First and Only Read online

  “And putting on war paint all the time…”

  “Yes… and that.” His teeth catch my eyes. They’re bright white and perfectly straight, just like always. That’s one thing I’ve always loved staring at with him.

  “So, do you work here?” he asks, taking another slug of his drink.

  “No. I help out the owner once in a while. I work as a writer for Birdie Publishing, and I write articles for the local newspaper and some blogs.” I take a seat on my stool, sipping my beer as I feel Adam’s eyes drowning me.

  “Now, it’s your turn to tell me some of your story.”

  I take a long swig of my beer before I dig in. “Well, the University of Michigan was fun for undergrad, but after I graduated a couple years later with my Master’s degree in creative writing, I was excited to leave Ann Arbor. College life was entertaining, though—small town but big school filled with intense football fever, crazy frat parties, and the usual boy drama.”

  “Then you moved to Chicago? Why?”

  We shouldn’t be having this conversation, I think. We should’ve never lost contact for all those years. It’s not like I have Facebook or any other social media to keep in touch with everyone. I gave those rights up long ago, when I was in high school and kids were just on there to start arguments and drama with people. I don’t want people knowing all my business. But it would have been a nice tool to keep in touch with Adam and other friends and family, though.

  “I don’t know. It was spontaneous. I was watching a TV show based in Chicago. Have you seen The Good Wife?” He nods. “Well, the city life looked fun and adventurous. College had sucked all the fun out of me. I was always busy with school work. Yes, I partied sometimes, but I needed a huge change. That’s why I moved here, and I fell in love with the place. There is so much to see here. The city is beautiful, with the tall buildings and great architecture. All along Riverside Drive are huge parks where everyone goes to relax, watch sports, bike, and jog. Michigan Avenue has amazing stores for retail therapy. There’s really a lot of opportunity here.”

  “How’d you get signed by a publishing company?” he asks, his eyes never leaving mine. “I bet you got a nice fat bonus for that. Well, that’s what I hear.”

  I nod, indeed I did. Birdie Publishing gave me a generous bonus to keep me on my feet. How else would I be able to pay my bills? “Yes, they sure did. I sent a manuscript in to them. They loved it and signed me right away. Then, before it could even get published, the editor got a better job in Oregon and quit. The new editor had to go over my work again, and, well, she hated it. She thought I’d written a romance book without the romance.”

  A sad look crosses Adam’s face and he scowls. “Oh, damn. That’s not good.”

  “I had a contract with them for two books. And the editor, Barbara, decided she didn’t want this book to be included, because it was horrible, so, now here I am, trying to write a new book that will appeal to my editor.”

  “Isn’t it up to the owner whose books get published? Why does the editor have the say?”

  “Well, because the owner, Birdie, is never around to run the company. She’s always taking these wild jobs in different countries, like work dealing with zoology and wildlife. The editor runs the place nowadays, so, in the end, it’s up to the editor.”

  There’s a moment of silence between us. It’s brief, but it gives me a few minutes to realize that Adam Wilson is really here in Chicago, sitting at my neighborhood bar, and having a drink with me.

  “I can’t believe it. It’s been so long, Mandi.”

  “I know.” I used to be in love with you. It was the first and only time I was ever in love with anyone. “Where are you working nowadays?”

  “I’m a professional boxer.”

  I just about choke on my beer. “Professional boxer? How do you go from wrestling to boxing? Aren’t they completely different sports?”

  “Yes, they are two different types of combat sports. In boxing, you can only throw punches, and with wrestling, as you know from watching all those matches back in high school, you basically tackle your opponent to the ground.”

  “How did you switch from one to the other? I don’t understand. You were amazing at wrestling. I remember always watching your matches… and always watching you win.”

  “Eddie, my boxing coach, suggested it. I had won a big college wrestling match.” He looks at me and smirks, knowing exactly what I’m thinking. Of course he won. “He took me aside and asked me if I’d ever thought about getting into boxing. I actually laughed in his face. I thought he was kidding, considering he’d never seen me throw a punch. Don’t get me wrong—I could throw a damn good punch, but he didn’t know that. He’d only seen me on the ground, pinning dudes to the floor. But he said he saw something in me, something that could take my career to the next level. Eddie thought my footwork was fast and impeccable—his words, not mine. You knew I had the upper body strength of a boxer.”

  “That’s amazing. What college did you go to again?” My memory isn’t the best sometimes.

  “Ohio State.”

  “Oh, yes! I remember now.”

  “You don’t remember our late-night talks about us being so far away from each other?”

  I nod. “I do remember now. It’s all starting to come back to me. We said we would never lose contact, and we immediately did.”

  Adam sips his drink, shame clouding his face. “I regret that. I dropped out of college, anyway. I started to pursue my boxing career. I travel all over the place these days. I’m undefeated right now.”

  I look at him, mesmerized. Back in high school, I used to go to his fights with Clarissa. We would travel by bus or train to see him. Clarissa never really paid attention. She was always too busy flirting with the older men around her. But, me, I was always cheering Adam on.

  “That’s really great, Adam.”

  His dimples appear on his face. He’s exactly the way I remember him. “How’s Clarissa? You two still talk?”

  “Clarissa lives in Italy now. She calls me when it’s convenient for her.” We both laugh. She’s always been self-involved—only caring about herself and doing things on her own time.

  “Hasn’t she always?” he whispers then takes a sip of his drink.

  “Still friends with James?” Even though things ended smoothly with the two of us, we never kept in contact.

  Adam looks at me and raises his eyebrow. “James who?” Laughter fills his voice. “I don’t talk to him anymore.”

  “Why not? You both used to be attached at the hip.” I smirk.

  “After high school, we both went our separate ways. He got involved in drugs and the party scene. I wanted no part of that.” Adam runs his fingers through his short curly hair, making the muscles on his arms dance.

  “Drugs? That doesn’t surprise me.”

  “I always knew we were the good ones.” We both burst into a symphony of laughter. Hearing that sound brings a fluttering sensation to my stomach, reminding me of the old high school days.

  The rest of the night we sit there and laugh, talking about everything and anything. I had forgotten how easy it is to talk to Adam and how sexy he is when his dimples appear. We talk about our new favorite movies, his favorite boxers of all time, places we visited, and our family.

  “Dear John… I’m a hopeless romantic I can’t help it.”

  “Why did I know you would say something like Dear John is your favorite movie? Where’s the love for action?”

  “Okay, Mr. Movie Buff, let’s hear it.”

  “Rocky…”

  I scrunch my nose at his answer. “Seriously? That’s so obvious.”

  “My coach reminds me of Rocky.” Adam polishes off his drink, his face reddening from the strong spirit.

  “I must meet him then.”

  “Best place you have visited?” Adam continues the conversation lightly. His enthusiasm is endless, and yes, he must be drunk by now.

  I rub my hands together, thinking of all the
places I’ve visited in the last ten years. “Toronto, Canada. My friend, Karen, forced me to go on vacation with her. We visited everything from the CN Tower, which is an iconic tower with a revolving restaurant inside, to the Hockey Hall of Fame, the Ripley’s Aquarium of Canada, and the Toronto Islands. It’s something I will never forget. What about you?”

  “I would have to say it was my trip to South Korea with my assistant trainer, Prince. He’s a big snowboarding buff. That man can live on those slopes. And the food is to die for!”

  Mickey interrupts us. “Closing in seven minutes.”

  I check the time. “It’s almost midnight.” I pay for my drinks and leave Mickey a good tip.

  “Is it really? Shit. I’m going to have to get a hotel room. I can’t wake up my mom this late.” Adam throws cash on the bar and slides on his jacket.

  I hesitate. “Adam, you can sleep on my couch. I’m sure my fur babies would love some company.” I smile, causing him to smile.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. It’s the least I can do for talking your ear off all night.”

  Adam grabs my sweatshirt and hands it to me. “After you.”

  ***

  Adam and I turn onto Erie Street, walking past a majestic Victorian home. That’s the kind of house I want to live in someday. Leaves blow wildly around and past us. The night is blowsy, which is normal for Chicago. Bright lights shimmer in the distance. A tall oak shakes in the wind, its branches making crackling sounds. I stumble into my apartment in a new four-story building that is dwarfed on Erie Street by seven- and nine-story towers all around. Instantly, my cats are at my feet purring and wanting love. I give them attention, trying to balance myself from falling over. I think I had one too many beers tonight.

  “So this is where the famous Mandi Gale lives.” Adam has always been full of jokes and wise-ass remarks.

  “This is it.” I snag some blankets and pillows from the living room closet, unfold them, and make his bed on the couch. “Here’s the remote. The bathroom is that way.” I point.

  “Are you going to sleep already?” he asks, surprised and looking a little drunk himself.

  “Yes, I have to. I think I drank too much tonight.” I laugh.

  “Well, thank you for letting me stay here.” He takes his shoes off, making himself comfortable on the couch.

  “It’s no problem at all. You can stay as long as you need.”

  CHAPTER 2

  THE MORNING SUN SHINES BRIGHT through my bedroom, smacking me right in my face. I squint open my eyes. Man, I was drunk last night. That’s a first. I never do that. I rub my eyes. What time is it?

  I check the clock. It’s only nine in the morning.

  Adam.

  I sit up quickly. Adam Wilson is in my house… sleeping on my couch. Was I dreaming last night? I haven’t seen him in ten years, and he suddenly pops up into my life.

  I throw my head back down onto the pillow. My secret high school love is in Chicago. I spent the night talking with him. This is blowing my mind right now. Should I go out there? What if he’s sleeping? I can’t barge out of my bedroom and wake him up, even though it is my apartment. Am I really too nervous to get out of bed?

  Screw it.

  I push the blankets off me and look at myself in the mirror. Oh, no! I look like a hot mess. I can’t let him see me like this. I put on some makeup and fix my rat nest of hair.

  I take a deep breath, gently open my bedroom door, and peek out. Where is he? I walk into the living room. All the blankets he used last night are now folded in a neat pile.

  I check the kitchen. He’s not there. I check the bathroom. He’s not there. Did he leave without saying goodbye? Without leaving a note?

  The front door opens. I exit the bathroom and try to calm myself down.

  “Good morning. I went to get breakfast. I hope you like bagels and coffee.” He balances a cardboard tray of cups on his muscular forearm, his white V-neck T-shirt hugging his masculine body over dark slim jeans. His skin is tan, which is enviable, especially this time of year; Adam has always loved working out and hiking outdoors. He passes me gracefully and sets down his purchases.

  “Thank you. I thought you left without saying goodbye.” I grab a cup of steamy coffee and enjoy a first sip.

  He looks at me with a funny look. “Mandi, I just got here. I could never do that.”

  I feel my face light up. I know I’m blushing at his words.

  “That’s nice. Thank you.”

  “It’s the least I can do. I hogged your couch last night.” We sit in silence for a few minutes. Finally, I click on the news as he asks, “What’s your day look like today?”

  I exhale. “I have to work on my book. It’s due in a month or so.”

  “What’s it about?”

  I laugh sarcastically. “That’s what I have to figure out.”

  “You can do it. You’ve always been creative.” He takes a sip of his drink and keeps his eyes focused on the TV.

  Is he trying to make my face turn scarlet?

  Suddenly, CNN bursts in with a new report on a terrorist group trying to take over.

  “And today from Istanbul, a market bombing killing forty people and injuring scores of others,” reports the newscaster. “ISIS is claiming responsibility and says no commercial areas are outside their reach, not even in the U.S.”

  I cringe every time I hear these stories, and today is no different.

  “This is terrifying to me,” I say.

  “Got to be terrifying over there, too. But then it ends up on our television and scares the shit out of Americans,” Adam says, getting worked up.

  “I agree. But I don’t know what we can do—pretend like it’s not happening?”

  “Would you like to come with me today?”

  That was random. “Where?”

  “My family reunion.”

  Coffee dribbles out the side of my mouth. He wants me to hang out with his family? I haven’t seen them in ages. “I don’t want to crash your family’s get together.”

  “It will be fun. There’s going to be the annual Wilson football game. My team always wins.” He laughs. “And plus, I’m not finished catching up with you yet.”

  “I don’t know…”

  “My mom will be ecstatic to see you. She has always liked you.” Mrs. W. was the best. She treated every one of Adam’s friends like her own child and always gave me advice with things I could never talk with my own mother about.

  I nod. “I would love to.”

  ***

  We pull up to the Wilson residence in Adam’s rental car. Cars line the driveway, so there must be a couple dozen family members there already. This is going to be one hell of a reunion. My palms are sweaty, leaving my hands trembling. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. Maybe because I’ve only met Adam’s parents and his siblings, not his cousins or other family members. I didn’t really spend much time with his father growing up, because he was always away on business. Mr. Wilson always worked super hard and provided well for his family but never missed a high school football game if Adam’s brother was playing and definitely cheered Adam on whenever he could make his wrestling matches. I always thought of Zeke Wilson as a generous man. Whenever I’d see him or stay for dinner, he always welcomed me into his home.

  I remember little Ivy. She was so cute, running around all the time, trying to be like the big kids. His older brothers were always gone, so I don’t remember much about them. They were jocks into sports hardcore.

  Adam takes my hand in his and we walk into the small two-story house.

  It’s as if I’m walking into a time machine. Mrs. Wilson’s house is decorated the same way it was when we were kids in Charleston—but in a totally different location now. The Wilson family isn’t rich. They don’t have fancy belongings or a six-bedroom mansion. Childhood pictures hang on the walls that I remember well. There’s even a group photo of me, Clarissa, James, and Adam. We must’ve been going to senior prom that night. We
did everything together, and too often back then I’d wished I was Adam’s date instead of James’.

  The first time I ever walked in the Wilson’s residence, I remember loving all those family memories. I spot a picture of Adam with his hand raised in the ring one day after he’d won a big championship. He’s become an undefeated light heavyweight boxer. Amazing.

  As I walk down the hall toward the party, I notice even the scent of the Wilson house is the same—like sugar cookies. Adam’s mom loves her scented candles.

  “Adam!” a voice yells.

  “Ivy.” Adam walks swiftly to his little sister’s side. She was a small little thing when I saw her last, but she’s grown into a beautiful young woman with brown hair almost all the way down her back and eyes as green as the shimmering grass in summer.

  “I’ve missed you!”

  “Me, too.”

  “Who’s this with you?” Ivy gestures toward me.

  Oh, no, I think. He invited me. I’m not trying to crash your family time.

  “Do you remember Mandi from high school?”

  Ivy’s eyes are like saucers. “Mandi Gale? How could I forget her?” She hugs me tight. It’s a lovely hug. I’m so happy she remembered me. “I’ve always told you you should have ended up with her and not that stuck up girl, Clarissa.”

  I blush and try to change the subject. “It’s been years. How are you nowadays?” I really hope the topic of conversation can go in a different direction—I would prefer things not be awkward right now.

  “I’m finishing up my art history degree so I can be a teacher. Thank God this is my last year.”

  “Wow. That’s cool. I think you’ll make a great teacher. You’ve always been such a people person and so creative.”

  We all move out of the corner of the living room and into the kitchen, where we stand around in a circle, talking.

  A guy rushes past us to hug Adam. “Little brother, it’s been too long.” Jack. I do remember him a little. He was the point guard on the West Ashley High School’s basketball team. His long blond hair covers his ear. Jack looks like Adam but older and taller.