Jennifer J. Coldwater

View Original

Chapter 19

Thanks for tuning in as I post chapters of my new novel When Ivy Met Adam: A second chance, forced proximity, sexy, queer love-triangle romance. Your feedback is everything. Please post comments here or email me. I love hearing what you think.

Prologue (old)Prologue (new)Chapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapters 8&9Chapter 10Chapter 11Chapter 12Chapter 13Chapter 14Chapter 15 (old)Chapter 15 (new)Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 18

Chapter 19 - Ivy

When next I open my eyes, Adam is still asleep and still curled around me adorably. Trying to breathe quietly, I slowly, slowly inch out from under his (still sexy as all get out) arm, untangling our legs, sliding to the edge of the bed. Because I’m me, I one-hundred-percent fall on the floor with an oof. I hear Adam try not to laugh. “You’re not even asleep,” I grump.

He peers over the edge of the bed at me with the smirkiest grin on his face. “Good morning, sunshine.”

“I was trying not to wake you.” 

“I could tell.” He offers me a hand to pull me up off the floor. 

“Sounds like it’s still raining,” I change the subject as I straighten my sleep shorts and open the curtains. “Oh. Wow.” It’s not merely raining. The wind is fierce and the trees are suffering for it. I can’t see or hear the surf but I imagine it’s churning. I kind of want to go see it, but it’s also scary to think about. 

“Yeah, look at that,” he says from very close behind me. He reaches to hold the curtains open further and essentially cages me in. I don’t hate it, although somehow I feel like I should. “A good day to stay in,” he echoes my thoughts. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please. But I’ll make it. Will you call to check on Baby Martin?” My first thought when I woke was of our little project last night. 

“Yeah, of course.” He picks up his phone off the charger and I head out to the kitchen to make coffee. 

I find a French press, the beans in the freezer, and I put on the kettle to heat water. Two mugs, half-and-half in the fridge (good man!), sugar, and teaspoons. As the kettle is about to whistle, Adam comes out of his room. 

“Mother and baby are happy and well. And Captain Martin sends his well wishes to you,” he says. “You found everything?” He’s smiling.

I nod. “Does he have a name yet? Or shall we continue to call him Baby Martin?” 

“They’ve named him Adam,” Adam says sheepishly, a handsome blush coloring his cheeks. “I didn’t point out that this is my chosen name.”

“Oh, I don’t think they care, Adam! What an honor! Is this the first time someone’s named their baby after you?” 

“Yes. It’s pretty cool. Adam Kapena Martin. Kapena is Hawaiian for Captain, apparently.”

“He’s named after you and his father—and his circumstances! That’s really lovely.” Without even thinking about it, I put my arms around Adam’s waist and rest my head on his chest. “I’m so proud of you, Dr. Lopez.” 

He wraps me in his arms and rests his cheek on my head. “I’m so proud of you, Nurse Ivy. Thank you for your help last night. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

I squeeze him, let go, and turn to pour coffee. “Oh, I’m sure you could have. But I was very happy to help.” I freeze in place. A memory smacks me upside the head and I’m suddenly in the library at school. “Do you think you want to get married someday?” I remember asking. “They don’t mean me when they say gay marriage.” That response makes so much more sense now than it did in the moment. All of this washes over me in a flash of panic because I was about to ask, “Do you think you will ever want to be a parent?” 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” He reads me like a book.

“Oh, nothing. I was thinking about all the responsibilities those two are taking home with them from this vacation,” I lie. 

“Indeed. But that’s not what you were thinking about. You went white as a sheet.” He takes his coffee cup from me and gestures to the couch. 

I sit on the opposite side of it from him with my coffee. I raise it to my nose to take in a long delicious whiff of the good stuff before I even sip it. Gah, I love coffee. “I was thinking about us.” 

“I love to hear it.” He moves closer to me on the couch and puts my feet in his lap. It’s not sexy or even suggestive, just friendly and comfortable. 

“I’m not ready to be anything more than friends, Adam. I made that clear—” 

He cuts me off. “I know. I understand. But I can be happy to know you’re thinking about us. Can’t I?” He smiles warmly at me. I love his smile. It was the first thing that attracted me to him on Bumble. Well, actually, it was the first thing that attracted me to him in the movie theater. Wait! Was that Adam?

“Adam, were you in Los Angeles last summer?” I ask. 

“Yeah, I even thought I saw you once, at a movie—Spider-man, maybe?”

“That was you,” I say with wonder. “I obviously didn’t recognize you. But now that I remember it, of course it was you. Isn’t that weird? It’s like you say about online dating—would I have been attracted to this person had we met in real life?” 

He laughs. “Yeah, it’s like some weird Schroedinger’s cat thing.”

“I was thinking more like Sliding Doors,” I say. “I vividly remember seeing you. There was some guy sitting between us—”

“My roommate,” he says. “Marcus. He’s a chef for a family—well, a family and a big company—in LA. I was visiting him that summer. He’s the one who rents me a room when I’m not working.” 

“He wasn’t your date?” I crinkle my nose at him, trying to hint that I’m teasing. 

“Ha! No, he was not my date.” He laughs, thank goodness. Laughing together feels amazing. I can’t admit it out loud, but I missed this so much. 

“I got up during the pre-previews to get a better look at you,” I nearly whisper. 

“That’s funny.” He looks at me. “I remember thinking the hot woman next to Marcus got up so I could watch her perfect figure walk by.” 

I laugh. “I promise that was not my motive! But I kind of dig that we were both attracted to each other. I mean, we were essentially strangers at that point.” This, for some reason, makes me sad.  

“What’s the matter, Ivy?” 

“I guess we have always been strangers,” I say around a lump in my throat. “I never knew you.”

“You knew my heart.” He offers me his hand and I take it. 

“That’s very kind of you to say.”

Of course, there’s more to it than that. But it can wait. 

Adam announces that he’s getting a shower. 

It’s still stormy outside, the rain relentlessly pounding the window panes. I suddenly feel trapped, suffocated, and desperate for something to break the tension.

Adam moves closer to me to get up from the couch, and I can feel his eyes on me, but I don't want to look at him. Not while my head is swimming like this. But then he says, “Do you think this could be part of being friends?”

Before I can even react, he leans in and kisses me. My first instinct is to push him away, to remind him of our agreement and my broken heart. But then something inside of me shifts, and I find myself responding eagerly to his touch.

As our lips meet, I feel a spark ignite within me, a deep desire that I can't ignore. I can feel myself chasing the dragon of that chemistry we had back in the day. I know I am experiencing the high of being desired by him, and I know I’m in trouble.

For a moment, I forget all about the pain he's caused me. All I can think about is how good it feels to be with him, how much I’ve missed this passion.

We continue to kiss, and I feel my body respond to his touch. Soon he is over me and I am arching up against his gorgeous hard body. I forget about everything else and allow myself to be swept up in the moment.