Relentless(33)

Babydoll.

I try not to grin too widely as I head for the sofa while he heads back to the bathroom. I can hear a blow-dryer whining as I gaze around the living room, taking in the various objects I’d never really paid too much attention to with Adam providing such a delicious distraction. In the corner, on top of his drafting table, I glimpse blueprints for some kind of building and my curiosity gets the best of me. I want to know what he spends his time looking at all those long hours we’re apart.

I creep across the carpet to the desk and push the stool aside so I can get a better look at the prints. It looks like plans for a house, though I can’t understand why he would have these. He told me his father’s construction company only builds government buildings like prisons and military facilities.

I pull up the corner of the first page to see what’s underneath when Adam’s voice startles me.

“What are you doing?”

My heart hammers against my chest as I turn away from the drafting table and find him standing right next to me. “I was just looking.”

His nostrils are flaring and I have a horrible feeling I’ve violated some sort of privacy rule I wasn’t aware of.

“That’s a project I’ve been working on for a few years. It’s not finished yet.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s go.”

The first ten minutes of the drive to his uncle’s ranch are filled with awkward silence followed by another ten minutes of bad pop music once he puts on the radio. When a Chris Knight song comes on, I quickly turn down the volume and pull my iPhone out of my purse. He changes lanes on the highway then turns to me, his expression still solemn.

“I’m sorry if you think I’m being unnecessarily mysterious about those house plans. I know you weren’t snooping around. They’re right out there where everyone can see them. But I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”

“Does it have to do with why you’re still working for your dad even though you detest it?”

“Sort of, yeah.”

I hold up my phone and nod at the stereo. “Can you plug this in?”

He reaches across the console and takes the iPhone from my hand. It takes him a minute to plug it into his stereo as he’s driving. He opens my music app and begins scrolling through the list of songs.

“You should let me do that. You’re driving.”

I reach for the phone, but he switches it to his left hand so I can’t reach it. “Don’t worry about that. I’m paying attention.”

He scrolls for another minute or so until he settles on a song. The first notes play as he hands the phone back to me.

“Waiting in Vain?” I say. “Really? Could you be any more of a cliché? You surf, you smoke weed, and you listen to Bob Marley.”

“Just shut up and listen to the song. This is my song for you.”

I listen to the lyrics carefully, though I already know them by heart. Bob Marley songs always remind me of the spontaneous acoustic concert Chris put on for me and a few of our friends in his parents’ garage. He performed an entire set of Bob Marley songs and, though he never dedicated this song to me, it was one of his favorites.

I gaze out at the green hills along highway 74, afraid that if I look at Adam he’ll see my traitorous thoughts. When the song ends, I feel like I’m expected to comment on it, but I don’t know what to say. Music was something I shared with Chris. It was such a huge part of our relationship that I had to delete half my music collection after we broke up because it was driving me insane.

Adam grabs my hand and I finally turn to him. “I know you’ve got a lot on your mind and meeting my parents right now probably isn’t at the top of your bucket list, but I want you to know that you can talk to me about it—any of it. Even if you think that what you have to say will make me uncomfortable. I’m here for you. Okay?”

I nod and give his hand a reassuring squeeze then go back to gazing out the window. There are some things that can’t be discussed with a new boyfriend, like the songs that remind you of your ex. There are other things that can’t be discussed with anyone.

Three hours later, we arrive at Adam’s Uncle Harvey’s 91-acre ranch near the outskirts of Charlotte. I count eleven cars and trucks parked in a dirt lot outside a pale-yellow, two-story house with a gorgeous wrap-around porch. As soon as Adam parks his truck, two children, a boy and a girl, who look about eight or nine years old come running outside to greet him.

The girl throws her arms around Adam’s neck and he laughs as he spins her around. It’s a picture-perfect Hallmark moment and I feel a little like I’m intruding, so I stay on the passenger side of the truck and wait for them to finish their greetings. The boy hugs Adam around the waist and I can see the adoration in his face as he closes his eyes and buries his cheek in Adam’s stomach.