Come What May by Faith Sullivan

Author:Faith Sullivan [Sullivan, Faith]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
Published: 2013-05-22T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Adam

Jada’s awfully quiet today. It’s not like her. But that prick sure did a number on her. Some guys just can’t handle rejection.

Sure, when my girlfriend in California dumped me I didn’t take it very well. Hell, I moved across the country. But I didn’t stand on her front porch and berate her—even if I wanted to. Because deep down I was still in love with her, and I’d never choose to deliberately hurt her. No matter how much she put me through, I couldn’t do that to her. I’m not one to scream obscenities or pick a fight with the guy she was seeing behind my back. It’s not who I am.

The rain gathers on the windshield, obscuring our vision, but there’s no point in keeping the wipers running while we’re parked. Our breath starts to fog up the glass. From the outside, I bet it looks like we’re having a steamy make out session in here. I try not to stare at Jada’s chest as her breasts strain against the black fabric of her uniform. She usually tries to cover up her curves by wearing a jacket or untucking her top a bit so that it fits a little looser. But today, it’s tight against her like a second skin. I’ve been trying to keep my eyes to myself all day, but I’m failing miserably. I never thought having a female partner would be so distracting.

“Did I ever tell you about the guy who tried to pick me up at a car wash?” Her voice directs my gaze back up to her face, but she’s fully aware of what captured my attention. I still can’t figure out if she likes it or if it annoys her. She doesn’t give me many clues. Do I turn her on or creep her out?

“No, I don’t think we covered that territory yet.” It’s amazing how much we know about each other now. Sitting hours on end, we’ve exhausted nearly every topic of conversation. I know all her likes—coffee ice cream, the Dallas Cowboys, Justin Timberlake—and all of her dislikes—early mornings, tuna fish, reality TV. I’ve heard about practically every member of her family down to her second cousins. She’s seen me at my worst—sick as a dog, in a bad mood, hungover. There’s nothing I really hide from her any more, except one thing. One major thing.

“It was a few days before the end of junior year, and I was flying high. I had on these really cute capris. It was like seventy degrees. A perfect spring day—the sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky. I thought I was hot shit. I was feeling good about myself and about where my life was going with nothing but a whole summer of freedom ahead of me.” She’s laying it on thick. She knows I enjoy a good story. “I go back to the change machine, and there’s this guy from my church standing there. He’s super quiet. I don’t think he ever said two words to me before.

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