Page 55 of Sunrises & Salvation

“And now he’s going to prison, like he should have all those years ago.” That’s all good and great, but not exactly what I was asking. He must sense my reticence because he says, “What’s wrong, baby?”

I shake my head, not wanting to ruin his happiness that the man who made his life difficult is finally being put away. I pull us closer to the shower, the warm air heating my skin. I step over the ledge and Adam follows my lead, still looking down at me with concern in his eyes.

He pushes back a stray lock of hair that falls across my forehead, swiping his hand across my head and resting his open palm on the back of my neck. His thick palm massages the tense knots, and I moan in appreciation. I can be happy, I can be. I am.

Adam kisses me, his lips moving against mine sensually. I kiss him back, feeling the brush of his tongue against mine.

“Will you tell me what’s wrong?” he asks, pulling back and holding us both under the water. I watch as it trickles down his neck and across his chest, down to his tight ab muscles.

“Nothing, it’s fine,” I tell him, leaning in until my lips press to his neck. His pulse thumps wildly under my lips.

“It’s not fine.” I grab the soap off the alcove behind him, squeezing it onto the loofah and sudsing it up to wash his body. The streaks of bubbles coat his skin and fill the shower with his warm, masculine signature smell.

“Is it Danielle?” he guesses, and my throat closes up. I try to swallow past the lump, but it’s no use. My emotions are already haywire from the long day, coupled with Adam’s injury. Everyone has a moment when they’ve been maxed out on feelings.

“Can we not talk about it? Please?” Adam doesn’t answer, but when he takes the loofah from me and washes me with gentle hands and presses kisses to my clean skin, my throat burns.

Adam turns off the water, and I hand him his towel as we both dry off in silence.

What was supposed to lead to sex has instead brought us to an awkward silence.

Adam wraps the towel around his waist, tucking the side in to hold it up.

I do the same and wait for his cue as to what we do now.

I never feel awkward with Adam, he’s the one person who understands me more than anyone.

He doesn’t force me to talk, like I asked.

Instead, he grabs my hand and leads me to the bedroom.

Picking out clothes from the drawers he packed with our stuff, he grabs a pair of khaki shorts from the bottom, black boxer briefs, a pair of ankle socks, and a beige cotton shirt with a stack of books drawn on the front.

I haven’t seen the shirt before, but he stands up, grabbing one of my arms and lifting it.

I let him do the same to the other, holding both of them up as he slides the material down my arms and over my head.

Adam then untucks the towel from my waist, pulling the underwear up my thighs and then the shorts. He fastens them and then pulls the shirt over the top of the shorts so it’s not tucked into the waistband.

When he’s satisfied with the way I’m dressed, he repeats the process with his own clothes.

He bends over to slide his socks on, and that’s when I’ve had enough.

He does all this stuff for me and never pushes me to feel uncomfortable.

I can offer him a small piece of my insecurity, and he’ll take it and fix it. That’s what he does best, fix me.

“How is she?”

“Danielle? She’s good, I guess. We don’t talk often.

” He shrugs, unbothered by my question. He sits on the bed, the fluffy mattress and duvet sinking underneath his weight.

He pats the spot beside him, and I sit down, stiffly, leaving both feet on the floor as I keep my attention fixed on the framed picture on the wall.

The myriad of brown swirls cover the canvas and create an abstract sunrise.

“Why?” I ask, curious if he’s purposely being obtuse now.

“Why what?”

“Why don’t you talk often?” I want to reach over and shake him. And then kiss him, wanting to drop to my knees and beg him not to leave me, no matter how many issues I have.

“We grew apart, school got busy, and we decided that we really didn’t care what happened if people assumed we weren’t together anymore.”

“And that’s it?”

“That’s it. I graduated college and moved to Madison, not far from your parents.

She moved off to California, and she’s in her residency now.

I think she’s almost done, but I can’t be certain.

” A hysterical laugh bubbles out of me. Adam’s gaze darts to me, I can feel his eyes burning into the side of my head, but I’m staring at the painting still.

I was jealous. Actually jealous of Danielle.

Maybe I’m not as sane as I try to claim.

Adam clasps my chin in his hand, his grip not hard enough to bruise but hard enough to let me know he’s trying to prove a point. He jerks me, and I follow, swinging my gaze to meet his eyes.

“Are you jealous?” I don’t answer, attempting to drop my eyes so he can’t see the guilt in them.

It doesn’t make sense, and I know it doesn’t.

And I don’t need him to tell me I’m acting psycho.

“Don’t take you fucking eyes off me’” he demands, and I feel a rush of pleasure at the gruffness of his words.

Nope, bad. We’re having a serious conversation. I lift my eyes to meet his.

“There is nothing, nothing , for you to be jealous about, Hunter. You’re it for me.

In this life and every one after. There is no me without you.

You bring me happiness. You are everything to me.

You always have been, and you always will be.

I will shout it from the rooftops to reassure you every day.

” His chest is heaving, but his eyes never leave mine.

“I—”

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry.” He tugs me into him and captures my lips in a brutal kiss, biting and tugging on my lower lip. I gasp at the sting of him breaking the sensitive skin, the taste of my blood flooding our mouths as he shoves his tongue to battle against mine.

“You’re mine, Hunter. And if I have to mark every square inch of your body to show it, I will.”