SWNOVELS Unravel Me: Chapter 22
“Why does he have so many toes? Is that normal? Cats are little freaks, aren’t they?”
“Mittens is polydactyl,” I tell Marco, scratching my fluffy friend’s chin. “He’s got extra toes. And cats are not little freaks. Little demons who terrorize you in the middle of the night, yes. But little freaks, never.”
“How many times have you asked Archie if you could bring a cat home?”
I frown, scooping Mittens against me. He purrs, nuzzling my cheek. “Too many to count. He won’t let me. Says he doesn’t want cat hair all over the furniture. Funny thing to say for someone who gets so excited when his new hats come in the mail for his cat photoshoots.”
Marco rolls his eyes, spinning around me so he can lean on the cat condos with one hip. He’s been following me around for the last fifteen minutes, waiting for Archie to finish work. “I’m ninety-nine percent sure he’s gonna be a crazy cat dad when we get our own place and I’m gonna be subjected to a lifetime of cat hair on furniture. There’s just not enough room right now for all the cats he plans to bring home.”
My smile starts to fall before I paste it back on. “Connor and I will be out as soon as we can; I promise. I know it’s not ideal, and—”
“Rosie, no. That’s not what I meant. You can stay as long as you need to.”
“I know you’re waiting for us to move out so you can move in. There’s not enough room for all of us; I get it.” I tuck Mittens back in his home, and he gives me those huge, sad eyes of his, paired with the tiniest meow , because he hates being alone in here. He’s a people person, although he seems to be very particular about who his people are. His favorite so far has been that tattooed man that came in here with his friend, and I really thought he’d be back to adopt him. I think Mittens and I are both upset that he hasn’t. “I was planning on moving out after grad next spring, but now, with losing the scholarship—”
“Rosie.” Marco grabs my hands, stopping my spiraling thoughts. “I know you think so, but you aren’t holding us back. There’s nowhere else Archie would rather be than with you and Connor right now. And I stay there most nights anyway. But we’re happy, okay? Really, we are. Plus, my mom isn’t ready to let me move out yet anyway.”
“You hate living with your mom.”
“Because she drives me up the fucking wall. But I’m her favorite child—naturally—so I persist.”
I drop my stare to my runners. “If I ever become a burden—”
“You are family, not a burden. I love you, Ro. You’re like my annoying little sister. I can’t get rid of you, but no part of me actually wants to.”
I give his dark hair a tug before turning back to the cat dens, checking on a litter of kittens and the stray mama who were brought in last week. “You’re way more annoying than me.”
“Watch your filthy mouth.”
“Can’t. I just let it run.” I press a kiss to a tiny, gray-striped kitten before tucking it back in its bed. “Archie should be out of surgery soon. Are you guys going out for dinner?”
“Nah. We’re gonna grab Connor and pick up some takeout.”
My head snaps up. “What?”
“Archie told me what Brandon said about you yesterday. We’re gonna pick up Connor on our way home so you don’t have to.”
“You’re going to say something to him.” If it’s not Marco, it’ll be Archie. Hell, it might be both of them.
Marco smirks. “What would we possibly say?”
“Marco.”
“I might drop that you got dicked so hard last night you’re limping today.”
“I am not limping!” I’m definitely fucking limping. My legs might’ve worked well enough today if we hadn’t used that last condom this morning. But instead Adam drew a total of four orgasms out of me while he was inside me—on my back, my legs over his shoulders, on my knees, and up against the wall—before he finally came. When I stood up to follow him to the shower five minutes later, my legs shook so hard my ass was a split second from hitting the floor when Adam caught my waist and scooped me against him.
I got dicked so hard I feel it in my brain.
“Rosie, you got dicked so hard you’re staring off into space while grinning .”
I snap my mouth shut. “I am not.”
“Hello ,” Marco breathes out, shoving me aside. He puts his sunglasses on just so he can shift them down his nose as he stares out the window. “Hottie alert. And he’s got flowers.”
I follow his stare, and when I spy the dark blue truck, the impossibly large man stepping down from it with a bouquet of peonies, my heart free-falls to my stomach. “Oh my God.”
I press myself to the window, watching as Adam pulls off his sunglasses and folds them into the collar of his T-shirt, spinning his keyring on his finger.
“Oh my God,” I murmur again, fogging the window up. I turn to Marco, folding my hands at my stomach. “How do I look? No, wait. Don’t answer that. It’s too late to change anything. Adam likes me the way I am.” I shove him aside, rushing past him. The door opens just as Marco crashes into me from behind, and I smile up at Adam as he halts, staring at the two of us staring up at him, breathless. “Adam. You’re here.” I raise my palms and gesture around me, in case he doesn’t know where here is. “In my work.”
He’s always waiting for me outside, the sight of his truck pulling up fifteen minutes before my shift ends making my heart flip-flop, or every Saturday morning when he and Bear join Piglet and me out front for our hike. Something about him being here, inside, it feels so personal.
I take a step toward him before stopping myself, unsure how to act. He’s just watching me, his eyes moving between me and Marco, who may or may not be hyperventilating beside me.
And then suddenly, Adam grins, crooking his finger at me. “Get over here, trouble, and gimme your mouth.”
I dash across the lobby to Adam, and he hooks one arm beneath my butt, hoisting me to him before he drops his mouth to mine.
“Couldn’t wait to see you tonight. Wanted to pop by and say hi.”
“Hiii.” Marco approaches slowly, a goofy smile on his face. He arcs his hand through the air. “I’m Marco, Rosie’s amazing, beautiful friend who she loves so much.”
Adam chuckles, setting me on my feet. “Yeah, that tracks with everything she’s told me about you.” He offers him his hand. “Hi, Marco. I’m Adam.”
“Mhmm.” His eyes move down Adam, then back up. “That you are, that you are. I’ve heard a lot about you, too, Adam, but not quite enough.”
“Maybe we could have dinner soon,” I suggest excitedly, looking to Adam. The sight of him, so imposing, so flawless, makes me nervous, and I find myself backtracking, twirling my hair around my finger. “Or whatever.”
His blue eyes move over me, and the corner of his mouth lifts as he pulls my finger free from my hair. “I’d love if we all had dinner, or whatever.” He holds out the bouquet of peonies to me, bright pinks, dusky yellows, and deep oranges, my favorite sunset. “These are for you.”
I lift the flowers to my nose to smell them but gasp when I see what’s waiting inside.
Tucked in the middle of the bouquet is a hot fudge sundae from Dairy Queen.
“Extra hot fudge,” Adam whispers against my temple with his arm around my waist.
It’s the silliest thing, something so small and sweet, and yet it’s bringing three little words to the tip of my tongue, ready to roll right off it. I want to say it. I never have, because I’ve never felt it. I thought I wouldn’t be sure I was in love, that I’d have to wonder, but I know now there is no wondering.
Love is, without a doubt, the most certain emotion I’ve ever felt. It’s steady and sure, constant, like the gentle ripple of the creek winding through the mountains, the quiet song from the birds in the treetops. I opened my eyes one morning and there it was, carved into the deepest parts of me, like it was always there.
Like Adam had always been a piece of me.
There’s a happiness radiating throughout me, a slight quiver in my hands as I stare at him, like my body is begging me to reach out, to take him into my arms, and God, I want to.
He sweeps his thumb across my lower lip. “Quit looking at me like that. It’s dangerous.”
“How am I looking at you?”
“Like you’d marry me right now if I promised to bring you flowers and ice cream sundaes every day for the rest of our lives.”
I completely fail at biting back my smile when I tell him, “I’d settle for weekly.”
His brows quirk, a playful challenge. “Don’t tempt me, trouble. I didn’t come prepared with a ring.”
“Wow. You two are adorable.” Marco gestures at us with circles of hands. “I almost feel like I’m interrupting a beautiful moment.”
Adam casts him an amused glance. “Almost, huh?”
“Oh, don’t mind me. Get your freak on. Ro’s already wrecked. Been limping around here all—”
“Marco !”
Adam laughs, winding an arm around my waist and tugging me into his chest when I try to decapitate my friend. “I gotta go. Don’t kill Marco before we can have dinner. But for the record, Rosie…” His lips dip to the shell of my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. “I like you a little bit wrecked.” With my chin between his fingers, he presses a lingering kiss to my lips. “See ya later, gorgeous.”
I stay rooted in place, watching Adam head to his truck, hitting me with a wink before he climbs in and drives away.
“If you’re not gonna eat that sundae—”
“Back off.” I tear my ice cream bouquet away from Marco, setting it on the reception desk while I dig out my sundae. There’s an obscene amount of hot fudge on this thing, layered on the bottom, top, and halfway. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.
“You have some explaining to do, Miss Rosie.”
My gaze lifts to Marco, my spoon pausing just before my mouth. “What?”
His smile is particularly huge as he watches me with his chin propped in his hands, elbows on the desk. “Don’t ‘what’ me. You know exactly what.”
“I do not.”
“Mhmm.” He drops his forearms to the desk, tapping his fingers. “So all this time you’ve just conveniently forgotten to mention that you’re dating Adam Lockwood?”
“What do you mean? I told you we were dating.”
“You told me you were dating a man named Adam. You did not tell me you were dating Adam. Motherfucking. Lockwood. ”
“I don’t get it,” I say slowly, lowering my spoon. “Do you know him?”
Marco frowns. “Do you not know what Adam does for a living?”
“He works…he works with professional athletes.” I don’t know why it’s a murmur, or why it sounds more like a question. I don’t know why my stomach knots either.
“Rosie, Adam Lockwood is a professional athlete. He’s the starter goalie for the Vancouver Vipers.”
“H…hockey?”
“One of the best and highest paid in the league.”
My head shakes, and the tremor in my hands returns. Adam wouldn’t lie to me about something so important. He just wouldn’t.
“He just re-signed with the Vipers for ten-point-five million a year. And that doesn’t include any sponsorship deals.” Marco pulls out his phone, typing. “Google says at the end of the last season, your man had a net worth of thirty-four million.”
“Thirty-four million?” I place my hand over my stomach. It’s lurching like my lunch might make a reappearance.
“I swear, Ro. Do you even know him? Here, look.” He flashes me a picture. “Here he is in one of his game-day suits. Look how well he wears a three-piece. Imagine him in that at your wedding?”
I can’t; all I can focus on is the pictures. So many of them, all Adam. I click on one, and the screen fills with a photo of Adam on the ice, looking utterly massive in a pair of skates and huge, clunky equipment, a mask that matches his green and blue jersey.
My stomach turns itself over as I pull up another photo. Adam with his lips pressed to the temple of the gorgeous redhead tucked into his side. There’s a caption included, one that makes me stop breathing.
Are they really done? Hockey’s golden boy Adam Lockwood and longtime girlfriend, Courtney McLean, end their seven-year relationship amid cheating rumors.
I swallow down the bile climbing my throat and, against my better judgment, pick a new photo. In this one, Adam doesn’t even appear to know his picture is being taken. He’s sitting in a restaurant, drinking wine with a pretty brunette. This caption?
Adam Lockwood, hockey’s most eligible bachelor and serial dater, not settling down any time soon!
My racing heart slows to a crawl before I swear it stops beating altogether, and my ice cream sundae slips from my grip, splattering at my feet.
I can’t be sure, but I think that’s where my heart winds up, too, after it shatters.