Among the Echoes (Wrecked and Ruined #2.5)(18)

"I’m fine," I say as he closes the door behind me.

"Did he hit you?" he growls, and my head immediately snaps up to his.

"Dave? No way! I promise, Adam. He would never hurt me. You have the wrong idea about him. I swear."

"Well I’m not sure exactly what idea I should have. You’re terrified of everything and he came home wielding a gun. Sorry, that doesn’t exactly scream your normal, average life to me."

"He’s my family."

"So I’ve heard," he replies sarcastically, and I suddenly feel like coming over here was even worse of an idea than I’d originally thought.

"Well, okay then. Here, I took your tape. I wanted to return it and say thanks for putting up with me tonight, including right now. I won’t bother you again," I rush out and turn to bolt.

Before I make it even a step, he asks, "Why’d you put back in your contacts?"

"They’re prescription," I answer with my practiced lie.

"You didn’t wear glasses when we were watching the movie earlier," he quickly responds with apparent disbelief and a surprising amount of attitude.

"What is this, an inquisition?" I snap back at him. "My glasses are broken. You don’t have to be a dick."

He sucks in a breath before running a hand through his hair. "I’m worried about you," he admits, catching me off guard.

"You don’t even know me."

"Which is what makes being worried about you difficult and ridiculous."

"Why do you care?" I inquire when curiosity gets the best of me.

"I told you. You remind me of someone I used to know." He lifts a single muscular arm and grabs the back of his neck. I can’t help but watch the way his bicep flexes.

"Really. I’m okay. I get a little out of sorts when he goes out of town. I’m sorry he almost shot you," I say in all seriousness, but even I can hear how silly and inadequate that apology sounds.

He begins to laugh, and I smile up at him through my lashes.

"Well if that’s how we are doing this…I’m sorry I almost killed him."

"Apology accepted." I finally look up and his smile fades.

"You should really get clear contacts." His eyes flash back and forth over mine as if he is searching for a glimpse of the true color. An unexpected flutter tingles in my stomach, forcing my eyes to the ground.

"Yeah. Anyway…" I try to change the subject. "Here’s your tape." I reach out to hand it to him, but he doesn’t immediately take it. He stands staring at my outstretched arm.

"So not only are you my weird neighbor who forces me to watch ‘80s movies and gets me into life-threatening situations, but you’re also a thief? I know that tape was in the bottom of my bag." He lifts a questioning eyebrow and crosses his thick arms over his chest. He looks pissed, but the twitch in the corner of his mouth gives him away.

"Something like that. I was trying to find some gauze."

"In my bag?"

"Okay fine. I was being a nosy woman and trying to figure out what your deal is," I rush out, embarrassed.

"And did you?" His friendly tone disappears completely.

"No."

"Our good friend Dave didn’t fill you in?"

"Huh?" How does he know that Dave looked into him? We stare at each other, both of us just as confused as the other. "Well, Adam, this was fun," I say awkwardly. "I should go. I just wanted to say thanks for tonight, and I’m sorry about everything—including stealing your tape."

I turn and head for the door when I hear him ask from behind me, "What’s your last name?"

I freeze for a moment, knowing how I want to answer, but instead, I say, "Peterson. Yours?" I question.

"Andrews."

I turn back to face him with a true smile. "Adam Andrews is quite the mouthful. I like the alliteration though."

"Yep," he answers without emotion, and it appears he's lost in thought.

"Okay, well…I’ll see you around."

"Yep," he repeats while staring blankly over my shoulder.

Without another glance, I open the door and head back to my apartment.

No sooner than I walk in does Dave start in with the questions.

"How’d it go?"

"Weird," I answer, perplexed.

"Weird good? Or weird bad?"

"Weird weird," I respond, heading to my room.

I need some sleep and a whole new day. Unfortunately for me, I’ll only be getting one of those tonight. Even if my alarm weren’t scheduled to go off in approximately one hour, there is no way my mind would allow me to fall asleep tonight. Not when there is obsessing to be done. And I have a full twenty-four hours’ worth of things to obsess about—all of which start and end with muscles and golden-brown eyes.





"Wake up, sunshine!" I hear from the other side of my front door, quickly followed by a loud knock.

I pry my eyes open and notice that it’s well past noon. Jesus, I can’t remember the last time I slept this late, though there were a lot of firsts for me last night.

"Oh, Mr. Andrews?" he calls and it sends me rushing toward the door before the * on the other side has a chance to repeat it.