The Man Who Never Lied

Adam is finally out of denial. He can't hide anymore.  He's totally in love with the most annoying, heart-warming, caring cowboy he's ever met: Blake Shelton.  Adam knows Blake is with Miranda and he's foolish to even think that Blake feels anything towards him but friendship, or even that, considering how Adam's treated him the last few days. Even so, Adam needs to tell Blake or else he feels as if he will explode.

Adam swallows his pride, at least as much as he can with his big ego, and when Blake asks him what's wrong with him, he takes the opportunity.

"Blake, look, I'm sorry. I never meant for this to happen, but I couldn't control it. And I know you won't like what I have to say because you're married, but I need to tell you."

Throughout Adam's rambling, Blake is looking increasingly worried.

"Adam, what's wrong? Who'd you kill? Did you get some poor girl pregnant?" Blake pauses before Adam's words sink in. "Wait, tell me you didn't do something with Miranda."

Adam can't even muster the energy to smile at what Blake just said, but really, Shelton, murder? Just because he writes songs about double homicide doesn't mean he would actually do it. That's what hired assassins are for. And now Adam can't believe his ADHD has taken control of his thoughts at a time like this. "No, none of that."

"Then what is it?" Blake looks somewhat relieved, now that the worst has been prevented. Adam mentally rolls his eyes. Little does Blake know, oblivious cowboy, but the worst is yet to come.

"I really don't know how to say this. I've been hiding it for some time now. And I know I've been acting weird the past few weeks. I love you. And I already know that you will never return my feelings because you have Miranda, and you two are hopelessly in love."

And with that, Adam turns and runs away. It's a struggle for him to drive home before he completely loses it. When he pulls up in his driveway, it's a relief. Now he can wallow in peace in his own self-deprecating pity. At least, until he opens his door to a zoo of men sprawled on his couches watching basketball.

"What. On. Earth. Are. You. Doing. In. My. House."

"You don't want us here?" James playfully asks, before he looks up, with the rest of the band, and sees Adam's face.

"What's wrong, Adam?" Mickey asks, completely serious.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing other than the fact that I just told Blake Shelton how I felt and ran away. Nothing at all."

It, surprisingly, is PJ, the one who has known Adam for the shortest amount of time, that gets over his shock first and comforts Adam. "Hey man, it's okay."

All of them are in shock, as they don't watch much of The Voice, being so busy themselves, and Adam has never said a thing about feelings for Blake around them. Sure, he's mentioned Blake multiple times, but it made sense with Blake being such a close friend that Adam saw every week.

"It'll get better," suggests Matt.

"No it won't. What do you think I've been doing the last year? Now get out of my house."

"We can't let you drink yourself into oblivion by yourself. Just tell someone what happened." James suggests.

"Fine. I just need something." Adam grabs a bottle of something from his alcohol cabinet, not even bothering to look at the label, and drinks deeply. "When I first met him on the show, we just clicked. We were friends. I knew he was with Miranda." Adam doesn't know why he insists on thinking about Miranda and torturing himself. He must truly have lost his mind. "Sometime this season or last season or whatever, I realized I was totally in love with the man. You know I don't put labels on myself, so I was fine with that." Adam pauses to take another swig from the bottle. "But it was killing me that I was in love with a married man, with a wonderful wife, that would never know. So me being me, when he asked me why I had been avoiding him this week, I told him. The truth. And then I ran." By the time Adam finishes the tale, he has reverted to his original "not falling apart" state. He curls up into James and tried to stifle the sobs coming out.