His voice was careful. Measured. Bizarrely unflappable. He was gauging me.
“But you do know me, so rest assured, it’s just a stomach bug,” I murmured into my pillow. I felt nauseous with heartbreak. Like if I puked, the only thing to come out of my mouth would be a hairball of tangled emotions.
He ambled deeper into my room, perching himself on the edge of my bed. He tilted my face up so I’d look at him. I slapped his hand away, scowling.
“Hands off, Mr. McPervert. You just touched Maya’s hoo-ha.”
“Not exactly,” he growled, unfazed. He looked luminous. Like seeing me jealous made his day, month, year. I grabbed the pillow under my head and flung it in his face. He chuckled, dodging my pillow and tugging at my foot, perching it on his lap.
“I know what I saw.”
“No, you don’t. Admit it, Nika. You want me. You don’t want to want me, but you do. You just needed a little push to realize it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I maintained, but the fact that ninety-nine percent of my blood was concentrated in my face told a different story. Had he messed around with Maya just to get a kick out of provoking me? What a jackass. I kicked him off of my bed, but he was taller, stronger, and much heavier. Every time I pushed, I was met with his supersonic strength.
Besides, that was our thing—we wrestled. A lot.
“Nik,” he hissed. My nickname on his lips sounded like a dirty word. We were becoming a ball of knotted limbs and panting chests as he pressed against me. He was pinning me down to my bed playfully, restraining my wrists with his long fingers. I tried to kick him off, but to him, it was just another wrestling session, like the dozens we engaged in every month. Only, I didn’t want to do the whole roll-on-the-carpet thing tonight. Where we were half-fighting, half-grinding against each other, arguing over mundane things nobody understood or cared about.
We would roll on the carpet until I felt his hard-on pressing against my back.
Until we were both panting and groaning.
Until Val or one of my parents would find us and tell us to knock it off.
But that was before he’d carelessly stomped on my heart on my living room couch just to make a point. Before I realized I was in love. Before figuring out if I let him continue stomping on my heart, there’d be nothing left.
“Get off of me,” I bit out. Maya’s strawberry body mist stuck to his shirt, to his fingers, to his neck. I wanted to throw up.
“Nik, listen.” He pressed his lips to my neck, and my whole body came alive with need and anger. “It was a dumb move, but it was a necessary one. I’m here now, and I want to talk. If I let you go, do you promise to hear me out?”
Was he bargaining with me? His releasing me shouldn’t be conditional. I’d told him to let go of me, and he hadn’t. I squirmed beneath him, but I didn’t really put up a fight or raise my voice. Secretly, shamefully, I still enjoyed his body on mine.
“You didn’t even let her finish. What a gentleman.” I smiled coldly in his face.
“Nik,” he warned. “Easy there. I know you’re mad, but from my point of view, I didn’t know if you cared a minute ago.”
So you decided to hook up with someone else in front of me? Fine logic you got yourself there.
“My bad. You wouldn’t know how to help a girl finish even if you tried.”
He grabbed my wrists and kissed my knuckles, one at a time, his grin unwavering. “You’re pretty when you’re mad.”
“You’re gross when you breathe.”
I knew I wasn’t exhibiting an abundant amount of maturity, but I was fed up.
Fed up with love.
Fed up with Adam.
Fed up with life.
He chuckled, pressing his lips to the shell of my ear. I was melting away, drowning in him once again. Suddenly, I had a glimpse of the future. Of all the girls he was going to hook up with at Juilliard. The future Adam, bragging about how he used to grind against his best friend’s baby sister. Even on the day when he fingered another chick on her living room couch.
Adam whispered, “What if I told you that when my hand was inside Maya’s panties, it wasn’t her I was thinking about?”
I’d had enough. I did what any self-respecting girl would do.
I kicked him in the nuts.
Not playfully, like we used to do when we wrestled. For real. Kneed his balls with everything I had in me, letting out a feral growl. He groaned, folding in two. I didn’t check if he was okay. I flung myself out of my room, slid into my sneakers, and bolted across the street to my best friend Greta’s house.
It would be the last time I’d see Adam Mackay before he became The Adam Mackay, world-famous superstar.
The next week, he packed up and drove to New York. He tried calling me, but I didn’t pick up. His texts were promptly deleted before I had the chance to peek at them. And whenever Val told us Adam was coming for a visit, I made sure I had other plans and wasn’t around.
Adam was a disease I decided to shake at all costs. For the most part, I succeeded.
And so, the day I fell in love with him was also the day I fell in hate with him.
In war with him.
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.
I thought about the movie I never got to finish as I pounded on Greta’s door, panting, tears running down my cheeks.
If only I could erase the memory of loving Adam Mackay, I’d prevail.
I’d move on.
Let my guard down and live a good, fulfilling life.
Feel the eternal sunshine on my skin, without the burn of the heartache.
Ten Years Later. Los
