Part 19 (2/2)
I return his smirk and look back at the building. ”C'mon. I'll race you.”
I have no hope of outrunning Adam, but lucky for me, he has no interest in winning. He follows me through the bare floors, around support beams, and up a flight of cement steps. The second level is just like the first, floors and beams, but there's open air above us. I tip back my head, gazing at the crisscross of the beams in the waning sunlight.
There's something about this place or maybe just about Adam that makes me buzz with energy. I feel like anything is possible. I pace around while Adam checks something on the other side of the floor. I can almost hear his mind working, gears and chains clicking as he runs his thumb along a concrete ledge.
I watch him from a distance, touching poles and scuffing my sneakers on the floor. And then, on a whim, I decide I want to go higher.
It's easier than I thought it would be. I find footholds and corners, and before I know it, I'm another floor up. And then another.
The wind whips through my hair, making my eyes water as I stare out over the roll of unfamiliar neighborhoods and houses. The beam in front of me is ice-cold, but I hold it anyway, terrified and exhilarated.
I laugh, despite myself, and then I hear Adam approaching behind me. I squeeze the steel in front of me even tighter as his arms wrap around my waist from behind.
”You weren't supposed to climb up the beam work,” he says into my hair.
I shrug. ”I've always been a monkey. Mom says I crawled out of my crib on my first birthday.”
”I can see that about you,” he says.
G.o.d, he smells good. And he's so warm. I'm pretty sure this is what heaven would be like. If I could choose everything about heaven.
”So what is this place?” I ask.
”The county's new government offices,” he says. ”Or that's what it will be next spring when they finish it up. Simple design, but they've got an incredible arch planned for the entry. You can see the structure of it there.” He points down to a section way too close to the ground for me to want to focus on.
”Have you seen planning pictures or something?”
”I saw blueprints,” he says. ”They're better.”
”Architect p.o.r.n,” I muse, and he murmurs affirmatively before resting his chin on my shoulder.
My smile just keeps getting wider. I'm sure I look like a lunatic-wind-chapped and grinning like the Ches.h.i.+re cat. ”You're going to build stuff like this one day, aren't you?”
”I want to build stuff twice as beautiful as this,” he says.
I turn around in his arms, careful to keep my feet on the beam before I steady my hands on his waist.
He lifts his brows at me. ”You are a fearless little thing.”
”I used to be.”
”Used to be? Not very many people would climb up here. Not sure I would have if I wasn't coming after you.”
”I'm not afraid of things like this,” I say, and then I sigh and tilt my head. ”But whoever did this to me...I'm scared of them.”
He leans in, kissing me once, long and soft and deep enough that I almost forget where I am. When he pulls pack, I wish I could just freeze everything about this moment so I could keep it with me.
”No one's going to hurt you, Chloe,” he says softly.
”You going to protect me?” I ask, leaning in to kiss the underside of his jaw.
He groans a little. ”As long as I make it off this building alive, I am.”
We climb down and settle into his car. There's nothing open, so we make do with gas station fare: a pack of Twinkies and two tall, steaming cups of coffee. Mine goes down like heaven without a single nauseous afterthought.
”I thought I'd never drink coffee again,” I say, cradling the paper cup to me like an old friend.
”I'm a bad influence.”
”Yeah, I'm glad you brought that up,” I say. ”You're supposed to be this bad boy, so what gives?”
”What gives?”
”Yeah, you're like...like Clark Kent.”
”Clark Kent?” He looks less than pleased at the comparison.
”Well, you did come to my rescue in the library.”
”Right, that.” He shrugs. ”I figured it'd be a good way to get around to kissing you.”
”Making me freeze to death while you studied for another hour after rescuing me? Interesting strategy.”
He smirks again, and I think I understand why girls go for the bad boy. Or at least, the guys who appear to be bad boys.
”I think it's all an act,” I say, licking Twinkie filling off my finger. ”This bad boy thing. You do it to pick up girls.”
”Is it working?” he asks, leaning closer.
”Jury's still out,” I say, but when he kisses the side of my neck, I'm pretty sure the verdict is in.
It's eight o'clock at night when the waitress drops off our pancake platters. I pour what must be a half gallon of syrup over the top, and Adam laughs.
For ten minutes, I pick at my food while I talk. Adam listens to me outline all of the weird things I've pieced together, from my missing Julien file right down to the mystery Daniel/Dr. Kirkpatrick phone call. I even mention the hypnosis research, though I still can't imagine how that would factor in.
I take a break to dig into my now lukewarm stack, and Adam leans back thoughtfully, his plate mostly clean.
”So how does it tie together? Did Dr. Kirkpatrick somehow hypnotize you into forgetting all about the last six months? Why?”
”I have no idea.”
Adam's brow furrows. ”I don't know, Chlo. She did relaxation stuff but nothing like what you're talking about. And I can't figure a motive. Something like this would destroy her career.”
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