Four Day Fling(74)

I grabbed a stuffed bear from the dresser and tossed it at his head. “Shut your mouth.” I left the room to the sound of his laughter.

I hated that I liked the sound.

Damn him.

I cleaned up in the bathroom and darted back into my room. Adam was lying on the bed on his back, one leg out of the covers, one arm resting on the pillow over his head.

I threw a towel at him. “I guess you’re staying.”

He moved the towel beneath the sheets to clean himself. “Are you protesting?”

No.

“No,” I said, flicking off the main light. “I was just saying.”

“Isn’t it early to go to sleep?”

I pawed at the nightstand for the remote and turned on my TV. It immediately produced Netflix. “How do you feel about serial killers?” I asked, rolling over to curl into his side.

“You know,” he said, “Pretty damn good.”

***

I wandered out of the bedroom to Avery sitting at the dining table and Adam at the stove. Avery was eating, her Kindle in one hand and a fork in the other.

Adam was cooking, humming to the playlist that was quietly beating from Avery’s laptop in the living room.

“This is cozy,” I muttered, going to the fridge.

Avery grunted, nose in a book.

Adam grabbed me, pulling me to him. “Morning, Red.” His greeting was punctuated with a kiss to my lips. “How you doin’?”

I raised my eyebrows.

“We watched Friends while you slept,” Avery added.

“Did I wake up in an alternate universe?” I asked, looking between them both. “Are you friends?”

Adam shrugged. “Sure. She’s a decent girl. Why wouldn’t we be?”

“She’s decent? What is she? A pair of jeans?”

“Oh!” Avery snapped her fingers. “If I were, I’d be the pair that hugged your ass like a Care Bear.”

I stared at her. “I need new friends.”

She laughed as I turned to the coffee machine. Had I stepped into an alternate universe? Why the hell did this all feel so fucking normal? Why was Adam cooking Avery omelets while she read her latest book? Why was I so confused?

Was this my life?

Why didn’t I know what was going on?

I sat at the table with my coffee mug. Adam presented me with a perfectly cooked omelet a-la our first morning together, and I stared at it.

I was so confused.

What was happening here?

Why would nobody tell me?

Adam kissed my cheek. “There you go. I have to get to training. Sorry Avery got hers first, but she was awake.” He kissed the top of my head and walked to Avery before flicking her hair. “Thanks for the advice, Aves.”

Aves?

Advice?

Had I slept through the fucking apocalypse?

I sat, dumbfounded, as Adam retreated into my room. Avery ignored me as she ate and read her books.

“Am I missing something?” I asked her.

Avery looked up at me. “I don’t know. Are you?”

“I’m asking you, dumbass.”

“Are you pissed he made me breakfast before you?”

“What? No.” I stabbed my fork into the omelet. “At least, no. No.”

“No biggie, then.” She scooped another forkful of omelet into her mouth as Adam left my room.

He was wearing exactly what he had been last night. The shirt, the pants, the stubble…

I was still half-asleep. I was in the point of consciousness where nothing made sense. I could feel the sleep in my eyes for the love of fucking God.

Adam rounded the table to me. His hand cupped the back of my neck, and he kissed me. “Hey,” he murmured. “I have a wedding to go to and I need a date. Call me.”

I blinked at him as he left.

Avery watched the door shut and snorted her omelet across the table.

“Yum.” I pushed mine away.

She laughed. “You don’t get it, do you?”

I stared at her.

“He doesn’t have a fucking wedding. He’s playing you at your game. It’s fun.”

“You know, for my best friend, you take a lot of pleasure in my pain.”

Aves shrugged, putting her plate in the sink. “Only when you’re dumb about it.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX – POPPY


Truth and Tru Dat

I stared at my phone. It’d buzzed three times with Adam’s name. I’d ignored it until now, but I finally gave in.



Adam: What’s your zodiac sign?

Adam: When’s your birthday?

Adam: What would you rate yourself out of ten on blow jobs?



I laughed and tossed my phone.

Fucking hell. We’d reached a new low. I wasn’t going to reply to that. He was trying to push me into doing it. I wouldn’t give in.

No. No, sir. No, madam. No.

Avery glanced at me. “Adam?”

“No.” I went back to painting. I was so close to finishing the poppy. It was nothing more than details and accents.

I wanted to sit here in my corner, ignoring his texts, so I could add the last of my poppy seeds to the image.

“Ohhh-kay,” Avery said. “I’m going to work.”