Four Day Fling(25)

“Write a guide for teens on surviving those seven horrible years. You’ll make millions.”

I hit the button for the elevator and glanced over at him. “Noted. But I’m putting your name on it to make those millions.”

“Do I get royalties?”

“I’ll give you a blow job for every thousand dollars I make.”

“What if I ever get married?” Adam placed his hand on the side of the elevator opening so the doors wouldn’t shut.

Shrugging, I stepped into the mirrored box. “Then we’ll have to draw up a contract about this and your future wife will have to be in full agreement. If not, then you’ll have to take whatever the going rate is for a blow job.”

He leaned against the side, sticking his hands in his pockets. His lips quirked to the side. “Do you know what the going rate is?”

Blinking quickly, I did my best to look offended. “What are you trying to say, sir?”

“Nothing. It was merely a question. Nothing insinuated,” he said quickly.

I grinned. “Okay, first, stop panicking. It’ll take more than that offend me.”

“I wasn’t panicking.”

“Liar,” I said as the doors swooshed open. “I could smell your panic from here.”

“What are you? A wild animal?”

I glanced over my shoulder. “If you really want to find out, you can buy me tequila.”

His eyes flashed with something, and he placed his hand on the small of my back. “I’ll lose a little sanity for that,” he said, guiding me toward the main lobby.

Eyes were on us—on him—the second we stepped into it. I didn’t recognize the little boy who was staring at him like he’d just seen God in real life, but I knew exactly what was about to happen.

The little boy grabbed hold of his mom’s dress and tugged. She bent down, fussing at him, and he pointed in Adam’s direction. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, and I swear, I could feel his excitement.

He looked exactly how my nephew had the night before.

Adam hadn’t noticed. He was happy to guide me toward the door, and I dipped my head. Something tugged in my stomach—guilt, regret, just the general feeling of being wrong.

A glance to the side showed me why.

We’d walked right past him. Adam still had tunnel-vision to the main doors, and the little boy, while excited, stopped. Every step we took closer to the door meant his shoulders dropped a little more.

If that was my nephew, and I were the woman standing next to him, would I let them keep walking?

No. I’d go out on a limb and see if I could do something.

I faltered in my step, reaching my hand onto Adam’s chest to stop him.

“What’s up?” he asked, dipping his head.

“There’s a little boy over there,” I said softly. “He knows who you are. He wants to meet you.”

He slowly turned his head in the direction of the little boy who’d commanded my attention. Now, he was shyly hiding behind his mom’s leg, as if meeting his hero was too much for him.

“Poppy—”

I said nothing. I wriggled free of his hold and walked to the little guy. My eyes met his mom’s, and with a smile, I kneeled down in front of him. “Hey, buddy. Are you here for Rosie’s wedding?”

Clutching his mom’s dress tighter, he nodded.

“Wanna know a secret?”

Another nod.

“I’m Rosie’s sister. And that guy? That’s Adam West.”

“From da Stowms?” he whispered.

I leaned right into him. “Yes. Don’t tell anyone, okay? I’ll bring him over here if you promise to keep it secret.”

He nodded so enthusiastically I thought his head might fly off.

“What’s your name, buddy?”

“Adam,” he whispered.

Oh. My heart.

“Okay, hold on.” I pressed a finger to my lips and stood. My flip-flops thundered against the tiled floor as I crossed back to Adam.

“What are you doing?” Adult Adam whispered.

I linked my fingers through his. “You’re his hero,” I whispered right back.

“We’ll be late for lunch with your mom,” he reminded me.

“I don’t care. He needs you.” I dragged him across the floor to where Little Adam was standing, starstruck.

I mean, I kinda got it. I’d be the same if a naked Channing Tatum showed up in my bedroom, you know?

“Adam, this is Adam,” I said, releasing Adult Adam’s hand. “He’s a big fan of yours.”

Adult Adam dropped to his knees. “Hi there, Adam. That’s a great name. Did you know that?”

Little Adam nodded. “My dad said he named me after your dad.”

Eh?

“He has good taste,” Adult Adam replied. “Are you here to see Rosie and Marcus get married?”

The little one nodded again. “I love Uncle Marcus,” he said.

Ah. Clarification. Wonderful.

“Marcus’ sister-in-law,” Little Adam’s mom said, touching my arm. “Jerica.”

“Poppy. Rosie’s sister,” I replied softly, touching her hand.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Adam West is his Iron Man.”