling. Plunging.
Into a universe of stars.
Everything was silence, weightless floating and pinpricks of light dissolving into churning swaths of ethereal glow. Each movement of her hand and twitch of her foot. A flash of inspiration, and she twirled, sending brightness spiraling out and swallowing her whole.
She came up when she needed to breathe, breaking surface into cool night air. “Oh my God.”
Adam came up splashing beside her, and she turned to him.
“Oh my God,” she repeated.
His smile was lit by the wash of blue coming up from the water. Tiny trails of luminescence flowed down his hair and across the planes of his chest.
“It’s all stars,” she said, breathless.
“Millions and millions of stars.” He lifted his hand out of the water, and the cosmos poured from his palm.
Because he got it. He understood.
She launched herself at him, and he caught her, their legs tangling, every kick sending blooming clouds of light sweeping out beneath the surface. He trailed his fingers down her cheek. “You’re glowing.”
“So are you.” Just the faintest traces of it when they were still, so she wouldn’t be still. She kissed him hard, licking wonder from his lips and running her hands through his hair. Setting off showers of phosphorescent sparks. She broke the kiss off all at once. “I’m going under again.”
In the end, they dove together, hands entwined, and she opened her eyes underwater to watch the way he moved. The trails of light bloomed out between them.
As soon as they surfaced, she wanted to drop down again. To look at the world from a silent depth. But he pulled her into his arms and kicked his legs higher. She floated supported by him. And she looked up.
The air left her lungs in a rush.
With his mouth against her ear, his breath a warm wash, he said, “I thought the stars at Arecibo were the most beautiful I’d ever seen.”
But these were better. Here on this tiny island, twenty minutes’ ride from the closest town. Floating on a moonless night.
And all at once, it was like his touch was the only thing grounding her. The only thing keeping her from spinning off into some infinity where the sky and the water met, and everything was stars.
Her voice caught, and nothing came out.
“I’m so glad I got to see this here.” He kissed her neck. “With you.”
Just like that, the vastness of it all came crashing down. The boat lurched into focus, the murmurs of amazement from all the others seeping in. She shivered in his arms. “Me too,” she managed, because she was. It would be something to hold on to. Later.
She was still out there, still swimming on a glowing sea.
But already, it felt like a memory.
The three biggest things Adam wanted after they got back to the hotel were a shower, a burger, and at least an hour alone with Jo, preferably in that order. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who was starving, though, because as soon as they were off the bus, Jared was leading the way to the bar next door.
Adam looked to Jo. “Food?”
“All the food,” she agreed, following the herd. Their hands stretched out between them when he hung back. She glanced over her shoulder at him, brow quizzical.
He tugged her toward him. “You okay?”
It’d been dark enough in the bus that he couldn’t exactly say she’d been avoiding his gaze, but she definitely hadn’t been entirely with him. She’d been so joyful while she’d been swimming, lit up like the waters they’d floated on. But sitting in the boat after, listening to the tour guide map out constellations they both knew by heart, she’d withdrawn in a way that hadn’t sat right with him. Still didn’t.
“Fine,” she said.
Yeah, right. “We can go somewhere else.” He swept his hand toward the row of hotels and restaurants lining the strip. “Just the two of us, if you want.”
She shook her head. “Let’s stick with everybody else.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Of course I am.” She leaned in and planted a quick kiss to his lips. Stepping away, she met his gaze. “I promise. Everything’s okay.”
He still didn’t believe it, but how much of a hypocrite would he be to call her on it? He wasn’t “fine” either, but at least he knew what was bothering him. And not knowing what was going on in her head was half of his problem.
“Okay.” He squeezed her hand, and this time when she went to join their group, he took the lead. The things they had to say to each other could wait, at least long enough to get some grub.
In back of the bar, the gang had managed to shove a few tables together, and they were squeezed in around them, two seats left conveniently free for Adam and Jo to slip into. He draped his arm over the back of Jo’s chair and grabbed a menu to share. While they looked it over, a waitress in cutoffs and a bikini top came by to take their orders.
Jared called for a round of shots, and Adam gave him a look.
“It’s our last time out,” Jared said. “Live a little.”
Jo seemed game enough. “I’m in.”
They put in the rest of their orders. A couple of minutes later, eight tiny glasses appeared, all full of amber liquid. Adam took a whiff of his and sucked in a whistle. They weren’t messing around. He lifted it up, and the others did the same. Carol asked, “So what are we drinking to?”
Everyone looked around. When no one spoke, Adam raised his shot higher. His throat bobbed. “To the best summer ever.”
It was a cheesy, easy thing to say. The kind of sappy crap that came with their time running out.
But fuck him if there, in that moment, it didn’t feel true.
They all met in the middle to clink their glasses. He tipped the liquor to his mouth and gulped it down, then shook his head against the burn.
Quiet descended over the table like a realization. This was really it. Their last hurrah.
Adam’s stomach sank.
“Kind of hard to believe, huh?” Carol said. “Feels like we just got here, and in a few days we’ll all be home.”
“For certain definitions of it.” Jo rolled her empty glass between her fingers, and Adam rubbed her shoulder.
A few of the others chimed in with where they were heading next, how they were spending the remaining week or two before the semester began.
Jared set his shot glass down with a thunk. “Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I can’t fucking wait.”
“Excuse you?” It made something hot like betrayal rise up in Adam’s throat at the idea that anyone could be eager to go.
“I’m sorry. It’s been a good time and all. Maybe not the ‘best summer ever,’”—he made little finger quotes—“but sure, good. But I want to go home. I’m gonna get there and drive my car anywhere I want and eat like a million cheeseburgers and hit on waitresses who understand what I’m saying because they speak freaking English. Then I’m gonna crank my AC until I blow a fuse. Home is awesome, and I can’t wait to go back.”
“I’ll miss you, too, asshole,” Kim said, jabbing him with her elbow. Her tone was mostly playful. Mostly.
“Of course I’ll miss you guys,” Jared said it to the table as a whole. “But don’t you miss your friends back home?”
“Sure,” Adam started. “But…” His words trailed off. Because Adam did miss his parents and his brothers and everyone. But not as much as he was going to miss…
Jo stared at the center of the table like she could burn a hole in the wood with her eyes.
Adam’s hunger disappeared, his interest in anything except that time alone with her vanishing. He put his hand over hers, wanting to say something. Drag her away somewhere.
Then Kim said, “Well, you won’t have to miss me for long. When I come visit you—”
And Jared laughed. Right out loud. In her face.
Jesus Christ.
“What the hell is so funny?”
Jared didn’t seem to understand what he’d just stepped in. “You’re not coming to visit me.” He said it like it was a fact, something he’d already decided.
“Like hell I’m not.”
Finally, Jared sat up a little straighter. “Babe. We said from the beginning.”
“I know what the hell we said. But that was before . . . before . . .” Kim sputtered. Her face went pale.
“Babe? Kim?”
Kim tossed her napkin down and stalked out of the restaurant.
The table went silent again for all of half a second. Adam could have smacked himself. Or better yet, Jared. “Go after her, you idiot.”
“But my burger’s still coming.”
“I’ll go.” Jo of all people stood up.
Adam tried not to look too surprised. “Jo?”
She touched his shoulder. “Have them pack my stuff if I’m not back, okay?”
He wanted to question her again. But instead he nodded. “Okay.”
What the hell was Jo’s life?
She’d come to this island a veritable fortress of solitude, and now here she was, walking away from her overly concerned boyfriend to chase after a girl who, improbably enough, had actually become her friend. Not that it was entirely altruistic. Jared and Kim and Adam and she were the only ones who’d paired off this summer. They were the only ones really going through this kind of thing right now. The chance to talk about it with someone who understood… Well, that was why normal people had friends, wasn’t it?
By the time Jo chased her down, Kim had crossed the street. She was bent half over, her arms braced on the railing looking out over the beach below. Jo slowed. “Hey.”
Kim flinched, glancing over at her. “I’m fine.”
“Yeah. That’s what I say when I stalk away from all of my friends, too.”
Kim snorted at that, facing the water again. Jo didn’t offer anything else. She crossed to stand beside her, turning to lean her ass against the railing. A couple of quiet moments passed.
It was weird to see Kim like this. Jo and Adam’s relationship had been fraught with all this turmoil, while things between Jared and Kim had seemed so much simpler, at least from the outside.
“That time at the grocery store.” Jo paused, staring across the street at the restaurant where everybody else was probably sitting around talking about them. “You made it sound like it was casual.”
Kim chuckled sourly. “It was. We said it at the outset. We were just two people having a good time, no strings.” She finally looked over at Jo again. “He was such a dick when I met him, you know?”
“He still kind of is.”
“Yeah, but you don’t know him. There’s a lot more underneath. God.” She pushed her hair back from her face. “It was one of the best parts. He was a jerk, so staying casual was easy. No way I could get invested. Stupid me.”
Sounded nice. From their very first not-quite-kiss, Jo and Adam had been in way too deep. “What changed?”
“Everything. He’s just—he’s not like that when it’s the two of us. Not anymore.”
Jo chewed on her lip ring for a minute. “You really think you could make it work? After we leave?”
“Hell if I know. But the idea of not at least trying…”
“But if you try and it all falls apart…” Because this was the thing that had been killing her. “Wouldn’t it be better, in a way? Ending it before it goes to shit?”
Having something to hang on to. One good thing, one good memory. Didn’t Jo deserve that?
“But can you imagine it?” Kim raised her gaze toward the sky. “Never talking to him again? Not even a chance of getting to kiss him again?”
No. Jo couldn’t.
Kim smiled sadly. “Me neither.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Yell at him, mostly. He’ll either come to see it my way or he won’t.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“Then I guess it’ll have ended and gone to shit, too.”
Jo’s heart squeezed.
Across the street, a figure emerged from the restaurant. Jo squinted, but there wasn’t all that much question as to who it was; she’d recognize those shoulders anywhere. She waved at Adam, and he headed over, a plastic bag in his hand.
“You have no idea how you look at him, do you?”
Jo jerked her head to Kim. “I—What?”
But Kim just patted her shoulder. “Good luck.”
“Do I need it?”
“Tonight? I’m pretty sure we both do.” Kim turned to Adam as he approached. “Is the asshole still in there?”
“Yup.”
“Well, here goes nothing.” She smiled at Jo. “Thanks, by the way. For coming after me.”
“No problem.” Jo had a feeling she was the one who should be thanking her.
With that, Kim took off, leaving Jo and Adam alone. “She okay?” he asked.
“She will be.”
Leaning against the railing beside her, he held up the bag. “I had them box up both our stuff.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“I know, but…” His mouth did something complicated. “I was kind of ready to be away from them all.”
And a part of her wanted to run. She’d been avoiding this conversation more or less since they’d started whatever it was they were doing together. Avoiding thinking about it and avoiding giving Adam opportunities to bring it up. But they were running out of time, and Kim had all but started it for them anyway.
There really wasn’t any more holding back.
“Okay,” she said.
When he held out his hand, she took it. And with a sinking feeling, she let him lead the way.
