CHAPTER 20: You leave Adam's house a little after breakfast but before dinner - at around three in the afternoon. After Adam's outburst of emotions and confusion and desperation at the breakfast table - all the things you basically couldn't express - the tension between you is awkward and a little too... careful, as if you're both afraid of making any more damage to this relationship-like thing, and you know that's probably the reason. You can see it in his eyes when your gazes sometimes meet, the slight fear, the slight sadness, the way he sort of pulls back to be sure he doesn't make a bad move, and although it makes you kind of sad to witness, you can't blame him, cause you know you're doing the same thing. You don't want to hurt him anymore, don't want to fuck things up further, so you're careful, and so is he. You're both hiding behind the barricades, maybe in a poor attempt to save what might be left of a week-long acquaintance. It sounds so stupid, really, even in your own head, but it doesn't feel stupid: it feels real and intense and desperate. You've known him for a week, you both get wasted and screw up, you have sex, and now you're trying to save each other. From what? A mistake? Something you both can't face? Something too messed up? Something you both regret? How fucked up this is. And yet, you both play it by the rules. You both try hard to read the rulebook through and follow it to the very last punctuation mark. Why? Because he's the famous guy and you can't risk his reputation? Because it's just a shameful thing you did? Why?
He drives you home in a nice, black car with leather seats, and before you get in, he says: ''This is a relatively new car. The paparazzi haven't caught me in this one before, so I'll just park outside your apartment, you'll get out, and for all they know, it could be any guy setting you off. No more gossip shit about you, I swear.'' He smiles at you, faintly, half-reassuringly, and you smile back, because you don't want to give him an impression of how sad you really are with how this all turned out. You're sad about the fact that you were so stupid you got drunk enough to lose it and not even realize the dumbness in fucking Adam until it was too late, because you don't love him, and you shouldn't have done what you did - and especially not when he was drinking because of the breakup with his ex. You were so fucking stupid, and now what? You fear that you'll never see him again, that he'll delete your number and forget you as soon as you're at your apartment and out of his car, because this was all so damn stupid, but isn't there another way out of this? Can't you just ignore last night and be friends? Then again, it would be hard keeping up these weird meetups and strange ways of communicating you have after you've... felt him, and you both realize that. There's no way of hiding it.
'Hi, famous rock star dude I feel very sorry for and definitely care about but do not love yet fucked drunkenly in a bathroom!'
'Hi, average woman I don't really know that well but fucked in a bathroom!'
Oh, yeah. Great conversations you'll have after this.
''Hey, Emilie, uh...''
Caught up in thoughts as you were, you almost jump out of your seat when Adam starts talking. As you turn your head and look at him, quickly throwing a glance out the wind shield on the way, you realize he parked his car outside of your apartment block.
''I've been thinking, on the way here, you know, and...'' He looks down, biting his lip, as if he's really trying hard to look for the right words, and you immediately get a bad feeling, thinking he looks almost ashamed. ''I... I don't really know if we... should keep in touch, you know.'' He blinks, his eyes darting around with great insecurity, like he can't even make himself focus on one thing at a time. He's moving his leg, quickly but gently stomping his feet repeatedly into the floor of the car, following the rhythm to a beat that isn't there. ''I mean... I enjoy your company, Emilie, I swear, I do. You're so nice, you've been so nice to me, and you're beautiful, and... uh... uh... yeah, you're great, but... I... Rumors are already around, you know, and after last night... It's just... It's not... It's not right, you know? It's too... messy, complicated, and with... It'd
just be a mess, Emilie. I don't know what this is... what the things we have, if we have anything, what they are, but... it's not... it's not something I wanna have to figure out, you know. Not after this. It'd be too complicated. What we did... what I did when I called you the first time that night a week ago... I made a mistake, and... I shouldn't have done that. I should've left you alone. I'm sorry. I think we should just... leave each other be. Just forget this week. And you won't have to deal with paparazzi anymore. You won't have to deal with all this... celebrity stuff. They won't bother you. No one will know about last night, or this morning, or anything. Things will just go on. Like nothin' happened, you know? This'll be it.''
As a human being with great compassion to other people, you wouldn't have thought you would ever feel the desire to hit someone. And you sure as hell wouldn't have thought the first person to ever make you feel that desire would be Adam Levine. But right there, as you sit and hear him say those things, you really feel like reaching out and smacking him.
''What the hell, Adam?''
He looks at you with sudden confusion, obviously not understanding what that's supposed to mean. You stare at him with angry eyes that demand an answer, but he can only muster a question.
''What?'' he asks, sounding very puzzled, and you have to take a breath not to act on your sudden desire to be violent.
''What?!'' you blurt out, hearing the frustration in your own voice, and he freezes. ''Are you serious? How can you... How can you say things like that to me? What's all that supposed to mean?''
Adam suddenly looks scared.
''What, I'm just-'' he starts, but you cut him off before he can even speak half a sentence.
''Are you seriously just telling me that you - oops - fucked me, and now it's too difficult to handle the consequences, so now you won't even look at my face anymore? I understand that what we did was crap, and I understand that you wanna keep it low, hell, I was even prepared you'd tell me we can't see each other, but the way you say those things... You say it like all you did was take advantage of me all along. Was that all you did, Adam? Take advantage of me because I felt sorry for you?''
''No, Emilie, I swear to God, that wasn't... I truly appreciate what you did for me,'' Adam says, quickly like he wants to hurry up and say a few words before you interrupt him again. He actually sounds sincere.
''Then why are you so eager to get rid of me?'' you ask, and you actually kind of understand the words he says. You understand why this is complicated and difficult, you understand why he'd rather end it, but it's the way he says it... Kind of like, 'oh, okay, so, let's just end this real quick and move on, shall we?' It seems wrong, and it seems like now that things are too messy, he can't wait to get his ass out of trouble, and you'd at least expected for him to be a little more... sad. What you wouldn't expect though, is the heavy sigh that sort of just bursts out of him, accompanied with a very heavy voice.
''Emilie, there's somethin' I've... gotta tell you,'' he then confesses all of a sudden, and he sounds so deeply, abruptly serious that you immediately calm a little and focus on him. His eyes are strangely... guilty.
''My girlfriend asked me to get back together,'' he says.
