Page 28

Twenty-Six

My smile faltered, watching Adam slide down in the bed, lying on his side, propping his head on his hand, mirroring me, waiting for my answer with great amusement.

I shrugged. “Nothing, pretty dull year, really.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“You seemed pretty frantic about me looking at it.”

I scoffed. “That would be any girl’s reaction if someone went to look in their diary, some things are just … private.”

Adam was studying my face, dubious about my answer; it always unnerved me how he could see through me with those eyes. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” He nudged me with his foot, the act playful, but his eyes were serious. He meant what he said.

I wasn’t so sure. To tell him all would be to give him all, to divulge my deepest, darkest secret.

A secret that ran the risk of ending everything.

What if it came out? There would be no more movie nights, or casually sleeping in each other’s beds, sipping drinks and bumming rides.

It would all change in one fell swoop, and I think I would prefer to live a lifetime of unrequited love with my best friend than run the risk of bringing awkwardness into our relationship that would change things forever.

“Okay, how about this?” Adam began. “If you can guess what I’m thinking then you have to tell me about 1999.”

“Whatever. As if you would be honest about it, you just want to know.”

“I’ll be honest. Let’s face it; you’re pretty crap at mind reading. The odds are in your favour.”

I squinted knowingly at him. “I don’t know, sounds like entrapment to me.”

“Only one way to find out.” Adam wiggled his eyebrows.

“So if I guess correctly I am essentially being punished. How does that seem fair? What’s in for me?”

“If you guess wrong, I’ll tell you what I’m thinking.”

Whoopty doo.

“Why do I feel like you are leading me down a rabbit hole?”

“Oh, ye of little faith; come on, what am I thinking?”

I smirked. For once I really didn’t want to be right; the hope would be that I would get my answer wrong and the secrets of 1999 stayed long buried. So I narrowed my eyes, staring intently into Adam’s, pretending to concentrate with every fibre of my being.

“You’re thinking … wait a minute,” I said, sitting upright. Reaching over to my bedside drawer, I grabbed an old phone bill and a pen. I tore off a strip of paper from the corner, handing it over to Adam. “Write down what you’re thinking, then I know you’re telling the truth.”

“Geez, where’s the trust?”

“Do it.” I handed it to him.

“Okay, fine, but just make sure your guess is realistic.”

I shrugged. “Anything could be going on in your mind, how am I to know?”

Adam glanced up from the paper he was writing on, a little secret smile planted across his face. God he looked sexy when he did that. He completed it, folding up the paper. I held my hand out but he kept it away from my grasp.

“Uh-uh, this time I’m the storyteller.”

I shook my head. Would this night ever end? Although, I really didn’t want it to.

“Fine,” I said. “Sit up.”

Adam shifted upright. I sat in front of him, crossing my legs. There we sat on the bed, face to face in the dim lamp-lit room, looking as though we were about to perform a séance or something.

If I had the unlikely misfortune of guessing what was on the paper I was doomed, because I knew that Adam would insist on seeing the diary.

That would be the stipulation. I had no doubt about that.

The odds were in my favour, so as I looked directly into Adam’s eyes, perhaps taking longer than I needed to enjoy the moment, I cocked my brow.

“You’re thinking, you just want to go to sleep already.”

Please be wrong. Please be wrong.

Adam maintained his best poker face, so serious was his composure I started to panic, but none more so than when he broke into a slow, wolfish smile.

Oh my God, please don’t let it be the answer.

Adam shook his head. “Wrong.”

YES! My secret was safe.

“Happy?”

“Delighted. So come on, spill. What were you actually thinking?” I bounced on the mattress, thrilled by my triumph.

Adam’s eyes ticked over my face; all humour slipped away once more.

I could feel myself frozen under the weight of those eyes, eyes that dipped to my mouth for the briefest moment before looking back up into mine.

Time and silence stretched out to the point where I didn’t think he would tell me, that I would just have to take the paper and read it for myself, but before I moved into doing that very thing, Adam broke the silence.

“I was thinking … what it would be like to kiss you.”

I stilled, my eyes wide, ticking over the serious lines of Adam’s face, waiting for him to break out into laughter. I don’t think I would have coped if he had laughed at the moment.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he handed the folded-up square of paper to me. I slowly took it from him, without once tearing my eyes from his. I swallowed; my mouth had suddenly gone painfully dry. I unfolded the note to reveal the very thing he had just said to me.

I read it over and over again, barely believing it was real.

Had I somehow fallen asleep and this was a dream?

A very, very realistic dream. Now I was the one controlling the silence.

I was the serious one. My questioning eyes lifted to Adam, who was unmoving, unwavering in his position opposite me as he watched me intently.

I wasn’t speechless—shocked, hell, yes, I was—but I had had the response in my head the minute the words tumbled out of his mouth; it was only now I had the ability to put the words into motion.

I swallowed once more, staring intently at him. “Then why don’t you?”