Page 45 of Lucy Loves Him Not
“Oh great, more research projects. I can just see it now. You hanging around our house and planning brunches in the name of research,” I teased him. He had that devilish little gleam in his eye. It was fast becoming one of my favorite Adam expressions.
“I like that you gave your daughters your last name,” Adam said to Mom. “You Rhodes women, from Clara to Gracie, all sharing the same name.”
“Well, that was actually these girls doing.” Mom’s eyes sparkled as she let her eyes drift from me to Olivia. “See, when their dad was still in the picture we shared his last name, very traditional. But I changed my last name after the divorce—it felt healing and necessary. I left my daughter’s names the same, though. I wasn’t sure what their futures held. As the girls got older,they choseto change their last names.”
“We are undeniably the Rhodes girls.” Olivia shrugged with a pleased grin. “We just had to make it legal.”
“We claimed the name long before we made the official change,” I added, thrumming fingers across the table. “We asked Mom one Mother’s Day if she would consent. She said, ‘of course.’”
“A legacy was born,” Mom said cheekily.
“See, that’s a dramatic thing to say,” Olivia said, hands held wide open toward Mom as if to present her case. “You’re definitely a percentage of the drama!”
Mom and Olivia went back to bickering over drama percentages. A story about Olivia dating one of the public pool’s lifeguards and almost causing a drowning when the two of them were flirting at the snack stand was brought up as proof. Olivia brought up Mom’s book club drama when she and a few of the other members thought one of the other club members might’ve been a serial killer mentioned in that month’s book pick.
But Adam and I had our own thing going, a back and forth between us making little jokes about the conversation, just to see if we’d make each other laugh. Stealing glances, sharing reactions, like we’d never left our car bubble from earlier.
At 11:00 p.m., my mom announced she had to go to bed. Olivia said she didn’t want to drive home, so she was going to sleep in the guest bedroom.
Adam asked if I wanted to walk out with him since I had parked my car at Mom’s earlier before riding with her to the library.
I was torn. I knew there was everything here if I wanted to sleep over like Olivia. And normally, I would. But then for reasons I didn’t want to think about, everything in my body saidwalk out with Adam.
My body won the fight with my mind.
Adam and I waved goodbye to Olivia as she brewed herself a mug of chamomile tea in the kitchen. I ignored any insinuationor accusation in her smug expression. “Call me in the morning,” she said in a sing-songy voice as I closed the door behind me.
“Sorry again for the inquisition tonight,” I said to Adam as we walked down the front porch stairsteps. The sky was inky black, but streetlamps glowed around us. Crickets chirped in the grass.
“I happily agreed to it when your mom said she had a few questions for me.” Adam was grinning down at me and his glasses slid down his nose just a little. It was too adorable, I had to look away.
“Have you really not been on a date in six months?” I couldn’t resist fact-checking.
“Yes,” he said. “Why? You want to set me up?”
“Oh, dear. Who do I hate enough to torture like that?” A warm breeze tickled my skin.
“Ouch,” he whimpered playfully. “I’m a good date, you know.”
“Oh yeah?” We stopped in front of my car. He stepped closer to me. I could smell the delicious Adam scent I’d come to know and love from his borrowed sweatshirt.
“Yeah, I am. I’m a master of the goodnight kiss,” he said this in his playful, cocky Adam way, but there was a tenderness to his tone.
I looked up into his eyes. I could’ve put my hands on his chest, felt his heartbeat. My hands were itching, hanging there beside me.
It was just the two of us, hesitating, waiting, wondering. Always the competition with the two of us:I won’t if you won’t.
I stepped back and swallowed. “I don’t know if I trust your opinion on this.”
“Need to do your own research?” he asked, not stepping back, still close.
“I haven’t been on a date in years, so I’m not the expert on anything dating-related.” I could feel the heat in my cheeks. I touched them mindlessly.
“I literally saw you on a date,” he countered.
“Victor doesn’t count,” I exclaimed. A garage door hummed open a few houses down.
Adam leaned back against my car. “Poor Victor.”
