Backseat Fantasies, Front Seat Promises

Claire felt the door thunk shut behind her as she slid into the passenger seat, the familiar stale-pine air freshener brushing her nose. Adam turned the key, the engine shivered awake, and the street outside Elaine's house blurred into streaks.

She was buzzed. Four-glasses-of-wine-buzzed. Not sloppy, but warm in the bones, in the breath, that weightless sway under her ribs. Spinny in the nicest way.

But oh God, she had to keep it together. One wrong word, one wrong smile, and she'd spill everything.

Adam didn't say anything at first. He gripped the wheel tight. Knuckles pale. His jaw worked, a little muscle twitch she knew like her own handwriting.

"You okay?" she asked, aiming for light, floating casual. She could hear the slight slur in the vowels. Just a hair.

He snorted once. "Am I okay?"

Right. So. Not okay.

Claire crossed her ankles primly, the picture of a dutiful fiancée. "You seem upset."

Adam exhaled, long and hard. "It was just weird, that's all."

She let silence stretch. It helped, sometimes. Also it gave her space to replay every second of Roy sitting next to her, like fate orchestrated the chair, the distance, the breath between them.

He had looked at her. That faint panic under his eyes. Adorable. Claire's mother prepping him must have shaken him good. Poor baby.

And then he'd blurted out the birthday thing.

Sweet, awkward, absolutely transparent.

He wanted to spend time with her.

He wanted her help.

He wanted her.

Her chest warmed all over again.

Adam finally said, "He just dropped into the middle of the conversation like a grenade. 'Your mother's birthday is coming up, I need it to be special.' Like—what? Where'd that come from?"

Claire swallowed her grin. "He's nervous about it. He's trying hard."

Adam flicked her a look. "Yeah, but then he asks you to go shopping with him? On Monday night?"

"Mmhmm." Claire fought the goofy smile trying to break free. She **** her lips flat, mature. Adult. Responsible-daughter-of-a-grieving-widow face.

"We were going to watch a movie Monday," Adam said. Hurt, pure and unhidden. "Remember?"

Her stomach dipped. A small pang. Not guilt so much as... administrative sorrow. Two calendars trying to overlap. "Shoot," she said softly. "I really did forget. Sorry."

Adam kept his eyes on the road. Streetlights slid across his profile like timed revelations. "It's not a big deal," he muttered. Which of course meant it was.

"Adam," she said, placing a careful hand on his forearm. "Mom is still grieving. Roy's new for her. I want it to go well. If I can help him pick something thoughtful, that's good for her, right? Makes her feel... I don't know... seen."

He didn't answer right away. She could feel him weighing it, deciding if she was right or if he was allowed to stay annoyed.

"And it's just a gift," she added gently. "We can watch something later in the week. We always do."

Adam finally nodded. Shoulders loosening. "Yeah. I guess that makes sense. I just didn't like how eager you were to agree to it."

Claire had to **** her laugh back down her throat. If only he knew how much self-control she had exhibited when he'd asked. If they'd been alone, she would have leapt into his arms with both feet and a fireworks finale.

Her boyfriend.

Her boyfriend!

And Adam none the wiser. Roy didn't seem to mind the secret; he was playing his part perfectly. Honouring it, even. Not blowing up her life. Not exposing anything.

And her mother... How did Claire get to be so lucky to have such an amazing mom? She was being so generous about sharing!

"We’re all adjusting," she murmured, as soothingly as she could.

Adjusting.

She couldn't wait for Monday night when she could do some adjusting with Roy alone. In a hotel room. Back at Roy's place. In the back of the car. Wherever they could find in the time they had.

Adam relaxed his grip on the wheel another notch. "Okay," he said again. "Just talk to me before you change plans next time."

"I will," she said. "Promise."

And she meant it... mostly. As long as her promises didn't interfere with more important things.

The car hummed. Houses slipped by. Claire leaned her head back, feeling the soft tilt of the world spin under her eyelids. In her mind she was already in tomorrow night. Picking out something cute to wear. Casual, but coy, like "Oh, did I accidentally dress adorably just for errands?" Maybe he'd finally relax enough to touch her hand. Or put his arm around her as they walked. Or bend her over the back of the couch, drop his pants, and show her how much he cares for her.

It was obvious why her mother had fallen for him so hard. Claire was falling too. Had fallen, really, long before she realized what it meant.

Roy was hers!

And Adam, sweet, wonderful Adam, the man she was going to marry, was none the wiser. Traffic, or work, or the weather had taken hold of the conversation coming from the driver's seat, but Claire could barely register it. Her heart was busy beating in two directions at once. She loved Adam. She genuinely did. He was going to make a perfect husband. Reliable. Smart. Kind. A good father to children she could already picture.

But he would never understand Roy. How could he? Claire wasn't stupid. She knew how unconventional her needs were, how Adam would feel if he were ever to find out. It would be painful, obviously, but it was worth the risk. Roy was part of her life in a way Adam could never replace.

And no man, no future, no plan, and no white dress were worth losing Roy over.

Someday maybe she'd have to choose. Maybe everything would blow up. But for now? She had Adam's steady hand on the wheel making her feel safe, and Roy's warm voice echoing in her head heating her up down below. The world was exactly how she wanted it.

"Claire?" Adam said softly.

"Mmhmm?"

"I love you."

She turned her head, smiled at him, meaning every word she gave back.

"I love you too."

And she did.

Truly.