Past Perfect

Chapter 4

I nodded and smiled.

"Ollie, man, you call me, you hear? Any time, I'll be here. Hoo-ah."

"Hoo-ah." Adam repeated, giving him another one arm hug with a few slaps on the back.

We were alone.

Tension breathed around us, crackling and snapping. Finally, I broke first. "Adam, what-"

"Eden." His gaze snapped to me, hostile and intimidating. "Let it go. It's Army stuff, stuff you wouldn't understand."

My mouth tightened. "I just kicked your ass in Jeopardy. You really think I can't understand the word hearing means you're under investigation?" 

He met my outraged glare without flinching. “It’s complicated.”

“You’re unbelievable.” I moved past him, but he shot out an arm to stop me.

“Funny, that’s what I was thinking about you.” He said.

“Me? Why am I unbelievable? Because I can see your pain and want to help? But you don’t need anybody's help.” I thrust my arms out wide, gasping at the pain. Damn it! I had to gulp back a sudden rush of tears.

Adam's eyes softened and he sucked in a breath. When he spoke, his voice no longer cut me. “You're flushed. Is your fever back?”

I’d been running the low-grade fever all day. “What do you care?"

"Been asking myself that same question." He muttered under his breath, but I heard it.

"Go to hell." I tried to shove past him, but he grabbed my hand almost hard enough to hurt.

"Wait." Adam set the brakes on his wheelchair, moved the footrests and climbed slowly to his feet. Or, foot, actually. My breath caught and I stared at him in disbelief. He was quite tall with broad shoulders and hard lines. Instinctively, I raised my arms to brace him, but when he glared at me, I forced them to lower. Slowly, he raised a hand to my face, gently touched the still-raw skin on my throat. His thumb skimmed my lower lip. I was mad, but forgot why when a hot little shiver danced along my nerves. The muscles in my belly contracted in a sensation that, for once, wasn’t pain.

“I care." He murmured. "Not that that's worth anything." He dropped his hand and the spell was broken. "You know, you’re not at all what I expected.”

Annoyance prickled my skin. “Let me guess. You thought I always strut around in stage make-up, big hair, six-inch heels and boas, like one of my photo spreads?”

His lips curled into the familiar smirk. “Okay, first, the only boas I know are snakes and something tells me that’s not what you’re talking about. And second, I just meant you’re somebody real.”

My eyes narrowed to slits. “Gee, you think?”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. He held up his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. But this hearing crap is my problem. You have enough of your own. Good night.”

He lowered his hand, grasped the sides of the wheelchair and settled himself down with no help from me. I turned, dragged my IV pole into my room and closed the door, trying to remember how to breathe.

The car inches along the Long Island Expressway. It's already dark and I am very late. I text Ashley and Belinda, explaining we're stuck in traffic. Only Ashley replies. I beg Maddie to drop me off directly at Matt Lambert's house, instead of stopping home first.

Maddie scolds me for much of the unbearably long ride home. I didn't take direction. I acted sullen. I was rude. I was unprofessional and ungrateful. I ignore her, too busy scraping off the layers of make-up with a package of wipes Maddie always carried. I text Belinda again. Still no reply. I scrape a brush through my hair, ungluing all the gel, mousse and spray, and coil it into a knot fastened with a band.