Flawed Perfection (Beautifully Flawed, #1)

Chapter Forty Three

The drive back to Boston was spent in silence. I leaned my head against the cold pane of glass and watched the signs as they passed by knowing nothing would ever be the same. I knew some things were almost impossible to fix. The relationship I had with Mom was one of those things. In truth, it had never been that great. I always just agreed, held my tongue and was respectful to her attitude and opinions.

I closed my eyes.

As a child and even now as an adult, I wondered if she could love me for who I really was, and now— now I knew. No. My chest tightened with the thought, and then my mind went to Bobby. The thought strangled me, and I had to take a deep breath. Bobby knew. He knew how it was! Yet his own anger at his multiple losses had driven him to say something he'd regret forever.

Something I'd regret forever.

I looked over at Adam as he parked and placed his hands firmly on the steering wheel. His fingers paled with the pressure as his lips moved, air whishing out, but the words seemed to escape him. He squeezed his eyes as he released the steering wheel and scratched his chin.

Finally he spoke, "How do you feel about me living with you?"

Adam continued to look ahead, his eyes flashing over something in the distance.

For the first time in hours the pressure in my chest released. "You basically already do."

He turned to look at me, and his neck flushed up to his ears. "I don't want to push you when enough shit has happened."

I reached out, taking his chin in my hand and smiled. "Yes, Adam, I'd love it if you moved in with me."

"Are you sure?" he asked and his eyes closed again, his muscles relaxing against my touch.

"Look at me," I said, "Yes."

"I promise Bobby's the pig."

I rolled my eyes as I opened the car door. "I know," I replied. "I've smelled his room."

Adam chuckled as he came around the car and put his arm over my shoulders. "You might hate living with me."

I looked up at him, my body warming as I laughed. "You've never lived with a chick before. As far as I'm concerned it's more of an experiment for you than me."

Adam opened the door for me, cocking his head. "Did I miss a whole portion of your life where you lived with a guy?"

I narrowed my eyes at him before heading in.

"Guys don't hide their disgusting habits, girls do," I said, laughing as Adam froze mid-step.

"Disgusting habits?" he repeated, his face blank.

I winked at him and kept walking.

"Should I be worried?" Adam asked.

I shrugged. Adam shook his head as he open his apartment door.

"You wouldn't risk losing me to disgusting habits," Adam said as he went to the CD shelf and began to drag it across the floor.

The CDs rattled, threatening to topple off the shelf, and I reached forward as one did.

"Mest?" I asked as I looked at the signed case.

"What? I had a punk rock phase," he answered with a smile.

Despite the intensity of the situation we could still be happy with it being just us. I replaced the CD and grabbed the other end of the shelf.

"No point in ruining the hardwoods," I said as Adam smirked.

"Don't hurt yourself," he joked.

"I'm not that weak," I shot back. "You've seen my guns."

Adam blinked at me as we made our way across the hall shuffling the shelf with us. We placed it down, and I unlocked the door before picking up the shelf again.

"None of these are Bobby's?" I asked as Adam nodded to the wall next to the bedroom door.

"Nah," Adam breathed as we placed it down. "Bobby is more about hockey than music."

We both stared at each other for a moment at the thought of Bobby.

"You want to grab the dresser next?" Adam broke the silence with his hand stuck in his hair.

I nodded and followed him out. Within forty minutes there was literally nothing left in Bobby's apartment to indicate Adam ever lived there. He even grabbed his acidic-green-poor-taste-in-soda stockpile.

"This is it," Adam said as he placed the last guitar on its rack. His hand lingered on the neck of the Ibanez™ before he picked it back up and slipped the strap over his shoulder.

I sat on the edge of the bed as he began to play without an amplifier. The noise was tinny without the electric part hooked up but that didn't matter. Adam's fingers moved effortlessly from fret to fret as he strummed the guitar. His head nodded ever so slightly to the beat and his bare foot tapped the floor as he closed his eyes and a smile formed on his lips.

I stood and placed my hands around his neck, yet he continued to play, nod his head and tap his foot with eyes closed. The only change was on his lips as they crept into the seductive grin. I leaned into him, letting my hands comb through the hair on the back of his head as my breath washed over his lips.

Still nothing. The guitar continued to hum with his talent.

I let my lips hover over his, then let them wander over the soft skin of his neck and up the stubble of his chin. The beat remained smooth, undisturbed as the strings squealed and he deepened the riff.

I paused as my lips reached his again, lingering at the corner of his mouth where the cold metal of his lip ring teased me just as much as his fingers on the guitar. I let my mouth run over the metal until it caught in my teeth and I sucked it in.

Finally, his body reacted, tensing as he groaned—but his playing didn't cease, didn't change. He still resisted, hand strumming a tease over the strings next to the skin of my belly.

His mouth responded to mine as I let the ring and his lip slowly slip away from me. That was it— the guitar spun to his back and he yanked my hips to his own.

"I need you to play me like that guitar," I said, gasping as his hand tilted my head, and his tongue ran over my trembling neck.

His other hand drifted down my body.

"Good, because I wasn't done with my song," he growled into my ear.