Three days. There was no reason to panic, because it had only been three days.
Jo’s stomach turned over all the same. She flipped her phone so it sat facedown on her desk. The lack of a blinking light was too much of a distraction. Too much of a reminder.
Sure, she’d gone more than a week without talking to Adam right after they’d left Arecibo. But since then, the calls and texts had come more and more regularly. They’d been the best parts of her day. Perfect breaks from classes and studying and research.
And now she hadn’t heard a thing from him in three days. She rolled her eyes at herself, then kept her gaze trained skyward against the pressure behind her eyes. Okay, fine, after the second voice mail she’d left and the third unanswered text, he’d fired off a quick message letting her know he was fine, just busy, and he’d be in touch soon.
Busy. She’d heard that before.
It wasn’t even fair. She might be sitting here alone with nothing but her books and her laptop to keep her company, but he wasn’t like her. He’d proved that often enough. He had his family, his friends. Shannon. He went to parties and left his goddamn room sometimes.
Even if it wasn’t his ex. A guy like him, single on a college campus? They’d eat him alive, and fuck knew he hadn’t waited long between things falling apart with Shannon and jumping into bed with Jo. That he hadn’t hooked up with anyone until now was the miracle.
The worst part of it all was that this was what she’d wanted. Him moving on was a best-case scenario, and she’d be fine. She was always fine.
Who the hell was she kidding?
She took the time to mark her book before slamming it closed and shoving it aside. Adam had waltzed into her life and gentled her open. He’d been the best damn lay she’d ever had and the best friend—
And she’d pushed him away. Why? So she didn’t have to watch when he eventually walked off?
All her reasons came rushing back. She’d been protecting him, from himself and from her. Letting him tie himself to her was cruel, when she knew how he was. How faithful and constant and…
She shoved a hand into her hair and tugged hard.
Fuck. Was that really the worst she could come up with?
She was a coward. The worst kind. And now she was alone. Maybe he’d be nice enough to let their… whatever this was fade off quietly. Maybe he’d call at some point to tell her he’d moved on.
Crazy thoughts flooded her mind. Leaving voice mails, trying to keep him in her atmosphere, hadn’t worked. She shook with harsh laughter at the idea of showing up at his apartment. Did they even make boom boxes for idiotic jilted lovers to hold over their heads anymore? She could wave her goddamn Bluetooth speaker at him. Something.
She was losing him.
She’d already given him away.
Pushing back from her desk, she rose to stare at this tiny apartment she’d locked herself away in. All this time, it’d been her refuge, the place she’d escaped to. Now it felt like a prison.
She had to get out of there. Maybe she wasn’t driving to Philadelphia tonight to make a fool of herself. It was a Saturday night, but she sure as hell wasn’t trying the whole losing herself at a club thing. But she couldn’t stay here, brain circling and circling, returning again and again to the same point. She’d fucked up. Made a terrible mistake.
Her gaze caught on the sneakers she’d tossed near the door in disgust a few days prior. She’d tried running a handful of times now, and it hadn’t gotten any better. Credit where credit was due, though. It left her wrung out and sick to her stomach with shaking muscles, but it blanked her thoughts, at least for a little while.
Pulling up an angry playlist, she tucked a pair of earbuds in. With her keys clenched firmly in her hand, the jagged edges sticking out between her fingers in case anyone decided to fuck with her, she made her way downstairs. She did a couple of perfunctory stretches in the entryway of her building.
The cool, early autumn air enveloped her as she spilled out onto the sidewalk, scanning it for anyone coming her way. Cranking up the volume on her music, she set an easy warm-up pace toward the corner.
She made it barely a dozen strides before, out of nowhere, a hand closed around her arm.
And it was instinct. Jesus Christ, but it still was. She kicked her leg out to get into a solid crouch, had her weight just right to lay the guy out on his ass, only…
Only fighting her way out of every situation wasn’t her only option. Not anymore.
Not yielding an inch, she tore her earbuds from her ear. The roar of thrumming bass subsided into a tinny echo as the speakers fell, letting the rest of the world seep in around her again. The voice.
“Goddammit, Jo, I am not letting you do this to me again.”
Her heart stopped.
It was impossible. There was no way.
She shook free, pulse thundering to life again as she tried to get her head around the concept. The hands on her retreated, but she didn’t let her guard down. Twisting away, she got a foot of space between herself and the person who’d taken her by surprise.
And she might as well have been the one who’d gotten flipped. The one flat on her back and gasping for air.
He’d taken her by surprise all right. Here and now, and at every single turn. With his kindness. His attention and his patience, and the fact that he wouldn’t let her push him away. Even when she thought she’d managed it for good.
Because there, hands up in front of him, looking like the best thing she’d seen in her entire life, was Adam.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“You’re here.” Jo stuttered the words out on an exhalation, the pavement or her legs or possibly both going out from under her. She staggered backward until the brick wall of her apartment building came forward to meet her. Slumping against it, she stared at him.
“Jo—” Adam held out a hand, but then paused, not making contact.
It wasn’t quite disappointment coursing through her at the distance lingering between them. How could she possibly be disappointed? “You’re here,” she repeated, like she needed to say it out loud to have any chance of believing it.
He dropped his hand and lifted his chin, looking for all the world like he was gearing up for a fight, and that made her pause. “I am,” he said. “And I know—you probably weren’t expecting this. Hell, you probably didn’t even want it. But—”
Forget gearing up for a fight. He was ready to make a speech. And Jo wanted to hear it, whatever it was he’d come all this way to say, but right there, in that moment, it didn’t matter.
He was here. After all the times she’d felt alone and abandoned and like it would be absolute idiocy to ever depend on anybody else. She hadn’t asked, even though she’d wanted him, needed him, to come. The man she’d been so worried would hold on too long to something that wasn’t there, compromising and accepting less.
He was here for her.
So she cut him off before he could get another word out, before he could even try to convince her. She said the only thing in her brain at that moment. The only thing that mattered.
“I love you.”
Her own voice echoed in her head, the words she’d never imagined she’d ever say. It felt like the world should be spinning even harder on its axis with the weight of them. But the wall behind her didn’t give. If anything, the ground solidified, and her heart lit up, up, up.
Adam stopped in his tracks. He opened his mouth and closed it again, confusion warring with a desperate flicker of hope in his chest. “Excuse me?”
“I—” Her own mouth ached with the force of her smile. “I love you.”
Still frozen in his spot, he gawked at her, but the lines were seeping away, the worry going with them. How could she have left him so uncertain? Given him so much room to doubt?