Chapter 10
TEN
Tuck your heart back into your pocket, Cancer. Now is not the time to be emotionally slutty. While you’re at it, keep it in your pants, too.
“It’s up! It’s up! You look. I can’t do it.” I slide my laptop to Dakota when Dr. Rossen’s email comes in with the final cast list.
She scrolls slowly. So dang slowly. I pace and hold my hands up like I’m praying. I want this so badly.
“Well?” I ask when I can’t take it any longer.
Her face lifts from the screen, and she smiles. “You got the part of Molly. Is that the one you wanted?”
“I did?!” I jump in front of her so I can see.
“Molly, Mary, and Mara. Those are terrible names for sisters. They sound too much alike,” she complains, but I barely hear her.
“I can’t believe it. I got it!”
“Congrats!”
I hug her so hard she grunts and gasps for air. “This is going to be amazing!”
“I’m really proud of you,” she says when I free her.
And then it really registers. “Oh no.”
“What?”
“I might screw up the entire production.” Holy crap.
“Wow, that was a quick turn of feelings there, even for you.”
“I’ve never played a part like this. I’m not funny. Why did I think I could pull off a funny character?”
She grins. “Sometimes you’re funny. You’re making me smile right now.”
I groan loudly just as there’s a knock at the door.
“Sounds like your date is here. Want me to let him in and sharpen my knives while he waits?”
I laugh, hoping she’s joking, as I rush to let Adam in. His hair is still damp, and he steps in with a grin that’s so sexy I forget to speak.
“Hey,” he says and snaps me out of it.
“Hey. Hi.” I wave awkwardly.
Some of my uneasiness around him has diminished now that he knows about my massive crush on him, but I’m still nervous about all the disastrous ways this could go.
My hair and makeup are already done, so I change quickly while he waits on the couch. I send Dakota to her room with a promise that she won’t threaten my date.
He stands when I walk into the living room. I clutch my purse against my body. Waterproof mascara and tissues are packed, and I’m wearing my favorite panties. “I’m ready.”
“You look great,” he says. He looks me over like he can’t believe we’re really doing this. Like he’s seeing me for real. The way I always wanted him to.
With a hand at my lower back, Adam guides me to his Jeep and opens the door for me.
And then we’re off. I am on a date with Adam Scott. I pinch myself—which freaking hurts—but at least I know I’m not dreaming.
The thing about all the bad dates I’ve been on lately is I now know how to spot one early.
Little cues like silence on the ride to our destination.
It’s not foolproof. Sometimes things turn around by the time the appetizers arrive, but more often than not, my initial reaction to the date bleeds through to the end of the night.
And I also know what a good date looks like. Specifically, what Adam looks like on one. I’ve watched him date so many girls over the years.
So, when Adam and I get to the restaurant and neither of us has said more than two words, I start to panic.
All the giddiness about finally going out with my dream guy turns to nerves.
And then I start to babble. All through dinner.
I barely touch my food I’m so busy regaling him with every detail of my day.
It wasn’t that exciting to start with, and my retelling does not enhance it.
By the time we get back into his Jeep to go home, I’m ready to cry. I fall into silence that would have been helpful an hour ago when I recited my horoscope and his.
He starts the engine but doesn’t put the vehicle in gear. I blink back hot tears. I’m so mad at myself and angry at the situation, and just… pissed that I was so wrong. How can I like him so much and then find out we’re so bad together?
“Shit, are you okay?” Adam asks.
“Fine.” I turn to look out the window and brush away the wetness on my cheeks.
“You’re not fine. You’re crying.” He shifts and leans into my space, takes my chin into his hand and makes me face him.
“I’m sorry. That was awful. It was my fault.
Since the second you walked out in that tiny, red dress, my heart’s been in my throat.
My jeans are so tight I’m worried my dick might actually be losing circulation. ”
“What?” A surprised laugh escapes, and I can’t help but stare down at his crotch.
“Oh.” He’s hard. Really hard. “I thought you were counting the seconds until the date was over, and I couldn’t stop talking because I didn’t want this to be the worst date of all history.
Well, second-worst date. Nothing could be worse than me forcing you into a fake engagement in front of all your professors.
I’m doing it again,” I say. “I can’t stop.
Before, I couldn’t talk around you, and now, I’m blabbering on. Seriously, I can’t sto—”
His hand covers my mouth, and I squeak my surprise. He chuckles and removes his hand. “Sorry, that was a dick move. I didn’t mean to cut you off. It’s just… I really want to kiss you and you’re making it hard to find a second to dive in.”
I slam my lips together. He’s looking at me like he’s waiting for me to say something else. “Yeah, never speaking again,” I whisper.
Laughing, he leans forward. His breath is minty and soft as he parts his lips. His hand goes to my chin and then slides behind my neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps.
The radio’s on, but I can still hear the groan he lets out as I press my mouth to his.
His kiss is the magic touch that zaps some confidence into me, and I tangle my tongue with his.
My hands find his hair, and I thread my fingers through the thick locks and gently tug him closer.
He comes so easily you’d think I have super strength.
He’s basically in the seat with me, which is no small feat considering how big he is.
One arm circles my waist, and he brings us both to his side of the Jeep. All without breaking the kiss. Impressive.
“Ouch,” I yelp as my knee hits the gearshift.
I think he mumbles sorry, but that hand at my waist has shifted to palm my ass and—oh, sweet, sweet nirvana. Climbing into his lap, I sink down onto him and it’s only then we stop kissing. Our lips are only millimeters apart. His hot breaths mix with mine.
His gaze locks me in place. I don’t know how long we stare, neither moving, panting, wanting, reading each other before his dick twitches under me. My eyes flutter closed.
“Tell me to slow down,” he pleads as his mouth finds my neck.
I have a choice—slow down, risk that we’ve salvaged this date enough that he might ask me on another, or go for it. One night is better than none. My horoscope told me to keep it in my pants, but, come on, this has to be the exception. Adam is my every exception.
I roll my hips and claim his mouth. I’m all in. Whether that’s just for tonight or more.
After that, there’s no more pleading or asking permission. Adam’s hands are everywhere, guiding me over the thick bulge and then on my face, caressing and tender. When his fingers slide up to cup my boobs, I lean back and the horn blares.
His laughter tickles my throat. “I think we should probably take this back to your place.”
Instead, I unzip his jeans and push them down far enough to free his dick. His eyes close and his throat works as I wrap my hand around him and pump slowly.
“Condoms are in the glove box.” He grins sheepishly.
Sure enough, a new box waits for me. I’m a little shaky as I rip open a foil packet, but I do it with the excitement that’s built for two very long, very frustrating years.
I barely remember covering him with the latex or the short words we share after—him making sure I’m okay and that I’m sure I want to do this, and me asking if he’s a crazy person because duh, of course, I’m sure.
I don’t even bother taking off my panties.
With a little maneuvering, I shove them to one side.
Crotchless panties seem like a good idea for the first time ever.
When I slowly sink down onto him, it’s so much more than I dreamed. I’m breathless and fevered, and there’s a frantic energy that courses through me as I hold on to his neck and let him fill me so completely.
He controls the pace. Both hands are at my waist, lifting me and bringing me back down over and over. My dress inches up, and he pulls it even higher so that his palms dig into my hip bones. The expression on his face is bliss and lust, and I put it there.
A thousand times I wondered what this moment might be like, but I never imagined it like this.
I left too many things out. Things I know I’ll never forget—the nip of his teeth along my jaw, deep groans that vibrate through his body, and the possessive way he grips my skin.
And the feeling somewhere deep inside of me that comes alive in a way I can’t explain.
My head falls forward, and I bury it into his shoulder as I come. He’s only a few pumps behind me, slamming me down onto him and driving his hips up, then stilling as he finds his release.
I stay like that, collapsed onto him, until he brushes my hair away from my neck and kisses me chastely. “That was unexpected.”
“Says the guy who had condoms at the ready.”
A chuckle shakes his chest. “Come home with me.”
We both know going to his place or mine makes this more complicated. We’ll have to answer questions once our friends know we’ve hooked up. And they’ll know. There’s no way I’ll be able to hide this huge grin on my face and rumpled dress. One look at me and Ginny and Dakota would know everything.
“Okay,” I agree. All in.
I text Dakota to let her know I’m not coming home and then put my phone away to avoid any reply texts. At the guys’ apartment, we get lucky and don’t have to speak to anyone.
The TV is on and Maverick’s passed out on the couch in front of it. And it looks like by their closed doors, both Rhett and Heath are in their rooms.
Adam hasn’t dropped my hand since we got out of the Jeep.
He flips on the light of his bedroom and shuts the door.
Crowding my space, he stares down at me with a smile.
A real one, the kind that makes my stomach flip.
“We’ve done things all out of order. I can’t decide if I want to get you naked again immediately or ask you all the things I planned to ask over dinner. ”
“You had questions?”
He shrugs a shoulder. “I realized that I don’t know all that much about you. Not like you know me. You’ve paid attention.”
There’s no use in denying it. Little has happened in Adam Scott’s life these past two years that I haven’t noticed.
“Why didn’t you ask them at dinner and save me from myself?”
“Couldn’t get a word in.”
I hide behind my hands.
He laughs and slides my hands away from my face. “It was adorable.”
“I’m pretty sure you know all my embarrassing secrets. Including how I blather on when I’m nervous.”
“Well, I want to know more.”
“Ask me whatever you want.” I sit on the edge of the bed and tug him with our joined hands to follow.
“I’m having a hard time remembering what I wanted to ask. Having you here in my room, on my bed, it’s pretty distracting.”
“The best way to remember something is to focus on something else.”
His gaze darkens, and he leans forward to press his lips to mine. Our kisses are lazier this time, and we even manage to go several minutes without letting our hands explore. But soon, he’s stroking my legs, slowly moving higher until his fingertips disappear under the hem of my dress.
Listen, I know Adam’s dated a lot of girls and therefore slept with a lot of girls, but I’ve never been more aware of it than the second he finds the hidden zipper of my dress and is pulling the fabric over my head. The man has skill.
“Not fair,” I say. “You’re still so clothed, and I’m basically naked.”
“You can take off whatever you want,” he says, voice gruff.
I reach under his T-shirt, but I don’t get very far because his mouth covers one nipple, and I suck in a deep breath. He palms the other and then alternates. I’ve totally forgotten about getting him undressed until he lays me down and covers my body with his.
He helps me pull his shirt over his head and then goes back to worshiping my body as I let my touch roam over his back and chest exploring every muscle.
And there are a lot. Adam is tall and broad.
His body has been sculpted and defined by years of hockey.
I find a raised line and trace the scar on the inside of his bicep with a fingertip.
“What’s this from?” I ask.
“Went down on the ice with a defender my first year at Valley and took a skate blade to the arm.”
“What about your pads?”
“It got through or around. Not sure. Didn’t work.”
Well, that’s not reassuring. “Have any more?”
He rears back and points to another scar, this one lighter than the last and just below his belly button. “That one is from a stick.”
“Good thing it didn’t go any lower.” I rub the outline of his dick through his jeans.
“You’re telling me.” He falls back on top of me and that’s the last thing either of us says until he’s covering himself with a condom.
Adam laid out next to me naked and wanting me—well, there’s no horoscope that could have prepared me.