He's not in his tux anymore, just simple jeans and t-shirt, which doesn't make him any less devastating. "Hi," I say.
Adam doesn't hesitate, pulling me into a kiss right there on the doorstep. I'm startled and god, I could live for surprises like these. The kiss reaches down into my gut and pulls, tugging pleasure and arousal through my whole body. The kiss seems almost desperate, like he’s trying to convince himself that I’m real.
"Hi," he says, when he pulls away, leaving me dazed. "I missed you."
"Me too."
I pull him into the apartment and shut the door, noticing now that he has a messenger bag slung over his shoulder. "Are you planning on staying over again?" I really wouldn't mind that. In fact, I'd love it.
"I wish I could," he says, "but I have to be at the hospital at midnight."
"Oh." I try not to show my disappointment.
"But," he says, "I'm going to stay as long as I can." Adam slides his bag off his shoulder. "I kept my promise and brought you a present, but I want you to close your eyes."
"Ooookay," I say. I don't usually love surprises, due largely in part to the prom night incident, but I'll trust him this time. I go into the living room and sit on the couch again. If I'm going to have a surprise then I'm at least going to be comfortable while I do it.
I feel his weight on the couch next to me, and he slips something into my hands. It's a book. All right, a book is a good surprise. But what book? "Can I open?"
"Yes."
I do, and...oh my god. I'm holding what must be the most beautiful edition of World's Waterfall that I've ever seen. The dust cover is embossed and has gold details and wow. "This is beautiful," I say. Flipping the cover open, my stomach does a little flip-flop. It's signed. I've always wanted a signed copy of these books, but I've never had a chance. The author is notoriously reclusive and almost never does signings. "How did you get this?"
His smile is tiny and infuriating. "I have my ways."
"This is amazing, I mean, what made you think of this?"
Adam points to the bookshelf. "I saw those last night," he says. "And I remembered that you liked them in high school."
There's something in my chest and I'm not sure if it's pain or relief or something entirely different. "You remember that?"
"Of course I do,” he says. “I remember a lot more than you probably think I do. Even if it’s stuff you don’t want to remember.”
“Yeah.”
He clears his throat. “It’s why I asked about your life. I want to know about it, and I hope to god it was better than high school because almost everyone in that school let you down. Including me.”
“Adam,” I say. “That’s not your responsibility.”
“I know, but I still want to know everything.”
I hold the book to my chest—I don’t want to let it go yet. “After college, Lorraine and I moved here together. We were roommates for a while, but eventually we each wanted our own space. It took a few years for me to get the job at my firm, and I worked some weird temp jobs, but I look back on those years happily, even if they were hard. I went through a lot of therapy. All in all I’ve had a good life.”
He’s slipped closer while I was talking, and I’m aware of the distance between us. “How are your parents?”
“You really want to talk about my parents right now?” I ask, looking at his lips.
“I really want to know everything about you,” he says, “but you’re right. Maybe it can wait.”
I put the book carefully down onto the coffee table, and then I'm kissing him. He kisses me back, lips crushing mine and god, I could kiss him forever. We collapse onto the couch together, tangled together just like we were last night, but this doesn't feel as charged. This feels deliciously comfortable and comforting. Adam's hand slips behind my neck, tipping my face closer to his so he can kiss me more deeply, and I feel myself growing wet and that growing need in my stomach that wants more of him and what we had last night and this morning.
Just like at the door, there's an edge to Adam's kiss, and I suddenly remember where he just was. I pull back far enough for me to see his face, and I love that we're this close, pressed up against one another. "How did things go with your dad?"
Adam's face darkens. "As well as they ever go with him, I suppose."
"What happened?"
He doesn't say anything, but I feel like I watch a whole journey on his face. Pain and desperation and fear, and suddenly he focuses on me again, and it's like the rest of it disappears. "I'm sorry, I can't talk about it yet."
There's a tiny stab of disappointment, but I check it. It's hard to believe that this has been less than a day, but it has. I can't expect him to confide in me like that yet. "That's okay."
"Thank you," he kisses me softly and I melt against him. My shirt has ridden up and now his fingers are teasing my skin and it's driving me a little mad. "I'm going to be doing marathon shifts at the hospital for a few days. I'll be sleeping there. So I probably won't be able to see you, or call. I'll text when I can."
"That's okay," I say, laughing. "It's your job."
"I just didn't want you to think that I was disappearing."
I smile. "Thank you."
Leaning in, he presses his lips to my neck, tasting me with his tongue. "What were you doing before I got here?"
"Reading," I say. "Waiting for you."
"What were you reading?" His mouth is still on my skin, hands pushing my shirt up further so I'm more exposed.
I try to focus on the question, but he's making it very difficult. "A business book," I say. "So I can counsel my clients better."
He chuckles. "How very responsible of you."
"It's actually interesting."
"Tell me," he says, suddenly pulling me on top of him, and tugging at my shirt until I let him tug it off. Now I'm straddling him, looking down, and very much feeling how hard he is under my hips.
"Umm..." I'm not sure how I'm supposed to talk when all I can think about is fucking him. I can't remember any words. What are words? Why do they matter when this is happening?
Adam grins. "Go ahead."
"The book was about Parkinson's Law." He's undoing his belt, and my mouth goes dry. I stammer out the rest. "Which says that demand swells to meet supply."
"Isn't that backwards?"
"Not when you're talking about money," I say, transfixed by him and his hands as he grabs his cock and rolls on a condom. "Businesses get these infuses of money, and they justify reasons to spend it, and suddenly they have no cash flow."
"Fascinating," he says.
"Yeah."
"So," he tucks his fingers in the waistband of my pants and tugs them down. "Along with the book, I brought a very large box of condoms. Are you saying that the demand for them is going to swell to meet the supply I brought?"
I rise up just enough to let him slip into me, and I moan. "I think the demand for those was already there."