something about Oprah, then proceeded to give some crazy-ass story about Elyse being in bed with some gay guy. The explanation left Kim dizzy.
And pissed Groucho off. The big orange cat leaped onto Adam’s thigh with claws outstretched.
“Grouch, that’s bad,” she remarked as Adam tried to shake him off. Truthfully, she wasn’t too inclined to intervene. “Quit it.”
“Shit.” Adam rubbed his thigh once Groucho skedaddled. “That stupid cat’s got razor blades.”
Kim shook her head in a pitying and oh-so-superior way. “You really are a sad case, aren’t you, Vostek? You get in a fight with your Elyse, and instead of talking it out with her, you drive your ass over here.”
His face got red again. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re jealous of this guy friend of hers—this gay guy—and instead of admitting it, telling her you’re scared to lose her, you come and pester my ass. Man, how chickenshit.”
Uh-huh. And you’re not just as chickenshit, hiding from Charlie? Because he makes you feel things you’re afraid to feel?
“Well, I’m sorry.” Adam wobbled to his feet all hurt and huffy. “Sorry you think I’m such an asshole. I’ll leave, then, so you don’t have to put up with me.”
“Oh, shut up and sit down,” Kim snarled, disgusted with him and herself. “You’re not going anywhere after what, four beers?” Her own beer tasted bitter, too bitter to finish. She set it on the coffee table. “You need to sober up. The coffee’s in the cupboard, you know where. Make it yourself. I’m not waiting on your ass. As soon as I re-pot my spider plant, I’m heading to bed. You can crash on the futon tonight.”
“Okay.” His pitiful acquiescence made her sorry for him, and that pissed her off.
“And don’t be thinking you’re getting any sex off of me,” she growled, though he hadn’t even attempted a pass. “The gravy train has left the station, I don’t care how pathetic you look.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
So Kim repotted her plant and went to bed, angry and confused. Angry that she spent so much time pursuing Adam, knowing he’d never love her.
And confused because she couldn’t stop thinking
about another man—one who had the power to hurt her more than Adam ever could.
****
Kim rose around ten o’clock the next morning and checked on Adam snoring away, a rumpled, sweaty, unshaven mess. She turned off the TV, which had been left on all night, and made herself some coffee.
Groucho again lay in the armchair, playing her bodyguard and glaring at Adam fiercely. Make a move, you’re dead meat, dude.
“It’s okay,” she told the cat. “That ship has sailed.”
Had she ever really been in love with Adam?
She’d thought so, had certainly wasted plenty of time trying to get him to offer more than good times and sex. Had she only told herself it was love, to justify the time and effort she expended?
Or was it to justify the good times and sex? If she loved Adam, then sleeping with him didn’t make her the slut her parents thought she was. And if he loved her back, then she was a good person, worthy of respect.
She’d drive herself crazy trying to figure it all out. And though a little sting still lingered, she knew she could let him go. Hell, she had to. He wasn’t hers, never had been. He belonged to Elyse, even if he was too dumb to know it yet.
“Be glad you’re a cat,” she told Groucho.
I am , his steady green gaze replied. You people are too messed up.
An hour later, she’d showered and dressed while Adam still lay sawing wood. Someone tapped on the door. She opened it to find Charlie carrying a white and orange box and balancing two coffees in a cardboard tray on top of it. “I come bearing donuts.”
His smile was crooked, as though he half-expected her to slam the door in his face.
“Well. Come on in,” she told him, taking the tray and leading him inside. Her skin prickled with excitement, but she tried to
And pissed Groucho off. The big orange cat leaped onto Adam’s thigh with claws outstretched.
“Grouch, that’s bad,” she remarked as Adam tried to shake him off. Truthfully, she wasn’t too inclined to intervene. “Quit it.”
“Shit.” Adam rubbed his thigh once Groucho skedaddled. “That stupid cat’s got razor blades.”
Kim shook her head in a pitying and oh-so-superior way. “You really are a sad case, aren’t you, Vostek? You get in a fight with your Elyse, and instead of talking it out with her, you drive your ass over here.”
His face got red again. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re jealous of this guy friend of hers—this gay guy—and instead of admitting it, telling her you’re scared to lose her, you come and pester my ass. Man, how chickenshit.”
Uh-huh. And you’re not just as chickenshit, hiding from Charlie? Because he makes you feel things you’re afraid to feel?
“Well, I’m sorry.” Adam wobbled to his feet all hurt and huffy. “Sorry you think I’m such an asshole. I’ll leave, then, so you don’t have to put up with me.”
“Oh, shut up and sit down,” Kim snarled, disgusted with him and herself. “You’re not going anywhere after what, four beers?” Her own beer tasted bitter, too bitter to finish. She set it on the coffee table. “You need to sober up. The coffee’s in the cupboard, you know where. Make it yourself. I’m not waiting on your ass. As soon as I re-pot my spider plant, I’m heading to bed. You can crash on the futon tonight.”
“Okay.” His pitiful acquiescence made her sorry for him, and that pissed her off.
“And don’t be thinking you’re getting any sex off of me,” she growled, though he hadn’t even attempted a pass. “The gravy train has left the station, I don’t care how pathetic you look.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
So Kim repotted her plant and went to bed, angry and confused. Angry that she spent so much time pursuing Adam, knowing he’d never love her.
And confused because she couldn’t stop thinking
about another man—one who had the power to hurt her more than Adam ever could.
****
Kim rose around ten o’clock the next morning and checked on Adam snoring away, a rumpled, sweaty, unshaven mess. She turned off the TV, which had been left on all night, and made herself some coffee.
Groucho again lay in the armchair, playing her bodyguard and glaring at Adam fiercely. Make a move, you’re dead meat, dude.
“It’s okay,” she told the cat. “That ship has sailed.”
Had she ever really been in love with Adam?
She’d thought so, had certainly wasted plenty of time trying to get him to offer more than good times and sex. Had she only told herself it was love, to justify the time and effort she expended?
Or was it to justify the good times and sex? If she loved Adam, then sleeping with him didn’t make her the slut her parents thought she was. And if he loved her back, then she was a good person, worthy of respect.
She’d drive herself crazy trying to figure it all out. And though a little sting still lingered, she knew she could let him go. Hell, she had to. He wasn’t hers, never had been. He belonged to Elyse, even if he was too dumb to know it yet.
“Be glad you’re a cat,” she told Groucho.
I am , his steady green gaze replied. You people are too messed up.
An hour later, she’d showered and dressed while Adam still lay sawing wood. Someone tapped on the door. She opened it to find Charlie carrying a white and orange box and balancing two coffees in a cardboard tray on top of it. “I come bearing donuts.”
His smile was crooked, as though he half-expected her to slam the door in his face.
“Well. Come on in,” she told him, taking the tray and leading him inside. Her skin prickled with excitement, but she tried to
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