Among the Echoes (Wrecked and Ruined #2.5)(20)

"Oh, and one more thing. This part really is kind of blackmail. Riley feels bad about involving you in all that mess last night, so she wants to cook you dinner at our place tonight."

"She doesn’t have to do that. She already said thank you."

"Yeah, but you know women. They think nothing says thanks like good food, and if you’ve ever tasted her fajitas, you would be inclined to agree."

"I can’t make it. Sorry," I say dismissively. If I’m going to forget about this whole damn rescue mission, I’m going to do it completely.

"Well, figure out how to make it. Riley is really excited. You do this one thing and we go back to being neighbors, Adam." He grins.

I take a deep breath and scrub a hand through my hair. I absolutely don’t want to go over there tonight, and I think he’s just f*cking with me about the blackmail part, but the idea of disappointing Riley is really what has me reconsidering. I can go, eat her food, pretend to be social, and then head home early. Maybe then I can really put all of this behind me.

"Sure, yeah. Whatever. What time?" I respond with an exaggerated sigh.

"Six. See ya then! Oh, and don’t let that coffee go to waste. I got it just the way you like—two cream, no sugar." I don’t even have a chance to ask before he answers my unspoken question. "I Googled you." He tosses me a wink and walks out the door.

Of course he did.





"Where are you?" Dave barks over the phone as I pull up in front of our apartment.

"I just got here. I had to stop at the grocery store to get the stuff to quell your sudden craving for fajitas," I smart back at him.

"Well I would have gone myself but you took the car to work, and I wouldn’t have had any clue what the hell you put in that delicious yellow rice."

"It comes in a box. You’ve watched me make it a million times." I laugh, dragging out the bags and heading up the sidewalk.

"Yeah, but don’t you put those little green and red peppers in the rice?"

"Nope, all in the box." I laugh again. "Hey, I’m outside. Can you get the door?" I ask before ending the phone call. He pulls open the door and I suck in a startled breath. "Jesus, you look horrible."

"Pretty burly, huh?" he replies, taking the groceries from my hands.

Using his chin for leverage, I inspect the various cuts and bruises Adam left on his face last night. "Come here. Let me clean that one over your eye again before I start cooking. I got butterfly bandages to hopefully keep it closed a little tighter than just the tape."

"I told you I was okay with a scar."

"Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t leave scars if I can help it."

"I’ll be fine. Besides, you need to get cooking." He looks down at his watch impatiently. "Did you get the stuff for guac too? You want me to get started on that?" he hurries out, causing me to give him a questioning look.

Dave hasn’t offered to help me in the kitchen since the early days. He sometimes cooks, but if I’m in the kitchen, he steers clear.

"You must be starving if you’re offering to help."

"I really am. So hurry up and get to cooking. It’s almost six."

"I know you are getting old, but is this a nursing home? Do we need to start eating dinner at, like, four these days?"

"No, six is more than acceptable." He flops down on the couch, propping up his feet on the coffee table and engrossing himself with whatever is on TV.

Fifteen minutes later, a knock at the door causes me to jump and my pulse to race. I spin around, and Dave must read my fear because he immediately shakes his head.

"I was expecting this one, Riley."

I let out a relieved sigh and watch as he confidently strolls to the door.

Just before he pulls it open, he looks back at me. "Promise you won’t poison my food. You know fajitas are my favorite."

I don’t even have a chance to ask what the hell he is talking about because he opens the door, revealing Adam Andrews standing in the hall.

"Hey," Adam says awkwardly.

"What’s up, man?" Dave replies, extending a hand.

Adam stares for a minute before taking it in a firm shake. "Hey, Riley." He offers me a quick nod.

"Uh. Hi," I stumble out.

"I wasn’t sure what to bring, so I brought some beer and wine and also some bandages and antiseptic for your face."

"Well aren’t you a gentleman," Dave says humorously, taking the bags from his hands and bringing them to the kitchen.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Adam rocks back and forth on his heels uncomfortably. I’ve never seen him actually dressed before. Every time I’ve had the pleasure of embarrassing myself in front of him, he’s been dressed in some combination of sweats. But tonight, he is wearing perfectly tattered, dark jeans with washed-out thighs and a navy-blue sweater over a white button-down. It stylishly clings to his every curved muscle. If Dave thought I needed a napkin last night to wipe away my drool, I probably need a super-absorbency mop tonight. Jesus, Adam is gorgeous.

"Dave, can you help me for a second? Adam, please make yourself at home. Can I get you something to drink?" I ask, faking the Suzy Homemaker bit, all the while dabbing at the corner of my mouth just to be sure nothing is actually leaking.