Free Six Months Later by Natalie D. Richards

against the sink with his arms crossed. How anyone can look this hot in a polyester button-down with Peachy Kleen! emblazoned across the pocket is beyond me, but he’s managing it.
    He’s more than managing it.
    “I didn’t mean that,” I say. “I didn’t think.”
    Well, technically I didn’t know, but it’s not like I can say that.
    “Yeah, you’ve been doing a lot of that lately. Not thinking.”
    I take a step toward him. I’m not sure it’s a good idea, but I’m not sure I can stop myself either. “I’m sorry.”
    “It’s fine.”
    “No, it’s not. It’s not fine. And I’m sorry.”
    “Yeah, you’ve said that,” he says, and then his brow furrows. “So is that it?”
    I blink at him, stunned into silence.
    He lifts his hands briefly, latex gloves stretched over his palms. “Apology received, Chloe. Consider your conscience clear.”
    I open my mouth, and God, why is it like this with him? I’m completely defective with Blake, but I swear the whole room hums when I look at Adam’s eyes.
    He suddenly walks forward, coming close enough to steal the breath right out of me. Words continue to evade me, which is probably for the best. Nothing’s coming out right anyway. And frankly, I’d rather stand here in silence than have him tell me to leave.
    Adam clenches his fists at his sides and takes a sharp breath. His voice is low, with a pleading edge that doesn’t match his hard expression. “I have work to do, Chloe.”
    “Adam, please.” I reach for him instinctively, my fingers wrapping around the bare flesh of his wrist.
    The memory rocks through me like a shock wave. Quick and powerful.
    I see leaves. A red-gold carpet of them litters my lawn. My rake pushes them into piles, baring trails of green grass and the crisp, unmistakable smell of autumn in the air.
    Beside me, Adam looks up from his own rake. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”
    I roll my eyes. “You’re the one who kept me up until three in the morning for, what was it? Eight Halo rematches last night? Remind me again how many of those you won?”
    Instead of replying, Adam tosses his rake and lunges for me.
    I feel his hands on my waist and laughter bubbling out of me as he hauls me into the air and then tosses me into the pile. Leaves crunch beneath me as I laugh, pulling at his feet and knees until I bring him down beside me.
    I smell the sweetness of October all around me as we lie there side by side, laughing until my cheeks ache with it. Adam rolls on his side to face me. His eyes are so blue I feel myself getting lost in them. I know I’m staring and I know it’s obvious, and somehow it’s so ridiculous that it only makes me laugh more.
    My shoulders are shaking and I should stop, but it’s just so crazy. Then Adam reaches for my face, and there’s nothing funny about it.
    His eyes go soft, and my insides curl like ribbons on a gift. I feel the ghost of his fingers on my hair. It only leaves me aching for more.
    “I shouldn’t even be here, you know,” he says softly.
    “I know,” I say. But when he moves to leave, I take his hand. And he lets me.
    “What’s going on, Chloe?”
    I jump away from Adam at the sound of Blake’s voice. And there we are, Blake staring at me, Adam staring at Blake, and me staring at the wall, cheeks burning like someone lit them on fire.
    “Chloe?” Blake prompts again.
    “I called her a bitch,” Adam says, with a shrug that says I’m making a big deal out of nothing.
    Blake and I both look at him—me in shock, Blake with disbelief. Adam just crosses his long arms across his middle again and tries to look bored.
    “You called her a bitch,” Blake says.
    Okay, I’m not sure what Blake’s trying for, but if it’s anger, he’s missing the mark. Like way missing it, because if anything, he sounds amused. And maybe he is. I don’t even care. All I care about is getting out of here. Like, now.
    “Okay, I’ll bite,” Blake says, giving an exaggerated shrug.