Newly Exposed (9 page)

I jumped in place and turned to see Adam smiling down at me.
 

“God, you can’t just walk up on people like that. You could scare them half to death,” I said, as I pulled out my ear buds.

“If I scared you, would you cuddle up next to me for protection?”

I looked him up and down and said, “No, you idiot, if you scared me, I would most likely cock punch you and run away.”

He twisted his lips and said, “Hmm, not exactly what I was looking for.”

“What are you doing out here?” I asked, shutting the top of my laptop.
 

He shrugged his shoulders and sat on the lounge chair next to mine, after pulling in closer so we were only a few inches apart. The man was persistent, but subtle…at times.

“Things were going to start to get crazy in there with the guys. Those girls were wearing short dresses and the dance moves they were taking part in weren’t exactly PG. It’s really not my scene.”

“You don’t like partying?”

“Not really,” he said, looking up at the dark sky. “I’m more of a homebody…you know, watch a movie and eat some popcorn kind of guy.”

I was surprised by his candidness. I knew he was different, and I hated to admit it, but a little part of me was happy that he didn’t want to partake in one of the many parties the guys had each week. It made him that much more real to me.
 

“I’m the same way,” I admitted. “I don’t mind having a drink every now and then, but Nolly and the guys make it an evening ritual. I don’t understand where they get the energy. I mean, I’m not some old maid, but still, I like to be in bed at a decent hour.”

Adam laughed and then pushed his lips over his teeth so it looked like he had no teeth and said in an old man voice while waving his fist, “Damn, youngins and their party hootin’ and hollerin’.”

I laughed and shook my head. “I said I wasn’t an old maid.”

“No, you’re definitely not,” he replied, looking me up and down. His gaze landed on my attire, and with his hand, he pulled up the fabric of my pajama pants and said, “Ninja Turtles? Could you be any cooler?”

“I don’t think I could,” I teased. “Kind of maxing myself out here.”

“You really are,” he said with a smile, as he slipped his body down the length of the lounge chair and propped his head up on his hand. It was hard to not fall into the turquoise color of his eyes and the expanse of his boyish smile. I could feel myself gravitating toward him, so I made a conscious effort to keep my distance. But I couldn’t help but stretch out on my lounge chair as well and face him, only because I was getting tired, at least that’s what I told myself.
 

“Who’s you’re favorite turtle?” I asked.
 

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” he said with that dimpled smile that was slowly tearing my walls down.
 

“Deal,” I responded. “Now, I just want it to be known that all the turtles are amazing in their own way…”

“Cleary,” he said, motioning his hand for me to continue.
 

“But if I had to choose one, I would have to choose…Donatello.” I held up my hand quickly and said, “Not because he is purple and I’m a girl.”

He nodded in understanding and allowed me to continue.
 

“I like him because he is the smart one, like me, but he’s also cool.”

Adam’s dimple grew to a new depth as his smile brightened. “You’re right about that, muffin.”

I let the name slip this time but only because he thought I was smart and cool.
 

“What about you?” I asked.
 

“Well, now I feel stupid about my favorite.”

“Come on,” I said, poking his hard chest, his very hard chest. Oh, fuck me, it was hard.
 

A wave of heat spread through my body as I tried to ignore the raging need for the man lying across from me who punctured my soul. No, it was just a little lust, a little infatuation, that’s all, I tried to convince myself.

He rubbed his chest and then looked me deep in the eyes, like he could see my soul and read every emotion I was having for him. He pressed his hand against my cheek and my stupid body reacted to his touch by pressing against his warm hand.
 

“Promise not to make fun of me?” he asked.
 

Were we really talking about Ninja Turtles while he held onto me ever so lightly and my heart was about to beat right out of my chest? There was something so wrong with this.
 

“Promise,” I said with a smile.
 

The loss of his hand when he moved it was devastating as he turned his body and looked up at the dark night sky.
 

“Michelangelo,” he said without looking at me.
 

“Michelangelo? Why? Was he your favorite artist or something?”

He shook his head and turned incredibly serious, and I prepared myself for some deep meaning that I probably didn’t want to learn about him, because it meant that we were getting closer. I needed to keep my distance, but who was I kidding? There was no way in hell I wanted to put distance between us; I only wanted to get closer.
 

He grabbed my hand and rubbed my knuckles as he lowered his head. “I don’t know if I can tell you this.”

“Adam, come on, you can tell me. I told you I wouldn’t make fun of you,” I reassured, but I was feeling slightly confused, since we were talking about Ninja Turtles.
 

He nodded and then looked back up at me while taking a deep breath as I waited in anticipation.
 

“It’s because…” he paused, almost too long, and then looked back up at me with such intensity in his eyes that I actually started to fret over what he was going to say. “It’s because I can’t get enough of pizza, just like Mikey.”

I sat up and looked at him and that now spreading smile of his.
 

“I hate you,” I laughed.
 

“What? Why?”

“I thought you were serious.”

“I am. Pizza addiction is a serious thing, nothing to be laughed at,” he replied with a slight smirk.

“You’re ridiculous,” I said, as I stretched out along my chair again.
 

“Cowabunga, dude,” Adam said like a dork, impersonating Michelangelo.
 

“You know, you really need to work on your impersonations. They’re not the best.”

“What? I take offense to that. I would like to see you do better.”

I turned toward him and said, “I know I would be awful at them…that’s why I don’t do them, to avoid embarrassment, something you should try doing.
 

Adam looked around and said, “Who ordered the spice muffin? Because I sure as hell didn’t.”

I tried to hide the twitch of my lips at his comment, but it was no use, he saw the way he affected me. Trying to deter him from pointing out the fact that he was slowly digging his way into my heart, I said, “Is Michelangelo really your favorite?”

“Yes, I love him. When I was younger, I actually used to beg my mom to make me the same kind of pizzas Mikey had.”

“Did she?”

“Yeah,” he said as he looked off, remembering his childhood. “I stopped begging after she made me Mikey’s favorite, anchovies and peanut butter.” He shook his head and continued, “That shit was so nasty.”

A pure laugh escaped my throat as I thought about little Adam trying to choke down the made-up concoction.
 

“Serves you right; not everyone can be a turtle.”

“You got that right. When I was young, I used to spend nights in the barn, waiting for rats to pop up, so I could ask them if they knew Master Splinter.”

“You did not,” I laughed and shoved his shoulder.
 

He held up his hand and crossed his heart. “I swear! I would sneak out at night, run down to the barn, and wait for Master Splinter to come along and recruit me. Never did happen.”

“Yeah, Splinter was probably only trolling the streets of NYC for little boys to join his clan.”

“If only I didn’t live in Nebraska,” he replied in a far off voice.

“Yes, if only,” I said, playing into Adam’s dream life.
 

“What about you? Did you ever have any hopes or dreams?”

“Like becoming a Ninja Turtle?”

“Something like that,” he smiled.
 

I thought about it for a second, while Adam waited patiently. His posture was relaxed and it baffled me that such a strong and attractive man could be so down to earth and funny. He didn’t care about making a fool of himself, and he was so incredibly easy to talk to that I felt myself wanting to learn more and more about him with each passing second. And even though he was easygoing and normally smiling, there was something about the lines around his eyes that aged him, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, and with one wrong move all his walls would crumble down.
 

“Come on, there has to be something,” Adam said, as he brushed a wisp of hair off of my face, making me melt on the spot.
 

“Oh, there are things, I’m just trying to think of which one is the least humiliating.”

“Please tell me there is some kind of
Star Wars
fantasy in there.”

“You know there is,” I laughed.
 

Smiling brightly, he said, “You have to tell me.”

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” I said defiantly with a smile.
 

“Come on, Solo. You can’t leave me hanging like this.” His bottom lip pouted and he scooted closer, while pulling me in at the same time. His hand ran along my hip, sending tingles all through my body. “Pah-wease.”

“Ugh, you’re annoying.” I pushed him away, but he grabbed my hands and pulled me even closer. His hand went to my hair and lightly grazed my head with the soft tips of his fingers. My breath hitched as I tried to regain my composure from his close proximity.
 

“We’re sharing, muffin; embrace it.”

I rolled my eyes and turned my body so I was looking up at the sky. I could feel Adam’s heated gaze on me, but I chose to ignore it.
 

“Fine, if you must know. I used to put twenty five cents outside every night, under the welcome mat for the cinnamon bun fairy.”

“The what?”

“My dads used to have milk delivered to our door step…”

“Like in the fifties?” Adam interrupted me. I turned toward him again and pressed my fingers against his lips to quiet him. He kissed my fingers and I pulled them away in shock, as if he just lit them on fire. “Watch yourself, muffin. Get that close again and I might not just kiss your fingers.”

“Don’t call me that,” I huffed. “And, yes, like the fifties. But they used to say the dairy fairy came; little did I know they were talking about the gay milk man who they were friends with. I found that out later.”

“Okay…” Adam drawled out.
 

“So, I thought if I put twenty five cents under the mat, the cinnamon bun fairy would come by and leave some buns for me.”

“Why would you want buns?”

“Well, at the time, I had a problem with scissors. I thought it was fun to cut things, you know, pillowcases, carpet…hair.”

“Whoa, you were a little Edwina Scissorhands,” Adam joked while making motions with what I could only assume were his fake scissor hands.
 

“Pretty much, and it was a crime in a gay household to, not only chop my hair off, but to cut up my dads’ thousand count Egyptian cotton sheets. As a punishment, they left my hair all chopped up and short until I learned not to cut my hair anymore.”

“Is there evidence of these younger years? I’m going to need proof.”

“Stop,” I laughed, while shoving him again.

“I would pay to see that.”

“Can I finish?”

“I don’t know if my heart can take all the cuteness; you’re already filling it up, but please, continue.”

My breath seized from his compliment. The other guys said corny things to me all the time, but with Adam, it was one hundred percent genuine, and it was slowly starting to eat away at me. He was too good.
 

“Like I was saying, my hair was all kinds of crazy messed up, and this was right around when my obsession with
Star Wars
happened, so I wanted nothing more than to look like Princess Leia…”

Adam covered his mouth with his hand and said, “Oh shit, no you didn’t…”

I nodded my head. “Yup, I wanted cinnamon buns for my hair, so I could look like the princess.”

Adam threw his head back and wholeheartedly laughed as he held his stomach. I watched as his strong shoulders shook with glee and he wiped tears from his eyes.
 

“God, that is so damn precious.” He looked back at me and cupped my face. “You’re too much, Solo. Too much for the heart…you fill it right up.”

I just shrugged my shoulders, not really knowing what to say. His thumbs stroked my cheeks as he drew me in closer. I knew what he wanted, hell, I wanted it too, but there was a reason why I couldn’t, and it was the reason he was here. He was a Teeg model, I couldn’t go there.