“Fuck ’em” was Adam’s response, his voice husky as he slid his hand beneath the slit in my gown. Oh my God.
I stifled a moan, and he pressed his palm against my leg. So warm. I shifted, and his fingers trailed a path up my inner thigh. “Adam, behave,” I half-hissed, half-groaned.
He just smirked and then moved his hand another inch higher. He was dangerously close to where I wanted him most, and I put some serious consideration into returning the favor. It might be fun to see just how hard I could get him right here at the table, not to mention good payback for teasing me so.
But just then the waiter showed up with the drinks, and Adam slipped his hand out from under my dress. I thought our fun was over, but he leaned in close to my ear and whispered, “Just so you know, Maddy, behaving is the last thing I plan on doing tonight. Just wait until we get back to the hotel and I have you all to myself.”
Adam was killing me. I was about to jump him right there, hell with the hotel. But Helena’s voice rang out, bringing me to my senses. “Enough, you two,” she said. “God, you’re worse than us.”
Adam sat back in his chair but not before giving me a lingering look that promised we’d be continuing this shortly. And it was at that exact second—Adam and I caught up in this moment of lust, desire, need, but also love—that Helena snapped a photo of us.
When she glanced down, I swore the usually unflappable Mrs. Jackson blushed. “Uh, I think I’ll be sending this one to your phone, Maddy, and then deleting it.”
The band began to play, and Helena fiddled with her phone for a few seconds. When she and Nate got up to dance, she mouthed to me, “Don’t worry, I texted you a copy and deleted the one on my phone.”
I was anxious to see the image that had made Helena blush, the image she clearly felt was too personal to keep. I snatched up my phone and scrolled to the text. I clicked on the picture, allowing it to fill the screen. I quietly shared it with Adam. He smiled. I knew he saw what I did. And it was this… Sometimes a photo has the power to capture a perfect moment in time. This photo had done just that.
And if I could have frozen that moment in more than just a picture, just kept things the way they were, I would have in a heartbeat.
***
Adam lived up to his promise later that night. Back at the hotel, he had me in just about every way imaginable. I think we defiled every inch of the suite—the bathroom as well—until we lay drenched in sweat, too sore to move. Or at least I was. We’d somehow ended up on the floor, but Adam lifted me up to the bed, wrapped me in his arms, and held me as we slept.
I awoke the next morning achy but in the best way possible. Adam was already gone, off to his breakfast meeting with Nate. The spot where he’d slept was cool, but the memories of what we’d done throughout the night warmed me thoroughly, despite my lack of clothes. With a silly grin still on my face, I got up, showered, and dressed. I was beyond happy.
By the time I left the hotel, however, bound for Cambridge in a cab, the gravity of what I was about to do began to wear on me. After the night we’d just had, I especially didn’t want to find out Adam had lied to me. The past couple of weeks had been a respite from all the worries that had plagued me since receiving Ami’s letter. But now those concerns came back with a vengeance.
The taxi dropped me off in front of a nondescript, red brick building that screamed 1970s. There were six floors, but The News Record of Cambridge occupied the second floor only, or so I’d been told. By Joy, who was nowhere to be found.
The wind cut through the thin material of the skinny jeans I was wearing. I bounced up and down and shivered. I pulled the belt of the gray winter coat from my dad tighter and walked toward the glass double doors at the entrance.
At that exact moment, a girl, who couldn’t have been more than nineteen, came around from the side of the building. Her short, spiky hair was bleached to a platinum shade, and tipped in teal. She held her arms wrapped tightly around her frail frame, the dark-colored windbreaker she was wearing not nearly sufficient enough to protect from the bitter temperature. “Are you Maddy?” she asked as she approached, teeth chattering. She actually seemed very sweet, quite different from on the phone.
“Yes,” I responded. “You must be Joy.”
She blew on her hands and nodded as she stood in front of me. She was cute up close, her elfin features a perfect match to her tiny size. But there were dark circles under her eyes, and she looked really tired. “Late night?’ I ventured.
“God, yes. I don’t know what I was thinking, agreeing to meet you here this early.” She unlocked the glass doors. “I guess I forgot about my plans for New Year’s Eve. I actually haven’t even slept yet.” Joy pushed the door open and a gust of warmth seeped out, all the encouragement either of us needed to hurry inside.
“I’m sorry,” I said, stomping my feet to dispel the snow from my knee-high boots. “I promise I’ll be quick.”
Joy shrugged her small shoulders, like it didn’t really matter now that she was here, and then she motioned for me to follow her to a stairwell in the back. We traveled down a dingy, long hallway. The building was as old and out-of-date on the inside as the exterior had
