Sorry for lateness again, but there was a good reason this time! I had to work a little extra on a special project you will know all about by the end of the chapter. 😀
So in this chapter, we do a little more San Francisco-ing! It's hopefully highly entertaining, as you learn more about the Bankses, and for those of you who asked for more Travis, he's definitely a strong presence in this one! Gretchen is hiding a very dark secret that Lacey learns about here, you'll see (very briefly for now) how Adam's new regimen given by his doctor is working out, and lastly, you will get to see how Lacey navigates her feelings about the possible next big milestone in her and Adam's relationship.
I want to continue to thank Amelia and bobcatwriter for being such faithful readers, and always giving detailed feedback. These books have been a huge time/energy investment and labor of love for well over a year now, and it's always good to see your work not go to waste. If anything, I'm pretty much at least showing everybody what a huge TMD and Adam Banks fan I've been for years!
/*/*/
"'Well, that escalated quickly' is our family motto." – Unknown
"Phil, Honey, we're going to be late!" Yvette called back into the house, exasperated. The minivan cab driver looked on apathetically, no doubt because he was still getting paid.
Phil rushed out of the house, nearly running into her. "I had to finish talking to Marcus about the merger. I was afraid he was going to screw up the talk betw–"
"Don't tell us about it, we're on vacation. And you are too." Yvette gave his back a little shove. "I know you don't want to be late for the Napa Valley tour, it's your favorite part.
Adam glanced over to Lacey and rolled his eyes, emitting a quiet chuckle from her.
Gretchen, sitting in the front row of the minivan, was scowling out the window, either not a morning person or not a wine country person. Either way, after issuing a "Good morning" to the woman and receiving a cursory response, Lacey decided to steer clear. Travis evidently had, too, as he sat with his nose buried in Beyond Failure: Forensic Case Studies in Civil Engineering.
Adam had filled Lacey in on what little he knew about Gretchen when she asked him to tell her more about Travis's girlfriend that morning as they ate breakfast on their bed. Lacey learned that she and Travis met at work and had been dating for about a year. It sounded as though she, also, came from an affluent family, which caused Phil to condone the match while Yvette did not.
"I mean, you know Mom. She's nice to everybody, but she says she doesn't think Gretchen's the girl for Travis." Adam shrugged. "A mom thing, I guess."
Lacey had brought her own book, The Perks of Being a Wallflower, and read a good deal of the way to Napa Valley, largely to drown out the annoying music the driver played the entire time on the road. It was some form of jazz characterized by overkill on the clarinet, a sound which must have annoyed Phil also. She noticed how he kept rubbing his hand over his face, but otherwise continued to keep her nose buried in her book, despite wishing she'd brought earplugs, and had no idea just how carsick Adam was getting until, quite suddenly, he gagged. The next thing she knew, there was vomit everywhere–on her, on the seat in front of them, on the floor, and on his pants.
She turned and stared at him in disbelief as he gazed at the foul substance all around him and looked up at Lacey, absolutely horrified.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he kept repeating, red-faced.
"Ew!" Travis turned around. "What's your problem, man? That could have gotten in my hair!"
But before Adam could reply, he clapped his hand over his mouth to try to save another torrential outburst of sickness. He was unsuccessful, and now had puke on his hand, too.
"Son!" Yvette sighed, turning around to him, having looked more tense all morning than Lacey had ever seen the woman. "Why didn't you ask to stop if you were getting sick? I'm sorry," she called up to the cab driver who nearly ran off the road from staring in his rearview mirror at Adam. "We're going to have to stop somewhere. Preferably a clothing store, and somewhere very close by."
Adam was clearly devastated. He leaned his head against the window, still obviously not feeling well, but also embarrassed.
"It's okay," Lacey tossed her book to the side and rubbed his arm, trying to keep her own gag at bay for his sake. The backseat in which they were sitting was a disgusting mess.
"Good God Almi–"
"Travis, just stop," Yvette commanded her complaining eldest as the cab driver made a turn all too quickly into the parking lot of a Walmart.
The Bankses at Walmart. What would this be like?
"Okay. Let's all get out," Yvette took control of the situation when the van slid into a parking space. Phil was turning green. "Lacey, if you'll come with me, we can find you and Adam new pants. Adam, Honey, you're going to need to clean this up. Phil, can you grab some carpet cleaner and rags? And Sir, again, I'm so sorry," she addressed the cab driver once more, who had already gotten out and was staring helplessly at the length of the mini-van. "We'll make sure to tip you a gracious tip for this. I hope it didn't ruin your vehicle."
The driver, at a loss for words, just nodded.
Phil, once out, turned to Adam to launch his own tirade. "If you'd just asked to stop, we wouldn't be in this mess now. We're going to be late for the tour, and I don't know if I can ride the rest of the way in a van that smells like that."
But Lacey just quietly helped Adam out of the car and began fanning him with her damaged book, trying to generate some air to help with his nausea. "Don't worry about it. Let's go get you to the bathroom. I'll get some dramamine and Sprite." She then looked at the cab driver who had poked his head in the van to survey the damage. "He's going to need to sit up front, I think, for the rest of the trip."
"I don't know, Ma'am," the driver addressed her respectfully, which felt strange. "If he gets sick again, it'll cause more damage to my upholstery, and my dash is–""
"I'm sorry," Lacey continued, boldness edging her voice. "He needs to be up there. I'm sure if he's in the front, this won't happen again."
Which she wasn't exactly sure of, but kudos to wishful thinking. The fact was, Lacey was pretty sure car sickness wasn't the only culprit of Adam's nausea. All along the dresser of their room was lined a motherlode of vitamins and supplements the new doctor he was seeing had prescribed.
"They're supposed to help kill the inflammation," Adam had informed her. "It might take a few weeks, but he swears that in the end this whole thing might be contained. It could all be bunk, but I mean, what have I got to lose?"
Just before they left, Adam had downed a cocktail of the pills that filled his entire hand. Judging how sick Lacey usually felt when she took a multivitamin in the morning, she could only imagine that this couldn't be easy on his stomach.
She and Yvette purchased the best jeans they could find, one pair for Adam and a pair for her, which turned out to be too long. And they were far too flared for Lacey's usual taste, but she would make do. She set Adam's pants in a bag outside the mens' restroom door along with some soap, mouthwash and a toothbrush. If Lacey knew anything about Adam, it was that he was meticulous about being clean. And besides–if he didn't clean out his mouth, there would definitely be no more kissing today as far as she was concerned.
After the three of them returned to the van it took nearly an hour to clean, Lacey helping Adam with the job despite her weak stomach, they all piled in again. Everyone was silent with annoyance, even though Yvette reached back at one point and patted Adam on the shoulder. It frankly irritated Lacey that everyone else was being so disagreeable. Gretchen kept sighing noisily as if she'd just endured the biggest inconvenience of her life, and Travis remarked, "I still smell it. Can we roll down the windows?"
"Really? Because I don't smell a thing back here," Lacey called up, forcing herself to keep a light tone while defending Adam, hoping to drain the humiliation out of the incident for him. As it were, he sat hunkered down in the passenger seat the rest of the way to Napa Valley.
What a fantastic start to the day.
Finally the family reached its destination and sat waiting, quietly, for the next tour of the vineyards, to be taken on a double-decker bus. This was an experience Lacey wasn't sure would sit well for Adam's stomach, but he did surprisingly well, likely due to the slow driving and the fact that they sat just behind the driver seat. Lacey was sorry to miss sitting on the second level, but oh well–they had a week here, and the opportunity would likely come again.
"I'm so sorry," Adam offered again, showing how much the matter still weighed on his mind. "I mean, about your pants and stuff. I would have made the guy stop, but I just kept thinking I could handle it. Until I couldn't. But thanks for being so great about it. Was your book able to be saved?"
Lacey had to chuckle. "Not really, but it's okay. It was a cheap paperback. I just threw it away." She rubbed his back briefly, handing over the Sprite she'd bought him. "Are you feeling better yet?"
"Yeah," he replied, swigging the drink.
As for the tour of wine country, she could tell this was a Phil Banks thing if ever there was one. The tourist talked, in a voice bereft of expression, and even though the rolling hills and dots of purple on the grape vines was admittedly a pretty sight, Lacey was quickly bored.
The bus was just about to stop at the first winery along the way when Travis leaned up, lightly bumping Adam on the back of the head. "How're your Walmart pants doing for ya?"
Adam turned quickly to him after flashing Lacey a look, probably conscious of the fact that over half of what Lacey owned came from the store. "They're fine, Travis. Nothing wrong with Walmart."
But Gretchen let out a bold giggle.
That was it. Lacey turned around, eyeing not just Travis, but Gretchen too. "Can you cut him a break? He already feels bad about the whole thing, and you're making it worse. Please just stop."
As soon as the words left her lips, Lacey cringed. One didn't talk to her boyfriend's older brother like that on their first trip together. But surprisingly, Travis just shook his head, standing up to file out of the bus. Lacey knew Travis cared about Adam, could see it in little gestures. But he could also antagonize him like no one else.
The trip took them to around five different wineries over the course of a few hours, and as the tour went on, Lacey actually began to enjoy the trip. Yvette and Travis even managed to sneak occasional wine samples to her and Adam. The problem was, however, Travis himself was knocking back quite a few samples at each stop. He wanted to try everything everywhere, and he did. Lacey didn't think much of it until she was taking her sample cup to the aged barrel trash can in the corner and passed by him and Gretchen having a tiff.
"No more. Not one more, do you hear me?" Gretchen hissed.
"Why do I always have to listen to you?" Travis demanded, his voice louder than necessary. "Ever since we got here, all you do is bitch about what I do or don't do. I'm over it. And I'll get as many samples as I want."
Lacey grimaced, hurriedly finishing her business and heading back over to Adam, even though she could hear Gretchen's voice growing louder in her rebuttal.
Phil was just about to take another sip of an aged strawberry merlot when he apparently heard the altercation and stopped, looking around until his eyes landed on Travis and Gretchen. "Okay. Yvette? This is exactly why we can't do anything all together. Travis…" He marched toward the fighting couple a few yards away.
Yvette was swirling a Pinot Gris under her nose, but turned around abruptly upon hearing Phil's comment. "Oh no."
Adam looked away, ignoring the entire thing.
"Dad, why are you taking up for her?! Why do you always take up for everybody else?"
"Alright Son, out. We're going outside. Now."
Phil took Travis's arm, discreetly hauling him out the door of the wine tasting hut as Gretchen called out behind them, "It's okay, I'm booking my flight back tomorrow. Do you hear me? First thing in the morning!"
Adam rolled his eyes as he nursed his cup of water, afraid to go too heavy on the samples with his ailing stomach. "This is nothing new, trust me."
But Lacey kept watching Gretchen, who was rubbing her forehead, head down as her blunt-edged, stylish bob created a black curtain around her face. She was clearly mortified.
Lacey wandered over to the woman, stopping a couple feet away and tentatively inquiring, "Are you okay…?"
"No," Gretchen fished for Kleenexes in her Fendi bag. "He's so obnoxious. And impulsive. And dumb. I don't have any idea why I'm with him, you know?" With that, she pulled out a pack of Marlboro Lites and an engraved Bic lighter. "You're lucky. You have the good one. I mean, at least the kid has a touch of class. Travis is just a stupid, mean, dim-witted, loud-mouth asshole. Excuse me while I go smoke."
Gretchen pushed past her and headed outside in a decidedly different direction from where, as Lacey could see out the window, Phil and Travis were having it out.
Just then the tour bus announced its impending departure, and Yvette began to shoo her and Adam out the door. "It'll be okay," she reassured them. "Travis has these little moments sometimes when he drinks too much. It'll blow over."
As soon as Yvette herded them out, she pointed toward the bus and raised her voice enough to be heard by Phil and Travis, who now had somehow gotten onto the topic of Travis's old shoddy college dorm and why Adam could have a private room and he hadn't had that privilege.
"You two. In the bus. Now."
Yvette didn't raise her voice often. But when she did, she possessed the ability to get immediate results. Phil and Travis looked over at her at once, staring blankly before obeying and getting in line for the bus. Yvette then went to find Gretchen.
When the two women finally boarded during the final moments left, Gretchen seemed to be in a calmer state of mind, if still dabbing at remaining tears. She slid into the seat beside Travis, who was–what?-wiping tears away himself.
Good grief.
"Welcome to the three ring circus," Adam gave her a rueful smirk. "See how my family isn't perfect either?"
It was well after five o'clock when the tour was finally over and they all loaded into another minivan cab–a fresh, clean one this time–and prepared to drive back to San Francisco proper to go to the first restaurant Travis had picked out for them, Tonga Room.
"This is supposed to be the coolest thing ever," Travis grinned, finally coming down off of his buzz.
And cool it was. The Polynesian food was served in large dishes on the table for them to all share, like dining at home. Within minutes, Lacey was hooked on the Hawaiian Chicken with coconut rice. The biggest surprise came, however, when about thirty minutes into the meal, the entire dining room was overtaken by sounds of thunder and flashes of faux lightning. Phil and Adam both ducked like they were being shot at.
"They have hurricanes every few minutes! Isn't that cool?" Travis explained over the racket.
Lacey had to admit the idea was clever, and she and Yvette quite enjoyed the excitement that ensued when the thunder and lightning launched again about forty minutes later. Gretchen, however, stiffly ordered a second drink.
The day may have been fraught with drama of various kinds, but the best part of it came after dinner: the San Francisco Sunset Cruise.
Lacey had never been on a boat of any kind before, and she was completely enthralled as she stood at the railing and watched as the entire bay was bathed in the reflection of the pink and gold sunset.
"Do you get seasick too?" Lacey reached over and placed her hand over Adam's as he stood beside her.
"No," he chortled. "It's really odd. I don't get seasick or airsick. It's just long distances in the backseat that get to me. By the way, do I smell…?"
"You do. Like Irish Spring." She added the last part after a short hesitation, grinning when his eyes widened for a moment.
"Oh. Good," he let out a deep breath of relief.
She laughed, and the two of them stood silently, watching as the sun went down while sipping on Cokes in wine glasses with blue paper straws. It was all completely perfect. Perfect enough to undo the rest of the crazy day.
/*/*/
The next day, all of them loaded up for a trip to Yosemite Park to do some hiking. Lacey was proud of the fact that her endurance had improved greatly since training with Adam, and she didn't get nearly as exhausted climbing inclines. But it was clear, she was no outdoor girl. She hated the sweat, hated the bugs, and hated the branches and tree roots she nearly tripped over more than once.
Adam apparently liked the outdoors as much as the rest of the family (minus Phil), but though he started out strong, his joints began to give him trouble about halfway through, and by the end of the trail, they were so inflamed they were practically killing him. Lacey felt bad that this was the second day in a row he'd faced a physical trial of some kind. But, never a whiner, he persisted.
Which wasn't something Lacey or Phil did.
By the third trail, Travis and Gretchen were happily gearing up to get started on a three mile hike, and stood waiting on the rest of the family. Yvette joined them after needing a few minutes of rest–"Honey, I'm old," she'd remarked bluntly when Travis tried to rush her–and Adam, in spite of the pain, wanted to try to do at least a little of the trail. That left Lacey and Phil behind.
The two of them stood for a few minutes watching the others, trying to figure out what to do.
"Well, the benches are back that way," Phil lifted his walking stick to point.
"Really? You seem so sure. All this looks the same to me."
Phil chuckled. "Boy Scout for life I guess. So much camping fine-tuned my sense of direction."
Lacey followed behind him, learning that, sure enough, he was right about where the benches were.
"Have a seat," Phil gestured to an empty bench. She sat down, and he occupied another one a few feet away.
The pair of them sat in silence for a while, Lacey trying to remind herself there was no need to be nervous around Adam's dad. Finally, she spoke. "He's really hurting today. I hope the stuff this doctor has told him to do will work."
Phil was quiet for an extra moment before replying, "If it doesn't, we'll try the next thing. I have an entire list of doctors and methods that are highly recommended for treating this. Adam's goal is to play hockey, and I mean to make that happen for him by any means possible."
While struck with admiration for a dad who was this devoted to his son's success, Lacey mildly wondered if Phil's pushiness would only put more pressure on Adam.
It wasn't much longer before Adam returned, limping. Clearly he was finished hiking, probably for the rest of the trip. After a little while, the rest of the gang returned just in time for everyone to be hungry. Travis had once again scoped out a place for them to eat ahead of time using his travel guides, and off they went to Cowboys & Indians, an outdoor restaurant where dining parties sat around fire pits on little woven rugs, ordering dishes that had to be eaten with fingers only. This was yet another thing Phil was clearly not very excited about.
"Travis, you could at least have picked one normal dining experience. Is it all going to be like this? If so, I might stay back at the house and make myself a ham sandwich."
"Oh, you will not," Yvette chided. "This is fun, Phil, come on. Travis, Honey, you've done a great job."
But the damage had been done, and Travis narrowed his eyes at his dad. This time, though, he didn't say anything and Lacey was grateful another gale force Phil/Travis fight did not take place.
That night, Adam decided to forego board games in the living room in favor of watching West Side Story upstairs in the bedroom. Lacey chose to do games, but after everyone discovered they were too tired to play Pictionary–the only game they remembered to bring–everyone drifted off in their separate directions and Lacey joined Adam in front of the TV. He smiled when she came in and patted the bed next to him, pausing the DVD player. "They have a whole collection of old movies here, you know? Anyway, so what's happening is…" Thus he went on to explain the storyline of the film to her. It seemed simple enough, a sort of Romeo & Juliet story where the sister of one gang member fell in love with a member of the rival gang. But the romance was doomed, and Lacey watched with her eyes peeled as in the end, Maria was left clutching Tony's body, which bore a bullet. She tearfully sang to him one of their songs:
There's a place for us,
A time and place for us.
Hold my hand and we're halfway there.
Hold my hand and I'll take you there
Somehow,
Some day,
Somewhere!
"Jeez, Adam!" Lacey wiped tears. "Why do you watch these things?"
"Because they're art!" He defended, turning to her. "They rely on good dialogue and narrative to push the story forward. Not like the dumb crap they make nowadays."
"Hey," she nudged him. "I meant to ask, why haven't you been taking pictures?"
"Because yesterday I left my camera back here," he grumbled. "And today, everybody kept screaming for me to stop slowing them down on the hike. So guess I'll try again tomorrow."
"Aww," she rested her head on his shoulder for a second until she felt him flinch. "Oh, sorry. Want me to rub in some IcyHot?"
"That would be really great."
So Lacey took the tube in her hand as Adam removed his shirt and lay facedown,, drawing her eyes to his muscular arms and shoulders. They were all so perfect, all in good proportion. Not the kind of muscularity that sported big sinews, which she hated. But the kind of muscularity that spoke of strength and discipline.
"You can go ahead," he turned his head slightly and repeated.
"Yeah. Um, sorry." Lacey rubbed the thick, sinus-cinging cream onto Adam's arms and shoulders first, then was just about to slather it on his neck and upper back when she set the tube down and leaned in to softly kiss the area beneath his neck and between his shoulder blades. She felt the tension melt from his body, and wondered if her kiss helped more than the IcyHot did. How she wanted to linger there, but she pushed herself back into action and finished applying the pain cream. Afterward, Adam pulled back on his thin white cotton shirt.
"Thanks," he looked over his shoulder and smiled. It was a smile that hatched a full kaleidoscope of butterflies in Lacey's stomach.
"Um…what are some other classic movies you think I'd like?" She was somehow desperate to change the subject.
Adam didn't hesitate. "Well, I don't like Westerns but for one ,'The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance. You'd like it, it's got kind of a cool twist. And let's see. Citizen Kane...oh and definitely Roman Holiday. Make a list, go ahead."
Lacey laughed. "Now? I don't have paper."
"Okay, well we'll do it tomorrow." Adam rolled over and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek before turning his back to her to go to sleep. His limited affection when they were alone since they came here left her feeling a little dissatisfied…but something told her he was trying to maintain control of his hormones while they were sleeping together. And truthfully, she found his decorum to be more than a little sexy. It made her all the more eager to break down those carefully constructed walls very soon.
Lacey leaned over to kiss Adam's cheek in return, but lingered, kissing his shoulder next, then down his arm a couple of times before rolling back over to her side of the bed. But she was sure that, just before she stopped showering kisses, she heard his breath quicken.
/*/*/
"It'll be a lot of fun, Gretchen. Are you sure you don't want to go?"
Yvette was pouring orange juice for both her and Phil in champagne flutes as Travis stood beside her, buttering the waffles.
Gretchen reached up to tuck a sleek strand of hair behind her ear. "Thank you, but no. I'm not very into art."
Lacey saw Yvette open her mouth to say something else, but give up and turn to Travis. "Too much butter, Travis. Anyway, if you change your mind, just let us know." She smiled back at the young woman sitting across from her at the bar.
Lacey herself felt pretty excited. She and Yvette were going shopping and to visit art galleries throughout the downtown area of Haight-Ashbury. It was originally meant to be kind of a girls' day, but Gretchen wasn't having it. She guessed Travis's girlfriend would be hanging out with the guys, who were supposed to be off having fun doing something of their own until they were all to rendezvous later at the appointed restaurant for dinner.
Adam, who seemed to feel much better upon waking, was off on his daily run and bemoaning the fact that he couldn't lift while he was here, as he could hardly bring his weights on the plane. Most of all, he missed hockey. Adam regularly spent a fair amount of time on the ice, even in the off season, but he hadn't had as much of a chance to do that this summer. Lacey felt this was a good break for him, but he was very concerned about playing well enough to fit in with the Violets at NYU.
"I don't know, I mean…I just miss ice. I need ice," he grumbled to her that very morning when she'd brought him a surprise cup of hot Irish Breakfast tea, his favorite.
"You need a break from ice." She pushed his hair back, kissing his forehead. But he just shook his head like she didn't understand.
And she supposed she didn't.
"Alright, here it is," Yvette announced cheerfully. "Courtesy of Travis the Great and me. But mostly Travis the Great. Bet you didn't know he was such a good cook until this trip, did you Lacey?" Yvette took a plate from the stack.
"I didn't." She smiled. "What do you usually cook?"
"Well I mostly bake. I just never can do that at home, because Mom bakes too, and there's only room for one of us in front of the oven, huh Mom?" He nudged Yvette playfully. Phil came in from the much quieter breakfast nook where he had been reading his paper and took a plate next. Lacey stood up next, but waited for Gretchen to go. However, the woman didn't move a muscle, instead turning her attention to a magazine that had been sitting on the coffee table earlier.
What's with her?
Not that Gretchen was very friendly in the first place, but today she was downright rude. Shrugging to herself, Lacey went ahead and put two waffles and some corned beef hash on her plate before coming back over and setting it down before going back to pour milk.
"You kids take the dining room if you want. I'm going to go eat in the breakfast nook with Honey," Yvette carried her plate out next to Phil, then called out a moment later, "You guys are all grown up! I miss the groans!"
"We're groaning," Travis answered. "We're just not as loud with it now." He carried a plate over to Gretchen then, but she looked up at him, evidently conveying an expression Lacey couldn't see.
"Eat," Travis spoke gently, setting the plate in front of her. "It's not much, I only put like two tablespoons of hash. And look, you like blueberries–"
But before he could finish his sentence, Gretchen pushed her chair back in a huff and left the room almost before Lacey had time to blink.
Realizing she was staring, Lacey turned back to her food. She heard Travis's exasperated sigh as he went over to sit the plate back on the counter, piling up his own. He quietly came over and sat across from her, studying his food morosely before picking up his fork.
The two of them ate in awkward silence for a few minutes. Adam could come back from his run any time now if he wanted to…
"So, you like San Francisco so far?" Travis finally asked after taking a loud gulp of his coffee.
"I do. It's a lot different from home."
"Yeah," he answered simply.
Another minute or two went by, and Lacey could tell Travis was definitely troubled by something. She took another bite of her waffle, then set her fork down. "Travis, what's wrong? You're not your usual chipper self."
The guy took a deep breath, stopping eating but still looking down at his food as though he couldn't decide what to say. Finally, he looked up. "You know, you and Adam are still in that glowing phase. Where you can't find anything wrong with each other, and every day is just another day to stare into each other's eyes and snog each other when no one's looking and all the rest of it. Just wait until real problems hit."
Lacey felt her ears grow warm. "Okay, consider us warned," she replied to Travis's asshole remark. Just when she thought she liked this guy a little bit, he went and said something totally insensitive like this. Every time. "There's nothing wrong with being in love."
"Not until you realize you might be the only one," he muttered as he stabbed his fork bitterly at a piece of potato. "Or until you know they need help, but they won't accept it. From you or anyone else."
For a moment this rang a bell with her as she thought of the fight she and Adam nearly got into about hockey a few months ago. But she turned her attention back to Travis. "Maybe she's just going through something right now and needs some space."
Travis snorted bitterly. "Fine time to want that, on a family trip to San Francisco. I mean, and when I tried to come up with restaurants, I kept her food preferences in mind and everything. Whatever I had to do to get her to eat."
Lacey wrinkled her forehead. "What do you mean?"
"Surely you've noticed it, right? She eats almost nothing when we go out. And when she does, she goes straight to the bathroom and…"
Travis trailed off, shaking his head and rubbing over his face. It was then that Lacey realized how tired he had seemed the entire trip, and recalled how drunk he had gotten at the winery a couple days ago.
"She…she's not eating?" Lacey suddenly felt guilty for the way she and Adam had been so lost in one another during their days in San Francisco so far that she hadn't even noticed something was wrong with Gretchen.
"Anorexia. And sometimes bulimia. They kind of switch back and forth. When I met her she told me about it being something she struggled with in high school and college, but that now she's recovered. Yeah, that would be bullshit."
Lacey set her fork down and pushed her plate away, resting her chin in her hand to listen to Travis.
"And, I don't know. I mean I've done everything. Cooked whatever I thought she might want, encouraged her to go to therapy, stuck close to her after meals so she won't have a chance to go to the bathroom…" he shrugged. "I don't think Mom even understands. I mean, she tries, but then she just sums it up afterward by saying you can lead a horse to water, but can't make it drink. And I know that, but I feel like if nobody helps her, she'll just waste away."
"You must love her to do all that you're doing," Lacey spoke carefully, hoping to encourage him. "And, you know, love is stronger than anything else in the world. It'll lead her back to wellness. I just know it will."
Travis gave a short chuckle, then straightened up his face. "Lacey…I like you. I think you've been great for my brother. Seriously. But you're both kidding yourselves if you think that just loving a person can heal them. You know, most of the time all relationships do is magnify the problems each one of you has. Then you either sit on your dissatisfaction, or you explode and storm out. But hey, what can I expect? You guys are fresh out of high school. Well, get ready for the real world, because it's coming for you like a three hundred pound quarterback."
Lacey felt irritation rise up within her again, followed by her good old pal anxiety. But she swallowed it all down for now. Travis was just angry. She shouldn't take it personally. "Let's talk about you, not me. Travis, I know you obviously can't be everything for her. I just meant th–"
"Will you talk to her?" Travis looked at her square-on suddenly. "Please? Just maybe try to be her friend. I'm not kidding myself, I know she's not easy to like for most people. But I wish I could really help everybody see who she is underneath all this, the person I fell for."
"Who did you fall for?" Lacey smiled.
"God, she's brilliant. I mean when I saw her at that joint business meeting with Tervin & Hathcock, I knew the minute she rolled out her new idea for how to better the stoplight system in west Chicago that she was a fierce woman. Then we went to dinner and I saw her sense of humor, heard how she grew her hair out regularly and then chopped it off to send to Locks of Love. At that point, she had this cute little pixie cut. But right now, it's like all that's gone." Travis lowered his voice. "Anyway, you're a nice girl, and a little closer to our age than Mom. I think Mom's mainly just worried about me anyhow. She doesn't care so much for Gretchen, even though she doesn't act like that around her thank God. But Gretchen at least hasn't said anything bad about you, I mean, there's a shoe in for you already. She's critical as hell."
Lacey had absolutely no faith that Gretchen would even give her the time of day. Just because she hadn't been cut down by the woman to Travis didn't really mean anything. But she found herself nodding. "Yeah, Travis, I'll…I'll try. I promise."
Travis smiled gratefully just as Adam came through the door, sweaty and disheveled. "It's hotter than I thought it would be out there."
"And here we have the athlete," Travis announced at his brother's entrance. "Go grab some hash, Mom made it."
"Thanks for the permission," Adam chortled, grabbing a plate. "And blueberries?"
"In the fridge."
Hearing the brothers banter made Lacey chuckle before suddenly she was struck by longing. "Oh! I haven't called my sisters yet." She pushed her chair back, then hesitated, remembering how expensive the call would be. "Shall I wait until tonight?"
"Might want to," Adam answered, coming over with his plate. "I mean, I think the Hartzlers just pay the bill and don't worry about it, but…"
"Right."
Lacey considered going to check on Gretchen before she went back to her room to get dressed, but she decided against it. Gretchen likely needed time to cool off after her run-in with Travis. And besides, she needed to hurry. She didn't want to keep Yvette waiting.
The pair of them left a little before ten, exhorting the guys to take advantage of the beautiful, low-key day. "You can play golf," Yvette suggested to Phil, who looked over at the boys eagerly. But Travis and Adam wore the same disinterested expression.
"Might just go by myself then," Phil grumbled.
"Well. You'll figure it out." Yvette kissed his cheek. "Alright, our cab's here. Have fun!"
Lacey followed Yvette out, admiring, as usual, the woman's easy breezy personality. She probably hadn't struggled with anxiety a day in her life.
The day was perfect. Lacey and Yvette interspersed looking through boutiques with browsing art galleries. Lacey was surprised to learn that a lot of these artists were people Yvette actually knew.
"Oh, I'm part of an art association, and we have painting retreats sometimes," Yvette explained, then said to the artist she was talking to, "This is my friend Lacey. I have been teaching her how to paint, and I must say, she has promise!"
Lacey flushed with pleasure that Yvette considered her a friend and hadn't just introduced her as Adam's girlfriend. "I do enjoy it," Lacey smiled. "Nice to meet you."
"Next, we're whipping out the old palette knife," Yvette raised her eyebrows at the woman who had introduced herself as Barb–older, maybe in her sixties, with beautiful, spiral gray curls she kept out of her face with a bandana.
"Oh, aren't you lucky," Barb laughed. "Those are great to add texture for impressionistic textures. Is that what Yvette is training you in? Impressionism?"
It took a minute for Lacey to know how to respond. Was that what they were working toward? She wasn't entirely sure.
"I'm actually trying to just teach her the basics and let her find her own style." Yvette shifted the big painting she was holding from one hip to the other. She had found a gorgeous piece of a rooster painted in an assortment of colors. "This one is going in my kitchen."
"Great place for it."
After making arrangements to pick up the painting on their way back through town, she and Yvette then went into a couple of boutiques with prices that even put Zerden's to shame.
"I think we need to drop Adam some hints, don't you?" Yvette winked. "This necklace? It matches your spoon ring perfectly."
Lacey was initially afraid the woman might try to buy her something. It's not that she didn't love gifts, but she was feeling truly awful that people were spending money on her. She attributed a lot of her discomfort to her mother's sense of pride, which she'd instilled in Lacey.
"Oh, you know what?" Lacey pulled out her wallet. "I might just get it. I've been putting a lot more hours in at Cat's Cradle this summer. I think I can swing it."
It was a hefty amount to spend on a necklace, but Lacey reasoned she needed something to take back with her to remind her of the trip.
About midday, she and Yvette went for lunch and coffee at a little spot in the middle of the main strip called Tolliver's. While there, they chatted more and Lacey found out some things she hadn't yet known about Yvette. The woman had grown up on the outskirts of New York City, daughter of an advertising magnate on Madison Avenue, a "mad man" as they were called. She'd always wanted to try her hand at art, and had worked on a few amateur pieces before she met a friend who had mentored her and helped her hone her skill.
"Then I was presented at the debutante ball," Yvette recounted, speaking the words as easily as if she had been talking about going to the grocery store for milk. "And off I went to Boston School of Business. That's where I met Phil!"
"So you have a business degree?" Lacey asked, surprised.
"That I do," Yvette nodded after taking a sip of her cappuccino. "But it wasn't me. It was more something I did in the name of feminism. That was a big social issue during the late sixties, and I wanted to be a part of proving that women can have their own career ambitions. But I've only ever really wanted to create art." The corners of her eyes crinkled. "So Adam told me you're interested in social work?"
They finished the rest of their time in the cafe with Lacey discussing the pros and cons she had come up with regarding a social work career. Yvette didn't try to give unsolicited advice, instead opting to just listen and encourage Lacey to follow what her heart was telling her to do.
The two of them shopped around a little more afterward, at one point going into a larger boutique offering, among other things, lingerie. Lacey waited until Yvette was chatting up the store owner to wander over and run her finger along the lace pieces, thinking how nice it would be to purchase one and surprise Adam with it later.
And why couldn't she?
Trying to be quick, but also wanting to make a perfect choice, Lacey spotted a tasteful matching bra and panty set of white chiffon that jumped right out at her. She fingered the edging on the panties before glancing back. Yvette had finished talking to the store owner and was busying herself studying a rack of overalls in the corner.
Something about what Lacey was about to do felt deliciously dangerous–buying lingerie to wear for her boyfriend while his mom lingered on the fringes. Not that Yvette would probably have any qualms. It was just the awkwardness of it all if she found out. But thankfully, sensing her apprehension even if not understanding why, the shop owner rang her up and quickly wrapped the purchase in the prettiest pink tissue paper with flecks of silver in it and placed it carefully in a pretty paper bag. That's something Lacey loved about boutique shopping–the way the shop workers wrapped everything and put it all in beautiful bags. She'd never shopped at such places before. But the prices, and the fact that she'd just dropped about as much as she drew in one paycheck on an underwear set and a necklace, were rough enough to keep her away. This was definitely going to be a one-time thing.
Adam had better enjoy it.
Her thoughts about what that night might be like were causing heat to creep into Lacey's face as she stood waiting for Yvette to finish buying about three pairs of overalls. "This is amazing!" The woman gushed as she joined Lacey a moment later, carrying a much bigger version of Lacey's own bag. "I can paint on these and customize them to wear to my art shows. See? This one's black…"
Thankfully Yvette was so jazzed about her overall purchase that she either didn't notice or didn't bother asking Lacey what was in her bag. It could even be that Adam's mom had been well aware of what Lacey was buying, in that uncanny way moms had of knowing things, and didn't want to embarrass her. Either way, Lacey was glad the subject hadn't been brought up.
In the taxi as they made their way to the restaurant to meet up with everyone else, Lacey vocalized a question she'd been wanting to ask for a couple of months now, but was always afraid to.
"Can I maybe go with you to one of your art shows one day?" She inquired of Yvette.
"Absolutely you can. I actually want you to see the way they operate, and meet some of the other artists. An artist must be well connected," Yvette wisely informed her.
Lacey couldn't contain the grin that spread across her face. "You think of me as an artist? Wow. After all the mistakes I've made."
"Being an artist relies on far more than just talent and perfection, Love. It also requires discipline. And you have proven to have it. Just look how far you've come in a few short months!"
Lacey bit her lip. "I have a surprise for you," she blurted out. "It's actually Adam's birthday present. But I think you'll appreciate it, too."
"Oh?" Yvette raised her eyebrows.
"Yeah. It's…well, it's a painting." She chuckled. "I couldn't keep it a secret any longer. But I'm waiting to unveil it to you when I unveil it to Adam, and you can both see it at once."
"Lacey! You worked on your own painting?" Yvette beamed.
"I did," she answered shyly. "It's not all that great, but what I'm hoping is that it'll mean something to Adam."
"It will," Yvette answered confidently. "He's sentimental, you know. Whether he would ever admit it or not."
Lacey took a deep breath. "I hope so. Guess we'll find out tomorrow night. What's the plan again?"
"Well, we're going to take him to Baker Beach first. You've been to the beach before, right?"
"No, I haven't," Lacey's heart pounded in her chest with anticipation. She was armed with the swimsuit Stuart had taken her to get the night before they had left, and had been so hoping they might have time to go see the ocean. But she wasn't sure that that was part of the agenda, and she didn't want to push Adam's family off the schedule they had so meticulously curated.
"Oh you'll both have fun then! Anyway, we thought about spending most of the day there, then taking him to a restaurant that shows classic films. You know how he loves those. After that, it's back to the house for cake and presents."
"Where are you getting the cake from?" Lacey inquired curiously. She figured Yvette would probably name off a high end bakery.
"You and I are making one tonight when we get home."
Lacey blinked. "...I'm sorry?"
"Yes, you and I are baking a cake from scratch. You've done that before, at least, right?"
She blushed, embarrassed. "I…I haven't. My mom always buys ours from the grocery store."
Crap. Why did she have to say that? She was continually showing her basic, unremarkable roots to Yvette. And even though Lacey didn't sense that the woman judged her, she still wondered how often Yvette had the thought that another girl might be far more suited to her son.
"Now," Yvette added, seriously. "There's my recipe, and there's Travis's recipe. I'd much rather use mine, but Travis insists we use his, because he swears it's better. Whatever, but that means he might be joining us at times. That okay with you? I know Travis can often be a little…much."
Lacey chuckled. "It's okay. Really. Travis is interesting, and pretty fun." She realized suddenly how much she meant that.
For the rest of the drive, Lacey's mind wandered and she found herself thinking about the other gift she might be giving Adam for his birthday: the thing they'd put off as long as possible to ensure they were both ready for it.
But she was ready. And she thought he was too, from the way she caught him looking at her when he thought she didn't notice. They were in love, and they'd tried not to rush things. But waking up each morning as they had the past few days, tangled up in one another despite having fallen asleep in two different locations on the bed, was enough to prove to Lacey that their bodies desperately craved the ultimate physical intimacy. She had been so reticent to go with Max to the Wisteria Inn under the most perfect of circumstances on Homecoming night. But she was ready to give herself to Adam now, hands down. Thinking of what it would be like, how he would touch her, how his warm skin would feel against her hands, all were thoughts that gave rise to a blush.
Tomorrow night, this was happening. She would be his and he would be hers, in every way, at last.
/*/*/
"Ave ye been t'the bridge yet?"
"What?"
"I say, 'ave ye been t'the bridge yet? Th' Golden Gate Bridge?"
"Oh! Not yet, but we're going to," Lacey practically shouted back to him on Adam's cell phone. Stuart's Scottish brogue could be difficult to understand when he was right in front of her. On a long-distance phone call from a cell phone, it was nearly impossible.
Adam pulled back a little from where he was sitting beside her on the bed, indicating how loud she was. She lowered her voice a little. "But we've seen so many other things, and tomorrow we're going to the beach!"
Halen squealed from the other receiver. Everyone had taken turns talking to her: first her mom and Ariel, then Halen and Stuart, one person per turn using the phone upstairs in her room while the other one used the phone in the kitchen. It was a chaotic system, but this way she was able to talk to everybody in half the time.
"I'm bringing you guys back souvenirs, I promise!" She made a doomed face to Adam, realizing she hadn't bought the first one yet, and her little sisters weren't at an easy to please age anymore. Adam just smiled and nodded reassuringly. He might have ideas.
"Well we sure do miss ye, Lass. Bu' we're 'oldin'. Yer mum 'as a smoke oot the window every night, pinin' after ye."
"It's true!" Halen broke in. "But she'd never tell you."
Then for the next three or four minutes, Halen told Lacey about everyone in the neighborhood including a boy she liked who lived two doors down. She chronicled who was home right now and who was on vacation. This wasn't knowledge Halen had ever been overly invested in before, but Lacey figured she was just finding something to talk about so she wouldn't have to hang up just yet.
To fight boredom, she turned to pick on Adam, reaching a finger up to tap the end of his turned up nose. It was something he hated, and he wrinkled his nose, ducking. But she was persistent, continuing to reach for him as he scooted away from her until the phone popped off the short charger cord.
"Oh!" She looked at the phone screen. "Hello? Are you still there?"
"Still 'ere," Stuart replied, sounding bored himself. "Wha' 'appened?"
"The cell phone came off the charging cord. It feels strange to be talking on something with a battery."
"Cordless phones run on a battery too," Adam whispered, sitting back up and running a hand through his hair to fix it. '
But it felt different. Lacey had never talked on a cell phone before, and was surprised to learn Adam had one. Or, well, not on one hand because he could certainly afford it, but because he never used it.
"Who do I call other than you?" He'd answered when she had asked why that was. "Mom and Dad just want me to have it for emergencies. But I'm bad about not charging it."
"Well, I've got to go anyway," Lacey tried to finish up, knowing they were about to leave for dinner. "Adam's phone doesn't have many minutes left. Love you guys and I'll call back tomorrow or the next day, okay?"
After the rounds of goodbyes were said, she searched for the button to hangup but Adam finally took it from her, tapping one that had a red symbol on it.
"Oh."
Simple enough.
The trip to dinner was uneventful, but the actual dinner was the most unbelievable experience Lacey had ever had. Travis had reserved them a "table," as it were, at a place called Sheets in the Wind. Lacey immediately saw the correlation between the name and the expression, figuring this place would be a little more bar-like than the other atmospheres had been, but she clearly had no idea. It wasn't until the host, standing in a mediocre lobby wearing a mediocre dress pants and vest ensemble, said "Let's go to bed," that she felt a little wary.
The six of them were led into a room, big enough to be a gymnasium, that contained row after row of beds covered in white comforters.
"...Excuse me," Phil turned back to the host after he'd taken his time surveying his surroundings. "There must be some mistake. My family and I were under the impression that this was an actual restaurant."
"It is, Dad! But isn't it cool? We actually get up on those beds to eat," Travis explained, animated, his arm around a stoic Gretchen. "Some guys I know come out here on business trips, and they never leave without visiting this place."
"Oh! Adam, pull out your camera!" Yvette gasped. "This is such a novel idea, can you believe it?! Phil, Honey, this is one of those 'stretching' opportunities we talked about, okay?"
Adam was looking back and forth between his parents.
"Yvette, this…," Phil pointed to one of the beds as the host stood patiently by, "is not a 'stretching' opportunity. It's a joke. I'm going to sit down at a normal table with chairs and eat, and so is everyone else. I'm sorry, Sir," he turned resolutely back to the host. "We'd like a refund on our reservation deposit, please."
"Dad, are you serious?" Travis's eyes flashed for a moment. "This is one of the best places in San Francisco! I didn't want us to miss it, all right?"
Phil turned back to point at Travis, but just as he was opening his mouth to speak, Yvette squeezed his arm and spoke up. "Perhaps if you have a dining chair that could be pulled up to the bed, that would suit. Surely you do that sometimes?"
She flashed her prize-winning smile at the young man who took a deep, calming breath, tilting his chin up to regain the composure that had been slipping through his fingers. "Yes, ma'am. It can be arranged. Now will everyone else be sitting on the bed?"
Travis and Yvette agreed, Gretchen acquiesced, and Lacey also voiced her consent. Adam took his sweet time in replying, but finally nodded.
"Alright. Let me lead you over. Then, shoes off, and climb onto the bed in whatever order you'd like." By this time, the host's peppy spirit was all but gone.
The food at Four Sheets in the Wind turned out to be some of the best they'd had so far, surpassed only by that of Atelier Crenn. To boot, everyone ordered drinks, and after both Adam and Lacey used their own straws to take little sips of this and that, the whole family was sufficiently tipsy enough to play a game of Telephone when Yvette randomly mentioned it.
"Oh, I don't know Yvette," Phil chuckled, considerably loosened up. "I'm eating dinner on a bed. Do we really have to push the envelope?"
"Yes, this is always funny when people have been drinking. Okay!" She held up her martini glass and tapped it with her knife. "So we all know how to do this, right? First person tells a message to the second person, who sends it around until the last one says out loud what the message was. Who's ready?"
"I'm only in if I'm first." Adam reached over for another piece of now-cold asiago flatbread.
"Go ahead then. Whisper to Lacey."
Adam finished chewing his bread, then took a long sip of Travis's leftover rum and Coke. "Alright. I already have something."
Lacey smiled at him as he leaned in, his warm breath tickling her ear before he whispered, simply:
"I want you."
She felt light-headed and hot all over, mechanically nodding and hoping her face gave away nothing. She'd now have to come up with the actual sentence to be passed around, and quick before–
"Nooo, too short!" Travis pointed. "Lay it on us better than that, bro, come on."
"Okay, let me try again." Adam wet his lips, thinking, before he whispered, "No rush. I just wanted you to know I'm ready whenever you are."
Battling the blush she felt rise to her face, Lacey quickly put her lips to Gretchen's ear and improvised:
"Phil opened his bathroom door to find a homeless guy taking a shower."
It wasn't great, but it was the best she could do under the circumstances. Her nerves were so rattled she could barely think.
Trying to focus so no one would notice anything odd, Lacey immersed herself in Telephone. The game was a hit. Everyone–even, shockingly, Gretchen–was howling with laughter when the sentences came out at the other end of the line sounding nothing like what they started out as. All the giggling throughout caused words to tangle around others. But even though Lacey laughed with the truly funny statements uttered during the game, her focus remained on Adam's electric presence beside her. She held his hand, but found that her fingers, laced with nervous energy, didn't want to be still. So she traced them tenderly over the lines of his hand, knowing by their skin connection that he was similarly affected by her touch. Lacey's heart raced like a jackhammer the rest of the evening, rendering her a little breathless.
"You okay?" Yvette was squeezing her shoulder as they all made their way to the taxi. She hadn't noticed the woman come up alongside her. "You seem a little preoccupied, and I just wanted to make sure that if you were thinking about your dad, you knew you have our support."
Lacey felt her stomach drop. Here, in the wake of her father's death, she was thinking about having sex with her boyfriend and nearly forgot to find a good pace to spread his ashes. She felt especially terrible for it for a moment. But she managed to give Adam's mom a grateful smile, replying, "I actually wasn't. I kind of had my mind on something else. But thank you for supporting me. You guys have been awesome."
Yvette flashed her a sweet smile and then patted her arm before finding her seat with Phil in the taxi van. On the ride home, Lacey found herself pressed extra tightly against Adam, his delicious warmth pouring peace and serenity over the frantic thoughts bouncing around in her head. She didn't say anything, but gave his ear a little kiss as the van passed under a steady row of streetlights. In return, he tightened his embrace about her shoulders. A layer of shyness had draped itself over both of them, causing them to dodge one another's gaze during the drive back.
The group soon tumbled in the front door of the rental house, still laughing. Lacey had heard Travis and Yvette laugh plenty of times before, but Gretchen's and Phil's exceptionally good humor was a welcome change. Lamps were turned on, to-go boxes crammed into the fridge, purses discarded on furniture, and Lacey was just about to take Adam's hand to lead him upstairs when Travis's voice sounded behind her.
"Hey! Aren't you gonna help us bake this cake for Squirt tomorrow?"
Crap. Almost forgot.
"Oh! Yeah, I sure am." She flashed a quick smile at Adam.
Yvette and Travis set everything out in the kitchen while Lacey went upstairs to change clothes. Part of her wondered if Adam might burst through the bedroom door right then, and she lingered a little in the act in case he did. But instead, she found him busy watching a baseball tournament on TV with his dad when she headed back downstairs and toward the kitchen. Good. Hopefully that would entertain him while she disappeared into a cloud of flour and sugar with Travis and Yvette.
In the couple of hours it took, Lacey found herself enjoying the activity she'd committed herself to. She learned about sifting dry ingredients together, the importance of room temperature eggs and butter, and just how long it could take to mix frosting together to get out all the powdered sugar lumps. It seemed like an awfully long, drawn-out process to go through simply to make cake, but this was a labor of love–a reminder that Adam was in the world. And she was so very thankful.
At the end, Lacey stood staring at a two-tiered, chocolate buttercream masterpiece. Travis had truly amazed her with his dexterity with a piping set, and she had never tasted a batter so wholesomely sweet as that of the yellow cake she and Yvette had whipped up. Adam was going to have a great nineteenth birthday.
And it was going to start tonight, despite her best-laid plans to wait until tomorrow night. Taking a deep breath, Lacey took off her apron and folded it up.
"Adam?" She inquired nonchalantly as she went into the living room. "I'm going up, okay?"
He didn't take his eyes off the TV screen as he stood up slowly, for all the world acting as though the baseball game was the most interesting thing he'd ever watched.
"I mean, you can stay if you want," she quickly improvised. "I was just letting you know I'm going to bed. Good night, Phil."
"Goodnight, Lacey." Phil glanced over at her just briefly enough to be polite, which was his standard.
But of course, the minute she turned to head upstairs, she heard Adam murmur "Night Dad" as his footsteps could be heard mounting the stairs behind her. Lacey smiled and bit her lip, waiting a moment for him to catch up. When she turned and saw Adam looking up at her with a sparkle in his eye, she flashed him a mischievous grin and broke out into a sprint up the stairs. For as long as they'd been dating, they had this silly ritual of playing a game of chase on staircases. The person walking in front would jog up the stairs before the person walking behind could catch them. It was the kind of goofiness that never failed to elicit a loud groan from her mom every time Lacey practically tripped up the stairs to get away from Adam, giggling like a twelve-year-old.
Heart thumping as hard as humanly possible, Lacey made it up the stairs and through the door, followed by Adam, who usually let her win. After they laughed quietly together for a moment, he slowly headed over to the bureau to take his wallet out of his jeans.
Now was the time.
Lacey stood still, bringing a hand up to rub her other arm awkwardly, willing him to look up into the mirror that hung in front of him. Then she could meet his eye and let him know that she was unequivocally his. Should she begin undressing? Or go over and start undressing him?
In the end, Lacey found herself doing what came naturally to her: she took a few tentative steps toward him. Finally, when she was only a couple of feet away, Adam glanced up into the mirror through his eyelashes as he was taking his button-up shirt off, and looked up, lifting his head to lock eyes with her. He turned around then, appearing unsure of what to say until Lacey crossed the distance between them and reached up to wrap her arms around his shoulders, drawing him down toward her in a sweet, slow kiss. If this didn't give him the picture, she wasn't sure what would.
/*/*/
Soooo, yeah. Adam's about to have a REALLY Happy Birthday.
Is that all, you ask? Well, it just so happens, I have simultaneously posted a Bonus Content chapter for those who wish to read Adam and Lacey's first sweet, but awkward (and a little spicy!) physical encounter. It's very tasteful, and hopefully not unnecessarily detailed. It'll just give you romantics a little extra POW! for your buck, haha.
For those who aren't so keen on "love scenes" and want to forego all foolishness in order to keep pushing through the progression of the story unimpeded, you may certainly skip the Bonus Content chapter and move onto the next one, which will be released Friday, without missing any of the actual plot.
Either way, hope you enjoyed this installment!