Page 58 of Never Till Now

I yelp as he flips me on my back, making the cold latte worth it.

“Okay, so I dip the chicken in the egg before the flour?” I ask, staring at the multiple food stations laid out on Adam’s kitchen island.

“Eggsactly.” Adam shoots me a cheesy grin and I roll my eyes. “I promise, this fried sesame chicken bowl will be the best you have ever had.”

“You’re the best I’ve ever had.” I should have asked for another orgasm instead of how to make my own takeout.

“Who’s the cheeseball now?” He winks as I continue to dredge the chicken chunks.

I’m mesmerized watching the veins in his forearm as he chops the vegetables in perfect even chunks. He hums along to the music, and I appreciate the flex of his abs when he lifts the giant wooden cutting board to scrape food into a bowl. My hands are covered in flour and egg as I try to brush a strand of hair out of my mouth using the top of my wrist. My messy bun flops about, gathering Adam’s attention.

“Look at you, my little sous-chef.” Adam’s fingers brush behind my ear as he fixes the loose strand. “You’ll want to use a little less egg.” His hands slide down my arms, turning me to face the counter. “Keep the batter thin so it doesn’t clump.” My breath hitches, feeling his hit my neck as his hands hold mine, helping get the right amount.

This basic task should not be as much of a turn-on as my body makes it out to be. There is something intimate about his actions that makes my stomach flutter. For once, I don’t mind. I like how close he is to me. I like that he’s having this effect on me. There is nothing sexual about raw chicken and eggs, yet my body ignites as he holds my hands to complete the task.

The music shifts to an upbeat rhythm. Adam shakes the batter off his hands and rests them on my hips as we start to sway. I can’t fight the giggle at how corny this all is. He moves his hand to my stomach as the other extends my arm out.

“Ah! Batter is dripping everywhere.” I laugh and shake my head.

“Who cares.” He laughs and spins me around to face him, keeping our dance flowing. “We can’t let a good song go to waste, Blondie.” I fall back into a dip, wrapping my battered hands around his neck.

“Well, Charmer, you’re a spectacular dancer.” I feel light and a wave of elation washes over me as I determine to remember this moment.

His finger boops my nose as I scrunch my face, feeling the batter cling to it. “My mother made us take dance lessons for one year in high school. This is as good as it gets.” He laughs, then bends to grab my hips and extends his arms, lifting me in the air.

My hands reach out to his shoulders for support as I let out a squeal. His arms are fully extended as he holds me above his head and spins. “Adam,” I manage to say between laughs. “Put me down!”

“I want a turn!” A little voice comes from the side and startles us.

Adam lowers me down and both our faces flush. Mallory and James stand by the kitchen island, anticipating their turns as Kelsie and Max share a look I can’t quite read. Knowing I look too exposed in panties and Adam’s T-shirt, I want to run. His shirt thankfully covers my bum, but my height is all legs. I open my mouth and lift my hands to explain as if caught like red-handed teenagers. The batter flakes off my hand and falls to the floor as my eyes follow. Adam ignores his niece and nephew and turns to his sister.

“Why didn’t you knock?” Adam’s face flushes for the first time.

“Sorry, you said you’d be around all day and to stop by later.” Kelsie shrugs. “The kids wanted to say goodbye to you before we take them to the activity festival in Golden Gate Park.”

“I’m going to go—” In need of leggings and a hand wash, I point to Adam’s room without finishing my sentence.

The weight of Adam’s hoodie comforts me like a warm hug. I slip into my leggings and take a few deep breaths. What his family had walked into was too personal. That moment alone made me feel more exposed than my bare legs. I grab a shirt for Adam on the way out of his room and toss it to him as I walk back into the kitchen. Adam and Max both have their arms crossed in deep conversation by the window. Kelsie hands her kids a few fresh-cut veggies from our bowl.

“Sorry again for just showing up.” Her brown eyes are apologetic. “We knocked but Mallory barged through the unlocked door when she heard music.”

“You’re his family. No apologies needed.” I shrug. “We didn’t hear the knock.”

“Well, I have to keep in mind that Adam has you over sometimes.” Her eyes glance toward her children within earshot. “The last thing I need is for Mallory, or myself, to walk into you guys forking.”

“That is not a conversation I’d want to have with a child.” I laugh, feeling a jitter through my hands.

“Relax.” She places a hand on mine and for once, the contact doesn’t make me flinch. “If I was young, hot and could take advantage of the single life again, I’d be living it up too.” I don’t miss how her eyes sway to Max as she speaks. “But I’m now a single parent who has two little minions relying on me.”

“They’re cute though.” I smile.

“I wouldn’t change a thing.” Kelsie looks at Mallory who fails to secretly eavesdrop. “My kids are the best thing in my world.” Mallory’s eyes soften with contentment before running over to Adam. “Their father hasn’t always been present, so I think that’s why the kids are handling his absence well.”

“At least they have your family giving them plenty of attention and love.”

Mallory’s laugh fills the room as Adam picks her up above his head like he spun me. Max bends down and lifts James. Part of my ice wall melts when I didn’t think it was possible. Watching them warms my body, but it aches with the absence of my inner child, never experiencing that type of love. Their family love presents itself as something you lean into. Their love presents itself from the day of conception to be nourished and taken care of. Their love presents itself in a way that would gut you completely and torture you to lose. Except in death, your pain ends. With love, it gnaws at you internally until your life on earth expires.

To me, a glimpse of love presented itself in the form of an adult finally cleaning your clothes that started to smell. A glimpse of love was an adult letting you stay at their house in return for money from the state. A glimpse of love was being thankful I wasn’t out on the street. I never knew what being loved was.