And then something magnificent happens. When the sun finally dips behind the skyline, the tree above us comes to life. Tiny lights scattered among the leaves twinkle like fireflies, making the night glow. My heart climbs up my throat and makes a home there, stealing every word I want to speak. When my gaze finds Adam’s, soft and electric at the same time, I don’t know if everything inside me stops working, or if something inside me restarts. It just feels different , and I’m thrown by the sudden imbalance, the need to reach out and grasp this man, like he’s my center of gravity.
“Do you like them? They’re solar powered. I was worried they wouldn’t get enough sunlight hidden in the trees, so I laid them out in my backyard all day.” He runs an anxious hand over the nape of his neck. “I thought we’d be able to stay longer if we had some light. Then I could keep you longer.”
“You can keep me forever,” accidentally slips past my lips, and I clap a hand over my filthy, traitorous mouth.
Adam grins. “Careful. I might take you up on that.” He twines our fingers together, a warmth I don’t want to lose. “Sounds like my type of forever.”
He climbs to his feet, pulling me with him, and his smile lights my whole world on fire.
“Dance with me, Rosie.”
“D-dance? But…there’s no music.”
“Don’t need it.” He winks, tugging on my hand. “Now come here.”
I do, stumbling over my footing, and Adam catches me against his solid chest, his deep laugh rolling down my neck before he whispers that nickname that thrills me and pulls at so many lost memories too.
“Trouble.”
“Maybe it’s you who’s trouble.”
Broad hands coast over my hips, fingertips digging in as we sway slowly together, the leaves rustling in the summer breeze and the gentle buzz of cicadas singing a soft tune in time with the husky breath that kisses my neck when Adam dips his mouth there.
His palm skates up my spine, curving over the nape of my neck, where he squeezes ever so gently. “The only trouble I want to get into, Rosie…it’s with you.”
Soft lips brush my temple before he settles his chin on my head as we dance beneath the twinkling lights and the stars above us.
It’s nearly eleven when we start packing everything away, and my head feels full of air and butterflies. It’s a happy, carefree place to be, and because it almost never is, I hold onto it with all my might. It’s a feeling I could get lost in, intoxicating and addictive, and I realize how easily Adam did exactly what he said he would: he took control, and in turn, I let go.
I let go of the expectations, the rules, the what-ifs. I let go of the questions that lead to overthinking, and I just…existed.
I watch as Adam neatly tucks everything away in his picnic basket and bag before hooking them off his shoulder, the crook of his elbow, my sun hat nabbed between the tips of his fingers.
I slip my hand into his. “Thank you.”
He looks at our hands, throat bobbing. “For what?”
“For showing me it’s okay to let go sometimes.”
He squeezes my fingers, lifts my hand to his lips, and brushes a kiss across my knuckles before towing me through the park to a midnight blue park where he throws everything inside.
“Did you have fun?” he asks, a spark of uncertainty in his gaze, a hopeful rasp to his tone.
So I wrap my arms around his middle and hold him tight. “I had the best time, Adam. Thank you so much for a beautiful night.”
“Okay. Cool. Thank you so much for being beautiful. No. No. Fuck. Shit.” He rips me off him, holding me at arm’s length. “That’s not what I meant. I mean, I think you’re beautiful, obviously. Obviously I think you’re beautiful.” He shoves his fingers through his curls and sighs. “This is the worst. I’m the worst. Now I’m nervous again.”
I snicker-snort, then clap my hand over the obnoxious sound. Just like that, Adam’s nerves vanish, an arrogant smirk tipping the side of his mouth.
“Why do you keep doing that?”
I twine my hair around my finger. “Doing what?”
“Covering your laugh.”
“It’s not a laugh. It’s some sort of strangled, dying animal sound, and it’s embarrassing.”
“Okay, well that’ll be weird.”
“What will be weird?”
“When someone asks me what my favorite sound is, and I have to describe it like that.”
I blink up at him. “You’re deranged.”
Chuckling, he takes my hand and heads down the sidewalk. “C’mon. Where’d you park?”
“Oh, I didn’t.”
His gaze swings my way. “You didn’t?”
“I don’t have a car.”
“Oh. Did someone drop you off?”
“No.”
“Is…someone picking you up?”
Another snicker-snort, but I’m less embarrassed about this one. “No, Adam.”
“Then how did you…how are you gonna…” He scratches his head. “Get home safely?”
“The same way I came. I’m going to take a bus.”
Adam hums to himself, then pulls me around, heading back the way we came.
“The bus stop is the other way.”
“And my truck is this way.”
“Adam—”
“It’s late. You’re not walking and taking the bus by yourself.”
“But I—”
“Nonnegotiable.” He opens the passenger door. “Unless you want me to follow behind you the entire way in my truck. So I guess it’s a little negotiable.” He grins at my crossed arms and hiked brow. “You’re supposed to be working on letting go, and I’m supposed to be working on being more in control, remember?”
I jab my finger into his chest. “Don’t turn my own words around on me.”
He laughs as I start climbing into the seat, and as my frustration grows with the difficult task, amusement rolls off him in waves.
“Something you wanna say?” I grunt as I hike a leg up in a particularly charming fashion in my sundress.
“I was about to ask you the same thing. ‘Can you help me, Adam? I seem to be slightly too short to do this myself,’ might be a good place to start.”
My head swivels in slow motion to glare at him over my shoulder.
He waits, elbow leaning on the window frame, cheek resting in his hand, and he even pumps his damn brows. “Yes, Rosie?”
“You’re insufferable.” I grab the center console, but before I can pull myself up, Adam grips my waist and lifts me effortlessly into the seat. He leans over me, clicking my seat belt into place.
“There ya go. That wasn’t so hard.” He taps the handle above my head. “For future reference, if you grab hold of this and plant your foot on the step, you can swing yourself right up. Or I can keep lifting you in.” He shrugs. “I personally prefer option two, ’cause then I get to check out your ass.” Before he shuts the door, he winks, and when he climbs into the truck, he simply asks for my address like he didn’t just say that.
The drive across Vancouver is peaceful. So peaceful, in fact, that when I wake with Adam’s hand on my knee and his soft voice in my ear and find we’re parked out front of my apartment building, I gasp.