Helena | Adam

        I SPENT THE BETTER PART of my Sunday morning and afternoon slogging through my biomedical assignment while my sister marathoned Shameless on our second-hand TV.

        Flipping through numerous textbooks and handouts, I willed my brain to keep working, to keep focusing, but the words were blurring together, forming jumbled sentences. And when I realized that I couldn't remember anything I'd read in the last chapter, I exhaled loudly, my gaze flickering to where Emmy was sprawled out on the couch.

        "Are you getting hungry, Em?" I asked, twisting around and sitting cross-legged.

        "Mmm," my sister mumbled distractedly. 

        With a roll of my eyes and another exasperated sigh, I diverted my attention to my darkened laptop screen. I pressed a key, waking it up from sleep mode, and began trawling the Internet for something simple—easy and inexpensive—I could fix us for dinner. I'd always been a better baker than a cook, but after losing our parents four years ago, I had no choice but to learn a few recipes that weren't a total disaster. Thankfully, Emmy never complained about my lackluster culinary skills. 

        One Internet search led to another, and I found myself typing Adam Bauer into Google, saying goodbye to my self-control and, ultimately, my dignity. Unable to take my mind off him since our last conversation, it had required supreme mental effort not to look him up sooner. 

        My brow curved, surprised when the search words returned a plethora of results. Clicking on the first link—AB & Consultants—it brought up what I could only assume was the homepage of his company's website, alongside a long list of the services they provided. From analytics to marketing and sales, AB & Consultants specialized in finances and helping their clients improve their business turnover. 

        Feeling like I was nowhere near smart enough to understand half of the legal jargon, I briefly skimmed the company's web page and all of their listed credentials. Various images of the tall building and the big, fancy conference rooms were on a timed slideshow, showcasing that AB & Consultants were in the big leagues. Huh.

        Noticing the About tab, my finger hovered over the trackpad, and I pretended to mull it over and hesitate. 

        Who am I kidding?

        When the page finally refreshed, my mouth fell open. 

        Staring back at me was Adam Bauer, AKA Clark Kent reincarnate. I felt my insides heat up, realizing that the guy I'd been texting since Wednesday night was Adonis himself and not some prepubescent boy. I didn't know what I'd been expecting to find, but it definitely hadn't been... him. 

        I immediately recognized his sharp, angular features, too. Adam was the other guy from the photo on Finn's Facebook, standing beside his younger brother in front of the Statue of Liberty.

        It took a moment for me to register exactly what I was seeing. The dark, artfully styled hair. The stubble shading his chin and chiseled jaw. The tortoise shell glasses that framed his face perfectly. But it was those eyes—a beautiful golden brown with flecks of green—that made my heart trip and pick up its pace. 

        Saying he was gorgeous was the understatement of the century. 

        After wiping the drool from my keyboard, I scrolled down and discovered that the company was based in Portland, Maine, just under an hour from my small coastal town. It'd been founded by none other than the twenty-five-year-old entrepreneur back when I was still in high school. 

        Mousing over the back button, I scanned through the other Google search results, seeing the plethora of articles about Adam being nominated for Best Businessman in GQ. 

        It didn't take long for me to come to the conclusion that I was screwed. So fucking screwed. Not only was Adam Bauer funny and the first guy I'd enjoyed talking to in months, I knew for sure now that he was hot, rich, and successful, too. 

        I swallowed hard. 

        God help me. He was ticking all the right boxes.

        "Did you get a new phone or something?" Emmy's voice came from somewhere behind me and pulled my attention away from the laptop. 

        Trying not to panic, I looked over at her, absorbing my sister's curious expression and frown. "What?" I finally choked out.

        Emmy pointed down at the latest model iPhone, sitting on our kitchen counter. "I said, did you finally upgrade your phone?" 

        "No, it's, uh, just a friend's," I lied, not wanting to admit the truth. Not yet, anyway. My little sister was overprotective—not without reason—and acted more like an adult than me sometimes. 

        Lately, not so much, though.

        "Uh-huh," Emmy deadpanned, disbelief written all over her face. "Well, some guy just messaged your friend." She used air quotes over that last word, earning a scowl from me, and then she walked off, disappearing into the bathroom. 

        Suddenly too aware of what she'd just implied, I swung my feet down to the floor and hauled ass over to where I'd left Finn's phone charging. 

        A thick combination of doubt and hope twisted my insides.

        I picked the phone up, checking the screen. After four days of radio silence, there was a message from Adam, and the corner of my mouth lifted in a small smile.

I know it's been a few days, but I'm still allowed to text you, right? Or is this too weird?

        Why would it be weird? I shot off a reply, noticing his text was delivered hours ago. Between the episodes of Shameless and Ed Sheeran's new single that I couldn't stop listening to on repeat, it was safe to say I hadn't heard the loud chime. 

        Ten minutes later, Adam still hadn't responded. With a big bubble of disappointment climbing up my throat, I headed up the stairs and retreated into the quiet sanctuary of my bedroom.  

I'm speaking to this amazing girl through my estranged brother's phone, which she just happened to find on the train. That's like the definition of weird, isn't it?

Should we stop talking?

        I sat on the edge of my bed, processing his words carefully. It felt like years had passed since Wednesday night... like I'd known Adam forever, which was stupid. But it didn't seem to change the fact that I absolutely didn't want to stop feeling this way. To lose out on getting to know a guy I knew I may have never met otherwise.

        Of course, I was too chickenshit to say that.

I don't know. Do you want to stop?

        I held my breath, waiting for his answer while simultaneously saying a silent prayer. What if Adam told me he didn't want to talk to me anymore? Tough titties, I supposed. Still, the back of my throat burned at the idea.

        It was a moment before his response appeared on the screen. 

...No.

        Relief practically swamped me, the air seeping out of my lungs slowly. 

Me neither.

Well, that settles it, then.

        I peeked up at his earlier messages, re-reading a particular text that I hadn't forgotten about. In fact, it had kind of become my sole focus. 

You think I'm amazing?

I was wondering how long it'd take before you picked up on that.

Answer the question, Adam.

Yeah, I do.

        A faint blush crept into my cheeks at his admission, and I felt that familiar fluttering sensation filling my belly before I pushed it away. I wrestled with the urge to joke and make idle conversation to calm my nerves, to lighten the mood. For once, I surprised myself and chose honesty over a smart-ass remark. 

But you barely know me...

I'll rephrase that then. Everything I know about you so far, I like.

        I bit my lip in thought, trying to think of a casual response and coming up empty again. For a fleeting, ridiculous moment, I almost didn't type out, Should I text you my number? But my fingers had a mind of their own, tapping quickly at the screen.

I mean, this seems like the turning point in our friendship, doesn't it?

I own a phone, despite my claims to being broke. My connection to society and social media is the one thing I refuse to let go of. Besides, I don't really want to keep having to use Finn's phone in order to talk to you. That part is kind of weird.

Truth be told, I wanted to ask you for your number the other night but the stalker handbook said I should play it cool.

Pssh. Nobody reads those. If you're gonna be a stalker, you've just gotta commit.

Oh yeah?

Confession: I might have Googled you.

You're really something, Helena.

Why's that?

You're just so different to anyone I've ever spoken to before. Your honesty is refreshing. And when we're talking, I'm not thinking about work or family shit, which is a rare thing for me. This is... nice. 

        I grabbed my phone from my nightstand and powered it on. Clicking out of our conversation, I scanned Adam's information, punching his number into my phone and saving him as a contact. 

        Oh my God. We were really doing this. 

        A thrill rushed through me.

        Grateful not to have to use Finn's phone anymore, I drafted a new message to him and vowed not to make a big deal out of it.

Aw, Adam. Aren't you just a big softie.

In all seriousness, I know what you mean. My life's pretty complicated right now, but whenever I'm talking to you... well, it's easy to forget.

I know.

        I stared at those words for so long that time fell away. It was such a common answer, but there was something about seeing it in point size, sensing its permanence, that felt different. Or maybe it was because it was Adam. He seemed to understand more about me than I'd ever admitted.

Just saved you as a contact. Helena, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Are you quoting Casablanca right now?

Color me impressed. I wasn't sure you'd get the reference.

What can I say? I'm a bit of a movie buff.

        I was still smiling when the next message came through.

You still haven't told me what you found when you Googled me...

Really? You're not going to let me get away with that, are you?

Nope. So I'm assuming you've seen the company website?

It's possible.

Any thoughts?

It's a nice photo. You're definitely someone who can pull off glasses.

        I left out the part where Adam was the most attractive man I'd ever laid eyes on. It was hard for me to imagine that he was the guy I was texting, let alone the fact that he was choosing to talk to me when he was clearly busy running a company and pursuing business ventures in LA. Those pieces of knowledge made my pulse thunder in my ears.

I meant what do you think of the firm?

Oh. Um, yeah. I knew that. 

The photo of your building is very nice. Portland is cool. And traveling is cool, too. It sounds like you do a lot of that?

Thanks. Yeah, I'm only home for a week every few months. Sometimes less.

Wow, you weren't kidding.

Fun fact: I can't remember the last time I was in the same place for more than two weeks.

Still trying to work out if we think this is a good thing or a bad thing?

We think it's good. Well, mostly good.

Mostly?

Now that I'm talking to you, it doesn't feel much like a good thing anymore.