When I Was Yours(18)

And he looks even more gorgeous, if that’s possible. He’s wearing a pair of black board shorts, a red T-shirt, and flip-flops.

He even has nice feet. And I don’t like feet, especially men’s feet. They’re usually all hairy and gross.

But Adam? Well, he has nice feet. They’re all tan and sexy and not too hairy.

Oh God.

I lift my eyes back up his body to his face, my eyes meeting with his.

There’s a sexy smile on his lips.

He totally knows I was checking him out. And you know what? I don’t even care that I got caught.

He’s hot. It should be illegal not to stare at the man.

I grin at him, and that smile of his deepens.

And I melt into a puddle of goo.

“You need a hand with that?” He nods at the box weighing my arms down.

“Um, sure.”

He comes over, and I get a whiff of him. He smells like the ocean and sunscreen.

His hand brushes my arm as he takes the box from me, and I have to control the shiver it elicits in me.

“Where do you want it?”

“On the counter is fine. Thanks.”

I watch him walk over to the counter before putting the box down.

He’s here. I can’t believe he’s here.

Did he come here to see me?

I doubt it. I never told him I worked here.

But then he would have seen the logo on my shirt, if he were paying attention. And I get the impression that not much escapes Adam.

But I can’t see why he’d come here to see me, as he would have known I would be going to the beach later.

“So, what brings you to Grady’s?” I ask as he walks back over to me.

“You.”

Me? Me! My insides do a little happy dance.

“Me?” My voice has gone slightly high-pitched.

“Yeah.” He moves closer. So close, I have to tilt my head back to look up at him. “Also, I was out, getting a frame.”

“A frame?”

“Mmhmm. For the picture you drew for me.”

A swarm of butterflies start having a disco party in my stomach.

“You know, you should really let me pay you for it.”

“You like it?”

He stares at me for a long moment, so long that my mouth dries, and those butterflies flitter up my throat.

“Yeah, I do. I like it a lot.”

Holy God. I’m so done for.

The sound of Grady’s and Base’s voices coming from the back room snaps me out of it.

They both come to a stop when they see Adam and me. Maybe we’re standing closer than a customer and shop assistant should be.

No maybe about it, we are.

I take a small step back.

“Hey, man,” Grady says to him.

“Hey.” Adam gives him a nod.

“Our Evie Girl taking care of you?”

“Oh, yeah.” Adam’s eyes come back to me. “She’s looking after me just fine.”

I’m pretty sure my whole body is on fire. With lust. For him.

Dear God…

“So…” I clear my cluttered throat. “What are you looking for today?”

“An answer to my question.”

“Which question?”

He bridges that gap I just put between us and lowers his voice slightly as he says, “I asked you out yesterday, and you said you’d let me know today. I’m here to get my yes, so I can finally take you out on that date.”

Sweet baby Jesus.

I’m well aware that Grady and Base are still here, probably being a pair of nosy parkers and listening in.

“And what if I was going to say no?”

“Then, I’d keep asking until you changed your mind.”

That makes me smile. “Okay,” I say.

“Okay?”

“Yes.” I smile. “I’ll go out with you.”

“Now?”

I let out a laugh. “I can’t go out with you now. I’m working. But I get off at five—”

“She’s finished for the day.” Grady comes over, handing my bag to me.

“What?” I turn to him, taking the bag being pushed at me.

He has this huge grin on his face. “I think you deserve some time off.”

“But, Grady, the money. I need—”

“It’s covered, Evie. Just go out and be seventeen. Have some fun.”

I stare at him for a moment. “Okay. Thank you,” I say tentatively. “But I will make up the hours.”

He chuckles at me, shaking his head, as I start to move away, Adam with me.

“See ya, Base.” I wave at him.

“Later, Evie.”

I follow Adam through the store and out the door he holds open for me.

“So, you’re seventeen?” Adam says the second we’re outside.

“I am. Is that a problem?” I never considered how old he was. I mean, he’s clearly older than me. Well, he looks older.

“Not at all.”

“How old are you?” I ask him.

“Eighteen. I turn nineteen in September.”

“I’m a March baby.”

“I’ll have to remember that.”

He smiles at me, and I feel a fluttering in my chest.