Page 30 of Sunrises & Salvation

HUNTER

T homas and I are both crammed into the back seat of Adam’s car, and Danielle is in the front seat, queuing up a podcast for the long drive to my parents’ house.

I keep seeing Adam trying to catch my eye in the rearview mirror, and every time he does, he smiles widely at me.

I have to cover my mouth with my hand to hide my own.

I feel awful thinking about how happy Adam has been with me since that night in my dorm room. I spent the night in his room… okay, I spent two nights in his room, but nothing happened. We didn’t even kiss. At least, not while I was in his room.

Guilt churns in my stomach when I look at Thomas. I need to break up with him, but the selfish side of me doesn’t want to because he’s become a little bit of a staple in my life. His constant stream of attentiveness when he’s not in class or working is nice.

But Adam was right. I need someone to push me and push my boundaries. If I spend my whole life in my comfortable bubble, I’ll never get the experiences I’m craving.

Thomas puts his hand on my upper thigh, massaging the tense muscle through the thick layer of my jeans. I tense under his hand, and he leans in closer to me, his cool breath ghosting over the shell of my ear. “What’s wrong, babe?”

I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts away from Adam and focus on my boyfriend right beside me. I’m so going to hell, maybe Satan will feel bad for me because he understands that I hate confrontation, and the last thing I want to do is hurt Thomas.

Yeah, right.

“Nothing, just car sickness.”

“Do you need to stop? There’s a gas station about three miles away, we can take a break and get a snack for you.” Adam pipes up from the driver’s seat, concern etching his eyebrows.

“No, I’m fine. I’ll be fine,” I reiterate to both men.

Adam doesn’t look convinced, but Thomas keeps rubbing circles on my leg. Adam’s eyes drop to my leg, and I watch his nostrils flare.

Shaking my head, I hold his gaze.

He huffs in agitation, but turns his attention back to the road.

When we finally get to my parents’ house, Adam is cranky. Beyond cranky. He snapped at Danielle for changing a song he was in the middle of listening to. Then at Thomas, because he turned the AC on in the back, and it was too loud for him to be able to concentrate on the road.

He’s definitely cranky, but he still smiles at me when he helps me get the bags out of the back of his car.

My parents aren’t home, so I unlock the door and prop it open for everyone to trickle in behind me.

The fresh plate of baked cookies my mom left out for us is waiting perfectly in the center of their coffee table.

Danielle walks in and immediately begins dragging her stuff into my room, staking her claim on it. And I can’t blame her, because the other option would be sleeping in the living room with two guys.

Instead, it’s going to be me sharing the living room with two guys. And not in a hot way. In a why me, why does it have to be me, way.

“So what’s the plan?” Thomas asks, his overnight bag slung over his shoulder. I can see Adam’s eyes over Thomas’s shoulder, glaring at him. I roll mine heavenward, already regretting making plans for this weekend.

“We have the house to ourselves tonight; my parents aren’t coming back until tomorrow morning.

Then, I was thinking tomorrow we could explore downtown a little bit, they’re having a fair with carnival rides and lots of food vendors.

” My mouth starts to water when I think of the abundance of food I’m going to consume tomorrow.

Funnel cakes, fried Oreos, street tacos.

The options are endless. “Saturday, my parents talked about driving us to the lake and renting a boat for us, and then camping Saturday night.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” Thomas says, insincerely, and I tilt my head to the side looking at him.

“What? What’s wrong?” he shrugs, sitting down on the couch and pulling his shoes off.

Adam brushes past me, rubbing his hand across mine as he walks to grab a cookie off the plate, shoving the whole thing in his mouth.

“Do you have water?” he asks me, mouth full and the crumbs falling onto the table.

“Tap.” I gesture at the faucet in the kitchen with the filter attached to it.

It’s still tap water, but it’s clean tap water and practically the same thing as bottled water.

I don’t know why he’s so anal about bottled drinks, they’re literally the exact same.

Stupid rich guy who’s used to wasting so much plastic.

“You don’t have any bottles?”

“No.”

“But last time, your mom handed me a water bottle when I asked for one.” I huff, a headache thrumming in my temples. The combination of Thomas and Adam this weekend is going to send me to an early grave.

“Okay, that was last time. Just get a cup out of the cabinet and get water. It’s all the same, I swear.

” His Adam’s apple bobs and his footsteps are light as he hesitantly creeps across the kitchen.

“On your left, three shelves up.” I watch as he wraps his hand around the blue glass cup, the crystal shining bright like his eyes.

Maybe that’s why I can’t stop staring at them all the time, they remind me of home.

Of cups from my childhood that my mom would fill to the brim with iced lemonade on the hot days, and milk to drink with my cookies while she would sit on the couch with me, both of us absorbed in whatever we were doing.

Reading or drawing for me, and reading or working on something on her laptop.

My dad never complained, he just watched his sports games with the volume on low so we could concentrate.

It’s what worked best for all of us in our own time.

A crash snaps me out of my thoughts as the beloved crystal glass shatters on the hard tile.

“Fuck,” Adam hisses, squatting down to pick up the pieces. I snap into action, rushing over to him and grabbing him by the shoulder. He’s shaking.

“Hey, let me go grab a broom. You’ll get glass in your hand.” I rub my hand across the nape of his neck, feeling the goosebumps and fine sheen of sweat there.

“Come on.” I pull him with more urgency to the table. He lets me lead him, not saying a word as I push him into the chair. I wet a washcloth and rub it across the back of his neck and his forehead. “Hold this here and I’ll be right back.”

My mom keeps the broom in the garage, so people don’t see it. Heaven forbid someone knows we actually sweep our house.

Back inside, Adam’s face is pale, and his finger is tapping out a rhythm on his upper thigh, lost in his own thoughts. At least he kept the rag on his forehead. I really hope he’s not getting sick.

I sweep up the glass, throwing it away in the trash can, and wet a paper towel to wipe across the floor to get the minuscule pieces.

Adam is still where I left him, his blue eyes wide and unseeing at the floor in front of him.

“What’s wrong?” I get on my knees in front of him and tilt his chin up so he can look at me. His eyes are red-rimmed, and he’s still shaking. His eyes are unfocused, staring through me.

“Adam,” I speak his name softly, trying to get him to look at me.

I can hear Thomas watching a video on his phone in the living room, and I’m so glad he’s not paying attention to what’s going on in here because even I can’t figure out what’s happening.

“Adam, love, look at me. What’s wrong?” I move my hand off his chin and stroke the back of my fingers down his cheek, feeling the cool, clammy skin.

Maybe he was only bitchy earlier because he doesn’t feel good, and now I feel awful for how I treated him over drinking tap water.

I should have just checked the fridge for him.

“Collins?” He blinks, his eyelashes dark and lined with tears.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m here, you’re okay,” I reassure him, keeping my hand on his cheek. The slight stubble grates against my fingers, but I secretly love it. It makes him look more masculine, and the soft pinch reminds me that even when we don’t feel real at times, we are.

“Oh fuck. I’m so sorry. I—” He cuts himself off, leaning down and putting his face in my neck. His tears start to soak through my shirt, and I cup his head in my hands, stroking the soft strands of his hair.

Thomas’ phone rings, and I hear him whisper hello into the receiver before he walks out the front door, securely shutting it behind him.

“Come on.” I keep him wrapped around me, and we stumble our way to the guest bathroom.

I turn on the water, silently apologizing to my parents for wasting the water.

Steam starts to fill the room, and I help Adam out of his shirt, peeling the fabric that’s already sticking to him away from his skin.

I try not to stare at his chest, I really do, because he’s not feeling well and I’m not taking advantage of him like that.

“Do you need medicine? What symptoms are you experiencing?” I ask, worrying, because if he’s sick, I’m canceling all our plans for this weekend, and Danielle and Thomas can go without us tomorrow. Nothing is more important to me than making sure Adam is okay.

“I’m fine,” he says, his voice still timid. But he’s not shaking anymore, so I’ll take that as a win.

“You’re not fine.” I sit on the floor, propping my back against the wall. I tug his hand, guiding him to sit on the floor between my legs, his back pressed against my chest.

His breath passes through him and into me while we sit there, letting the steam from the shower cover us in a thin sheen, making our bodies stick together.

I trail my fingers up and down his arms, tracing the veins protruding and feeling the life inside of him pulse rhythmically.

“Talk to me,” he whispers, his chest rattling on his exhale.

“About what?”

“Anything. I just need my mind off the memories.” What memories? I want to ask him, is he remembering how his parents used to act when he was sick? Is he sad they’re dead and wishing they were here to comfort him instead of me?

But I do as he asks, rambling my way through the plots of books that I love, one after another.

My voice starts to grow hoarse, and the water has turned cold, the steam no longer covering the mirror.

But all the while, I never stop. I feel his body relax against mine, his warm skin pressing against mine.

“I like your artwork,” he says when I finished the plot from the most recent book I read. I didn’t remember much, so I’m glad he finally spoke up. I wasn’t sure how much more I could have talked about.

“Thank you, it’s not much but?—”

“Don’t. Don’t do that. Stop selling yourself short, Collins. You’re amazing.” My face flushes under his praise.

“You have to say that, you want me to like you.”

“Do you not already like me?” His voice is teasing.

“Maybe.”

A knock on the door breaks us out of our happy bubble, and I tense underneath Adam.

“How long are you going to be in there, Adam? I’m starving, and Hunter said we could order pizza for dinner.” He turns his head, and when his eyes catch mine, I have to cover my mouth with my hand, not wanting the slightly unhinged laugh to burst free.

“I’m almost done. Where’s Hunter?” he asks innocently, and I shove him off me, and we both quietly fumble to stand up. I help Adam slip his shirt back on over his head, trailing my fingers down his abdomen. He shivers and his eyes heat.

Don’t, he mouths, and my face breaks into a Cheshire grin.

“I don’t know, Thomas has been outside on his phone for like an hour. Maybe he went somewhere.”

“Maybe. I’ll be out in a minute. Why don’t you go get Thomas?” My eyes widen, and he smirks at me. His discolored eyes lit up with mischief.

We wait, our ears pressed up to the door.

Adam cracks the door open, and he looks both ways before rushing out, and I follow behind him.

“Backyard,” I hiss on a whisper, darting out the back door. He nods his head and goes the opposite way, toward the front door.

When I get outside, I sit on the chair turned toward the fire pit my dad installed last year. Taking in the trees lining our backyard, there’s no sense of privacy back here. Maybe that should be the next thing on my dad’s agenda, he’s always looking for projects to keep him busy.

The crickets chirp, their music echoing in the night. The sunset colors the sky with a vast array of purple, pink, and yellow, a deep bruise battering its way across the clear night.

I inhale, breathing in the cool air, letting it absorb into my body and put me at peace.

While the sun falls into the night and the moon rises to take its place, I let the knowledge wash over me that things are about to change. And I have to be ready for it, no matter the worry or the fear of the unknown.

The one thing that matters the most to me right now is truly giving Adam a chance, and not letting my fear get in the way of something that could be great.