Page 87 of Bad Crush
Now that I’m making eye contact with him, he walks toward me. “You ready?”
“Almost.”
“Go,” Mila says. “I’ll cover for you.”
“Really?”
She nods and waves me off.
“Thanks.” I jump down from the stage.
Adam takes my backpack and slips it over one shoulder. “How was rehearsal?”
I kiss him hello. “Not as bad as yesterday, but not good. Your girlfriend might be the laughingstock of Valley University after this show.”
“No chance.” His reassurance is endearing, if not totally unfounded. “Do you want to stay and practice or rehearse, whatever you call it? I can read lines or something.”
“That’s sweet of you to offer, but the theater is booked tonight for an orchestra performance.” I loop my arm through his. “Feed me?”
“That I can do.”
* * *
After dinner,we shut ourselves in Adam’s room to work. He’s got his laptop in front of him; eyes scrunched together in hard concentration.
“How’s the speech coming?” I ask.
He looks up and blows out a breath. “It’s crap. I know it’s crap, and I can’t seem to fix it.”
“Do you want me to read it and see if I can help?”
“Uh-uh.” He shakes his head adamantly. “Not until it’s done. It’s too rough.”
Adam’s funny that way. Never wanting people to see his rough draft of anything. Yet, somehow he accepts me in all my unpolished glory.
He took the whole catching me in a wedding dress thing way better than I thought he would. He even made Dakota send him the picture she snapped with me in it.
Things are good with us, and that’s scary. It takes a lot to trust that someone is going to be there for you no matter what. I don’t have a lot of those people in my life, but I’m starting to think Adam might be one of them.
“I’m sure that you’re being too hard on yourself. What would you say to the guys if you were in the locker room, down by one, going into the third period?” I ask.
“I don’t even know. Words just sort of come out of my mouth without thought.”
“Like…”
He thinks for a moment. When he speaks, his voice is deep and authoritative. “What d’ya say, boys? What d’ya say? Let’s get that W.”
“That’s it?” I laugh.
He grins sheepishly and shrugs a shoulder. “I told you I wasn’t really that inspiring.”
I raise my arm to show him the goosebumps. “It’s all in the tone, apparently.”
“When I put on the uniform and step onto the ice, it’s different. It’s the one place I feel completely confident in my abilities.”
“I get that. It’s your stage.”
“Yeah, I guess so. Too bad I can’t give my speech there. I hate that so much is riding on this. What if I get up there and freeze or forget what I want to say?”
