Page 10 of Wrecked

He kneels down in front of me, his face level with mine. I think he’s about to say something. Instead, he just looks at me. Really looks at me. His dark eyes pour over every inch of my face. Examining me, questioning me, appraising me. All with one stare. I’ve heard that you can tell if someone is lying just by watching their body language. You can listen to their breathing and track their eyes to see what they’re trying so desperately not to tell you.

He’s looking at me like that.

He’s looking at me like he’s trying to see my truth, decipher my lies, and learn if everything he’s ever thought about me is true, right or wrong, good or bad.

I inhale a shaky breath, convinced that this is it. He’s going to take me back to the holding room and chain me to the foot of Ohio’s most wanted.

Instead, he places his hand in his pocket and produces a key ring.

Gently lifting my cuffed wrist in his hand, Adam unlocks the metal, releasing me. He raises his other hand and places it on my wrist. When his fingers brush the tender skin, I suck in a sharp intake of air. He rubs his thumb over the red line where the cuff cut into me, and I no longer feel anything.

I am numb.

His face is still serious, but his eyes are softer now. “I’ll make a deal with you.”

My mouth opens, and my eyebrows rise. “Please.”

“I won’t charge you,” he says slowly as my eyes widen, “if you promise to do one hundred hours of community service.”

“Why do I have to do anything? I told you I’m innocent.”

“Take it or leave it, Leah. Harper has a report to write up. He wants you to go before a judge on Monday morning. This is a small town, which means I actually have some pull around here. I can help you but only if you play by my rules.”

I nod my head in understanding. I’m not in a position to argue. “This won’t affect me getting my license?”

“You’ll be on probation for six months. If you get in trouble, any trouble, in that time, then I’ll personally deliver you to the District Attorney.”

I swallow and breathe out. “I can do that. It’s only a hundred and eighty-two days.”

“You’re good at math.”

“I’m good at a lot of things.”

If I’m not mistaken, Adam’s breathing jumps when I say that. No, I must have mistaken it because he quickly rises and steps away from me.

“My shift is over. I’ll bring you home. Take a seat on the front bench while I change.” He walks out of the room before I can say anything.

I take a calmative breath and then walk to the nearest restroom to clean up. I’m tired, and I can’t wait to get in my room and throw on a pair of pajamas.

Cleaned up and ready to go home, I take a seat on the bench and play with the frayed edges of my shorts while I wait for Adam. When he comes back, he’s no longer wearing the polyester nightmare. Now he’s in sweatpants and a form-fitting T-shirt, much more like the Adam I knew when I was a kid.

As he walks past, he hands me my purse that was taken from me when I arrived and nods his chin toward the door, letting me know to follow him. We walk to his personal vehicle, a pickup truck, and I climb into the passenger side.

When we’re on the road, I find myself glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. Then, I give myself permission to turn and take a better look. If I didn’t know him, I’d think he was a carefree guy with the way his long legs stretch out in the seat, his one arm on the wheel, the other hand on the gearshift. His hair is brushed back although slightly unkempt, as it should be after working a twelve-hour shift.

“You hot?” he asks.

I blink, trying to understand his question.

“No. I’m fine.” I run my hand through my hair and try to quell my nerves. I’m fidgety and unsure.

Men do not make me feel this way. Yet here I am, sitting next to Adam for the first time in seven years, and I can feel the electricity pulsing between us.

What is wrong with me? This is Adam. He’s an asshole. He has been one since he gave up his scholarship to UConn to stay home to be the town hallway patrol. Maybe it’s delirium from lack of sleep. Maybe it’s because he saved me tonight. Saved me from losing my bar, saved me from…

“Nico,” I say.

Adam’s head swivels to look at me.