I close my eyes and take another deep breath as he belts the chorus with so much emotion in his voice; it’s no wonder all these girls are in love with him.
Adam leans down and presses his lips to my ear. “Remember the excuse you gave me when you rejected my offer to take you on a date?”
I think about the day he almost ran me over with his truck when I was running away from the party, and Joanie, five weeks ago. I told him I couldn’t go to lunch with him because I was sleeping in late.
It dawns on me that he’s listening to “Sleepyhead” and thinking of that day.
I turn around and face him because I can’t watch Chris and listen to this song and listen to Adam say this all at the same time. Adam lifts my chin and his eyes search my face for something. He knows something is off, but he can’t quite figure it out. I force a smile, but he doesn’t look convinced. I guzzle down the rest of my glass of water and finally the song ends. I let out a deep sigh as I turn around again.
The rest of the set is comprised of songs I don’t think were inspired by me and a few covers. I’m feeling really good about myself for making it through the entire concert until the last song starts.
I’ve never heard the title track of Chris’s album, Relentless. The single hasn’t been released yet, but as soon as I hear the first few lines, I know it’s about us.
“We kissed under the trees, and talked about missing things. I wish I could have held you in; held in the heat of your breath; held onto you and I at our best.”
I do the one thing I think can save me from this moment. I spin around, pull Adam’s face to mine, and kiss him. Not a hard, hungry kiss, but a slow, sensual kiss. The kind of kiss that makes time stop and everything disappear. All I can feel is the curve of his mouth as it fits into mine. All I can smell is the faint hint of beer on his lips. All I can taste is the slightly sweet alcohol on his tongue.
“Having fun?” Joanie shouts.
“Ouch!” Adam yelps as I accidentally bite down on the tip of his tongue.
“Sorry!” I stroke his cheek and kiss the corner of his mouth, trying to ignore the fact that somewhere behind me Joanie is watching us.
“I’m okay,” he says, then licks my cheek to prove it.
“Ew!” I squeal and he laughs.
“Aren’t you two adorable?” Joanie yells into the back of my head.
She’s obviously drunk. I should ignore her, but I’m so tired of her shit. I turn around and look her in the eye so she knows I know she’s there. Then I turn back to Adam and kiss him—hard this time.
I can hear her cackling behind me and I break away before I round on her. “Fuck off, Joanie!”
“You sure moved on quickly. What would Chris think?”
I take a step forward to get in her face and Adam’s hands lock around my arms. “Chris and I aren’t together anymore!”
“You know what I’m talking about!”
The song ends and she smiles as she spins around, cups her hands over her mouth, and shouts, “CHRIS! CLAIRE GAVE YOUR BABY UP FOR ADOPTION!”
The room is dead silent as Chris’s eyes dart over the crowd toward Joanie’s voice and lock on me. I’m frozen. This can’t be happening.
Then Adam’s hands fall away from my arms and I know I’m alone. I’m more alone in this moment than I have ever been in my life, with the weight of hundreds of eyes pressing in on me.
Chapter Twenty
Relentless Decisions
BEFORE ANYBODY CAN STOP ME, I dart for the exit. I dodge Senia as she reaches for me, pushing aside anyone who gets in my way. I need to get out of here. I burst through the exit onto Blount Street and the rain pours down on me, giving new meaning to the name Pour House.
I glance up and down the street, trying to figure out which direction we came from the hotel, but I can’t see anything I recognize through the relentless rain. It doesn’t matter. I probably won’t be staying at the hotel tonight anyway. Adam won’t want anything to do with me after this.
I take off in the direction we came from the restaurant and race past Bida Manda. I’ve taken no more than ten steps before someone grabs my wrist and spins me around, but it’s not who I expect.
It’s Chris.
“Oh, God,” I whimper.
It’s happening. The day I’ve been dreading for almost a year.
“What the fuck?” he shouts, looking as confused as I felt the day I found out I was pregnant. “Claire, please tell me it’s not true.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper over and over. “I’m so sorry.”
I’m only vaguely aware of the crowd forming around us. The hands are everywhere, reaching for me, reaching for him. Suddenly, we’re both being pulled away. My feet leave the pavement and I’m floating toward an open car door. I’m stuffed inside and the door is slammed shut. The tires squeal as the car drives off.