Among the Echoes(29)

I let out a loud sigh and ask, "Eavesdropping again?"

"Nope." He shakes his head but never looks at me. I let out a breath thankful that he didn’t hear— "But I did hear the conversation."

"Seriously! Why the hell does this crap only happen to me?" I shout in frustration.

He finally looks up, and the glowing smile he’s wearing is infectious. We both burst out laughing, because really, what the hell else can you do? My face is bright red with embarrassment, but neither one of us can stop long enough to acknowledge it.

I calm only to plead with him, "Please pretend you didn’t hear that."

"Okay. But it’s more fun to assume you are mentally undressing me every time you look at me." He begins to laugh again.

I throw my hands up to cover my face. Fire trucks have nothing on the color red my cheeks are sure to be right now.

"Oh my God. You really did hear. He’s an idiot. You can’t believe anything Dave says," I say from behind my hands.

"Okay, okay. I should really go. I need to get a move on ordering those mats. " He stands, and I immediately move my hands, not ready for him to leave yet. His eyes are warm, and the smirk on his gorgeous face warms a few of my own places too. "So tomorrow night. My place, okay?"

I nod, and he turns to walk away. Just before he gets to the door, he pauses.

"For the record, you can believe some things he says, because I was absolutely flirting."

My eyes go wide, but before I have a chance to squeak out a witty retort, he leaves.

"Told you," Dave says from the hallway, leaning up against the wall.

"I’m going to kill you!" I shout at him only to hear Adam laugh from outside the door. Fantastic!





I don’t know what the hell happened last night. When I accepted Dave’s invite to dinner, I expected to go over there, have dinner with a shy, frightened woman and her * cousin. Instead, I met the amazing Riley Peterson. Smartass extraordinaire. Sarcastic aficionado, and hands down the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. She’s not like the plastic women who usually throw themselves at me, but that only made her more appealing.

Who was that woman? Even from the first moment when I arrived, I could tell something was different with her. She stood taller, smiled more, and she wasn’t apologizing for everything. She didn’t look defeated. No. This version of Riley was full of life. She was, well…beautiful.

I can’t begin to tell you what a turn-on it was to see her stand up to Dave. It kills me to know there is a layer of pain hiding under this woman. I wanted to help her the minute I met her, but it appears I was all wrong about what kind of help she needed. Tonight, hopefully, I can give her that—just a little confidence in her own abilities to protect herself.

Self-defense isn’t a one-stop shop that will make her invincible, but I’m hoping I can light a fire inside her to maybe explore this further. It doesn’t hurt that I’ll have to touch her while we do it. While I think that may make me an *, I can live with that fact. I would never hurt her, but I wouldn’t mind making her come a time or twelve. Yeah, that absolutely makes me an *, but I’m still okay with it.

I’m an introvert—and that is being generous—but I can’t wait for her to get here tonight. It’s an unusual feeling at best. The absurdity in this level of excitement at seeing a woman I barely know isn’t lost on me. I may not be weak or insecure, but the struggle I see in Riley’s eyes is oddly familiar. It draws me to her, but it took seeing her as a woman and not a victim in need of rescue for me to realize it.

So today, I have pulled out all the stops. First, I called an out-of-town athletics supply store and ordered the mats. I ended up paying more for immediate delivery than the actual mats, but whatever. Then I ordered conservative takeout from my favorite restaurant. Or at least that is what I paid the delivery boy to say when he shows up. I actually hired him to put ridiculously expensive Italian food from the best restaurant in a fifty-mile radius into cheap takeout boxes and bring it over at eight.

Okay, so maybe that isn’t all the stops, but it’s more than Adam would ever be able to realistically do. I’m not going to push my luck. I still have no plans to tell her who I am. I don’t think she would rush out and tell the tabloids or anything. Hell, if Dave hasn’t done it by now, I’m sure Riley wouldn’t either. But I’m really f*cking enjoying being broke-ass Adam Andrews—boxer wannabe who is down on his luck, just trying to get his head straight.